11676	----	THE BALKAN WARS 1912-1913 JACOB GOULD SCHURMAN THIRD EDITION 1916 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION The interest in the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913 has exceeded the expectations of the publishers of this volume. The first edition, which was published five months ago, is already exhausted and a second is now called for. Meanwhile there has broken out and is now in progress a war which is generally regarded as the greatest of all time--a war already involving five of the six Great Powers and three of the smaller nations of Europe as well as Japan and Turkey and likely at any time to embroil other countries in Europe, Asia, and Africa, which are already embraced in the area of military operations. This War of Many Nations had its origin in Balkan situation. It began on July 28 with the declaration of the Dual Monarchy to the effect that from that moment Austria-Hungary was in a state of war with Servia. And the fundamental reason for this declaration as given in the note or ultimatum to Servia was the charge that the Servian authorities had encouraged the Pan-Serb agitation which seriously menaced the integrity of Austria-Hungary and had already caused the assassination at Serajevo of the Heir to the Throne. No one could have observed at close range the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913 without perceiving, always in the background and occasionally in the foreground, the colossal rival figures of Russia and Austria-Hungary. Attention was called to the phenomenon at various points in this volume and especially in the concluding pages. The issue of the Balkan struggles of 1912-1913 was undoubtedly favorable to Russia. By her constant diplomatic support she retained the friendship and earned the gratitude of Greece, Montenegro, and Servia; and through her championship, belated though it was, of the claims of Roumania to territorial compensation for benevolent neutrality during the war of the Allies against Turkey, she won the friendship of the predominant Balkan power which had hitherto been regarded as the immovable eastern outpost of the Triple Alliance. But while Russia was victorious she did not gain all that she had planned and hoped for. Her very triumph at Bukarest was a proof that she had lost her influence over Bulgaria. This Slav state after the war against Turkey came under the influence of Austria-Hungary, by whom she was undoubtedly incited to strife with Servia and her other partners in the late war against Turkey. Russia was unable to prevent the second Balkan war between the Allies. The Czar's summons to the Kings of Bulgaria and Servia on June 9, 1913, to submit, in the name of Pan-Slavism, their disputes to his decision failed to produce the desired effect, while this assumption of Russian hegemony in Balkan affairs greatly exacerbated Austro-Hungarian sentiment. That action of the Czar, however, was clear notification and proof to all the world that Russia regarded the Slav States in the Balkans as objects of her peculiar concern and protection. The first Balkan War--the war of the Allies against Turkey--ended in a way that surprised all the world. Everybody expected a victory for the Turks. That the Turks should one day be driven out of Europe was the universal assumption, but it was the equally fixed belief that the agents of their expulsion would be the Great Powers or some of the Great Powers. That the little independent States of the Balkans should themselves be equal to the task no one imagined,--no one with the possible exception of the government of Russia. And as Russia rejoiced over the victory of the Balkan States and the defeat of her secular Mohammedan neighbor, Austria-Hungary looked on not only with amazement but with disappointment and chagrin. For the contemporaneous diplomacy of the Austro-Hungarian government was based on the assumption that the Balkan States would be vanquished by Turkey. And its standing policy had been on the one hand to keep the Kingdom of Servia small and weak (for the Dual Monarchy was itself an important Serb state) and on the other hand to broaden her Adriatic possessions and also to make her way through Novi Bazar and Macedonia to Saloniki and the Aegean, when the time came to secure this concession from the Sultan without provoking a European war. It seemed in 1908 as though the favorable moment had arrived to make a first move, and the Austro-Hungarian government put forward a project for connecting the Bosnian and Macedonian railway systems. But the only result was to bring to an end the co-operation which had for some years been maintained between the Austrian and Russian governments in the enforcement upon the Porte of the adoption of reforms in Macedonia. And now the result of the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913 was the practical expulsion of Turkey from Europe and the territorial aggrandizement of Servia and the sister state of Montenegro through the annexation of those very Turkish domains which lay between the Austro-Hungarian frontier and the Aegean. At every point Austro-Hungarian policies had met with reverses. Only one success could possibly be attributed to the diplomacy of the Ballplatz. The exclusion of Servia from the Adriatic Sea and the establishment of the independent State of Albania was the achievement of Count Berchtold, the Austro-Hungarian Minister of Foreign Affairs. The new State has been a powder magazine from the beginning, and since the withdrawal of Prince William of Wied, the government, always powerless, has fallen into chaos. Intervention on the part of neighboring states is inevitable. And only last month the southern part of Albania--that is, Northern Epirus--was occupied by a Greek army for the purpose of ending the sanguinary anarchy which has hitherto prevailed. This action will be no surprise to the readers of this volume. The occupation, or rather re-occupation, is declared by the Greek Government to be provisional and it is apparently approved by all the Great Powers. Throughout the rest of Albania similar intervention will be necessary to establish order, and to protect the life and property of the inhabitants without distinction of race, tribe, or creed. Servia might perhaps have governed the country, had she not been compelled by the Great Powers, at the instigation of Austria-Hungary, to withdraw her forces. And her extrusion from the Adriatic threw her back toward the Aegean, with the result of shutting Bulgaria out of Central Macedonia, which was annexed by Greece and Servia presumably under arrangements satisfactory to the latter for an outlet to the sea at Saloniki. The war declared by Austria-Hungary against Servia may be regarded to some extent as an effort to nullify in the interests of the former the enormous advantages which accrued directly to Servia and indirectly to Russia from the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913. That Russia should have come to the support of Servia was as easy to foresee as any future political event whatever. And the action of Germany and France once war had broken out between their respective allies followed as a matter of course. If the Austro-German Alliance wins in the War of Many Nations it will doubtless control the eastern Adriatic and open up a way for itself to the Aegean. Indeed, in that event, German trade and German political influence would spread unchallenged across the continents from the North Sea to the Persian Gulf and the Indian Ocean. Turkey is a friend and ally; but even if Turkey were hostile she would have no strength to resist such victorious powers. And the Balkan States, with the defeat of Russia, would be compelled to recognize Germanic supremacy. If on the other hand the Allies come out victorious in the War of Many Nations, Servia and perhaps Roumania would be permitted to annex the provinces occupied by their brethren in the Dual Monarchy and Servian expansion to the Adriatic would be assured. The Balkan States would almost inevitably fall under the controlling influence of Russia, who would become mistress of Constantinople and gain an unrestricted outlet to the Mediterranean through the Bosphorus, the Sea of Marmora, and the Dardanelles. In spite of themselves the destiny of the peoples of the Balkans is once more set on the issue of war. It is not inconceivable, therefore, that some or all of those States may be drawn into the present colossal conflict. In 1912-1913 the first war showed Bulgaria, Greece, Montenegro, and Servia allied against Turkey; and in the second war Greece, Montenegro, and Servia were joined by Roumania in the war against Bulgaria, who was also independently attacked by Turkey. What may happen in 1914 or 1915 no one can predict. But if this terrible conflagration, which is already devastating Europe and convulsing all the continents and vexing all the oceans of the globe, spreads to the Balkans, one may hazard the guess that Greece, Montenegro, Servia, and Roumania will stand together on the side of the Allies and that Bulgaria if she is not carried away by marked Austro-German victories will remain neutral,--unless indeed the other Balkan States win her over, as they not inconceivably might do, if they rose to the heights of unwonted statesmanship by recognizing her claim to that part of Macedonia in which the Bulgarian element predominates but which was ceded to her rivals by the Treaty of Bukarest. But I have said enough to indicate that as in its origin so also in its results this awful cataclysm under which the civilized world is now reeling will be found to be vitally connected with the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913. And I conclude with the hope that the present volume, which devotes indeed but little space to military matters and none at all to atrocities and massacres, may prove helpful to readers who seek light on the underlying conditions, the causes, and the consequences of those historic struggles. The favor already accorded to the work and the rapid exhaustion of the first edition* seem to furnish some justification of this hope. JACOB GOULD SCHURMAN. November 26, 1914. * The present work is rather, a reprint than a new edition, few changes having been made except the correction of typographical errors. INTRODUCTION The changes made in the map of Europe by the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913 were not merely the occasion but a cause and probably the most potent, and certainly the most urgent, of all the causes that led to the World War which has been raging with such titanic fury since the summer of 1914. Had the Balkan Allies after their triumph over Turkey not fallen out amongst themselves, had there been no second Balkan War in 1913, had the Turkish provinces wrested from the Porte by the united arms of Bulgaria, Greece, Servia, and Montenegro been divided amongst the victors either by diplomacy or arbitration substantial justice would have been done to all, none of them would have been humiliated, and their moderation and concord would have commended their achievement to the Great Powers who might perhaps have secured the acquiescence of Austria-Hungary in the necessary enlargement of Servia and the expansion of Greece to Saloniki and beyond. But the outbreak of the second Balkan War nullified all these fair prospects. And Bulgaria, who brought it on, found herself encircled by enemies, including not only all her recent Allies against Turkey, but also Turkey herself, and even Roumania, who had remained a neutral spectator of the first Balkan War. Of course Bulgaria was defeated. And a terrible punishment was inflicted on her. She was stripped of a large part of the territory she had just conquered from Turkey, including her most glorious battle-fields; her original provinces were dismembered; her extension to the Aegean Sea was seriously obstructed, if not practically blocked; and, bitterest and most tragic of all, the redemption of the Bulgarians in Macedonia, which was the principal object and motive of her war against Turkey in 1912, was frustrated and rendered hopeless by Greek and Servian annexations of Macedonian territory extending from the Mesta to the Drin with the great cities of Saloniki, Kavala, and Monastir, which in the patriotic national consciousness had long loomed up as fixed points in the "manifest destiny" of Bulgaria. That the responsibility for precipitating the second Balkan War rests on Bulgaria is demonstrated in the latter portion of this volume. Yet the intransigent and bellicose policy of Bulgaria was from the point of view of her own interests so short-sighted, so perilous, so foolish and insane that it seemed, even at the time, to be directed by some external power and for some ulterior purpose. No proof, however, was then available. But hints of that suspicion were clearly conveyed even in the first edition of this volume, which, it may be recalled, antedates the outbreak of the great European War. Thus, on page 103, the question was put: "Must we assume that there is some ground for suspecting that Austria-Hungary was inciting Bulgaria to war?" And again, on page 108, with reference to General Savoff's order directing the attack on the Greek and Servian forces which initiated the second Balkan War, the inquiry was made: "Did General Savoff act on his own responsibility? Or is there any truth in the charge that King Ferdinand, after a long consultation with the Austro-Hungarian Minister, instructed the General to issue the order?" These questions may now be answered with positive assurance. What was only surmise when this volume was written is to-day indubitable certainty. The proof is furnished by the highest authorities both Italian and Russian. When the second Balkan War broke out San Giuliano was Prime Minister of Italy. And he has recently published the fact that at that time--the summer of 1913--the Austro-Hungarian government communicated to the Italian government its intention of making war on Servia and claimed under the terms of the Triple Alliance the co-operation of Italy and Germany. The Italian government repudiated the obligation imputed to it by Austria-Hungary and flatly declared that the Triple Alliance had nothing to do with a war of aggression. That Austria-Hungary did not proceed to declare war against Servia at that time--perhaps because she was discouraged by Germany as well as by Italy--makes it all the more intelligible, in view of her bellicose attitude, that she should have been urgent and insistent in pushing Bulgaria forward to smite their common rival. This conclusion is confirmed by the positive statement of the Russian government. The communication accompanying the declaration of war against Bulgaria, dated October 18, contains the following passage: "The victorious war of the united Balkan people against their ancient enemy, Turkey, assured to Bulgaria an honorable place in the Slavic family. But under Austro-German suggestion, contrary to the advice of the Russian Emperor and without the knowledge of the Bulgarian government, the Coburg Prince on June 29, 1913, moved Bulgarian armies against the Serbians." The "Coburg Prince" is of course Ferdinand, King of Bulgaria. That he acted under Austro-Hungarian influences in attacking his Balkan Allies on that fateful Sunday, June 29, 1913, is no longer susceptible of doubt. But whatever other inferences may be drawn from that conclusion it certainly makes the course of Bulgaria in launching the second Balkan War, though its moral character remains unchanged, look less hopeless and desperate than it otherwise appeared. Had she not Austria-Hungary behind her? And had not Austria-Hungary at that very time informed her Italian ally that she intended making war against Servia? But, whatever the explanation, the thunderbolt forged in 1913 was not launched till July 28, 1914, when Austria-Hungary formally declared war on Servia. The occasion was the assassination, a month earlier, of the heir to the throne, Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, the Duchess of Hohenburg, in the streets of Sarajevo. The occasion, however, was not the cause of the war. The cause was that which moved the Dual Monarchy to announce a war on Servia in the summer of 1913, namely, dissatisfaction with the territorial aggrandizement of Servia as a result of the first Balkan War and alarm at the Pan-Serb agitation and propaganda which followed the Servian victories over Turkey. These motives had subsequently been much intensified by the triumph of Servia over Bulgaria in the second Balkan War. The relations of Austria-Hungary to Servia had been acutely strained since October, 1908, when the former annexed the Turkish provinces of Bosnia and Herzegovina, which under the terms of the treaty of Berlin she had been administering since 1878. The inhabitants of Bosnia and Herzegovina are Serb, and Serb also are the inhabitants of Dalmatia on the west and Croatia on the north, which the Dual Monarchy had already brought under its sceptre. The new annexation therefore seemed a fatal and a final blow to the national aspirations of the Serb race and it was bitterly resented by those who had already been gathered together and "redeemed" in the Kingdom of Servia. A second disastrous consequence of the annexation was that it left Servia hopelessly land-locked. The Serb population of Dalmatia and Herzegovina looked out on the Adriatic along a considerable section of its eastern coast, but Servia's long-cherished hope of becoming a maritime state by the annexation of the Serb provinces of Bosnia and Herzegovina was now definitively at an end. She protested, she appealed, she threatened; but with Germany behind the Dual Monarchy and Russia still weak from the effects of the war with Japan, she was quickly compelled to submit to superior force. During the war of the Balkan Allies against Turkey Servia made one more effort to get to the Adriatic,--this time by way of Albania. She marched her forces over the mountains of that almost impassable country and reached the sea at Durazzo. But she was forced back by the European powers at the demand of Austria-Hungary, as some weeks later on the same compulsion she had to withdraw from the siege of Scutari. Then she turned toward the Aegean, and the second Balkan War gave her a new opportunity. The treaty of Bukarest and the convention with Greece assured her of an outlet to the sea at Saloniki. But this settlement proved scarcely less objectionable to Austria-Hungary than the earlier dream of Servian expansion to the Adriatic by the annexation of the Turkish provinces of Bosnia and Herzegovina. The fact is that, if we look at the matter dispassionately and in a purely objective spirit, we shall find that there really was a hopeless incompatibility between the ideals, aims, policies, and interests of the Servians and the Serb race and those of the Austrians and Hungarians. Any aggrandizement of the Kingdom of Servia, any enlargement of its territory, any extension to the sea and especially to the Adriatic, any heightening and intensifying of the national consciousness of its people involved some danger to the Dual Monarchy. For besides the Germans who control Austria, and the Hungarians who control Hungary, the Austro-Hungarian Empire embraces many millions of Slavs, and the South Slavs are of the same family and speak practically the same language as the inhabitants of the Kingdom of Servia. And Austria and Hungary can not get to their outlets on the Adriatic--Trieste and Fiume--without passing through territory inhabited by these South Slavs. If, therefore, Austria and Hungary were not to be left land-locked they must at all hazards prevent the absorption of their South Slav subjects by the Kingdom of Servia. Pan-Serbism at once menaced the integrity of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and jeopardized its position on the Adriatic. Hence the cardinal features in the Balkan policy of Austria-Hungary were a ruthless repression of national aspiration among its South Slav subjects--the inhabitants of Croatia, Dalmatia, Bosnia, and Herzegovina; a watchful and jealous opposition to any increase of the territory or resources of the Kingdom of Servia; and a stern and unalterable determination to prevent Servian expansion to the Adriatic. The new Servia which emerged from the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913 was an object of anxiety and even of alarm to the statesmen of Vienna and Buda-Pesth. The racial and national aspirations already astir among the South Slavs of the Dual Monarchy were quickened and intensified by the great victories won by their Servian brethren over both Turks and Bulgarians and by the spectacle of the territorial aggrandizement which accrued from those victories to the independent Kingdom of Servia. Might not this Greater Servia prove a magnet to draw the kindred Slavs of Bosnia, Herzegovina, Dalmatia, and Croatia away from their allegiance to an alien empire? The diplomacy of Vienna had indeed succeeded in excluding Servia from the Adriatic but it had neither prevented its territorial aggrandizement nor blocked its access to the Aegean. Access to the Aegean was not, however, as serious a matter as access to the Adriatic. Yet the expansion of Servia to the south over the Macedonian territory she had wrested from Turkey, as legalized in the Treaty of Bukarest, nullified the Austro-Hungarian dream of expansion through Novi Bazar and Macedonia to the Aegean and the development from Saloniki as a base of a great and profitable commerce with all the Near and Middle East. Here were the conditions of a national tragedy. They have developed into a great international war, the greatest and most terrible ever waged on this planet. It may be worth while in concluding to note the relations of the Balkan belligerents of 1912-1913 to the two groups of belligerents in the present world-conflict. The nemesis of the treaties of London and Bukarest and the fear of the Great Powers pursue the Balkan nations and determine their alignments. The declaration of war by Austria-Hungary against Servia, which started the present cataclysm, fixed the enemy status of Servia and also Montenegro. The good relations long subsisting between Emperor William and the Porte were a guarantee to the Central Powers of the support of Turkey, which quickly declared in their favor. The desire of avenging the injury done her by the treaty of Bukarest and the prospect of territorial aggrandizement at the expense of her sister Slav nation on the west drew Bulgaria (which was influenced also by the victories of the Germanic forces) into the same group in company with Turkey, her enemy in both the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913. Bulgaria's opportunity for revenge soon arrived. It was the Bulgarian army, in cooperation with the Austro-German forces, that overran Servia and Montenegro and drove the national armies beyond their own boundaries into foreign territory. If the fortunes of war turn and the Entente Powers get the upper hand in the Balkans, these expelled armies of Servia and Montenegro, who after rest and reorganization and re-equipping in Corfu have this summer been transported by France and England to Saloniki, may have the satisfaction of devastating the territory of the sister Slav state of Bulgaria, quite in the divisive and internecine spirit of all Balkan history. The fate and future of Bulgaria, Servia, and Montenegro now depend on the issue of the great European conflict. The same thing is true of Turkey, into which meanwhile Russian forces, traversing the Caucasus, have driven a dangerous wedge through Armenia towards Mesopotamia. Roumania has thus far maintained the policy of neutrality to which she adhered so successfully in the first Balkan war--a policy which in view of her geographical situation, with Bulgaria to the south, Russia to the north, and Austria-Hungary to the west, she cannot safely abandon till fortune has declared more decisively for one or the other group of belligerents. The only remaining party to the Balkan Wars is Greece, and the situation of Greece, though not tragic like that of Servia, must be exceedingly humiliating to the Greek nation and to the whole Hellenic race. When the war broke out, Mr. Venizelos was still prime minister of Greece. His policy was to go loyally to the assistance of Servia, as required by the treaty between the two countries; to defend New Greece against Bulgaria, to whom, however, he was ready to make some concessions on the basis of a quid pro quo; and to join and co-operate actively with the Entente Powers on the assurance of receiving territorial compensation in Asia Minor. King Constantine, on the other hand, seems to have held that the war of the Great Powers in the Balkans practically abrogated the treaty between Greece and Servia and that, in any event, Greek resistance to the Central Powers was useless. The positive programme of the King was to maintain neutrality between the two groups of belligerents and at the same time to keep the Greek army mobilized. Between these two policies the Greek nation wavered and hesitated; but the King, who enjoyed the complete confidence of the general staff, had his way and the cabinet of Mr. Venizelos was replaced by another in sympathy with the policy of the neutrality of Greece and the mobilization of the Greek army. It was, under all the circumstances of the case, an exceedingly difficult policy to carry out successfully. Each group of the belligerents wanted special favors; the nation was divided on the subject of neutrality; the expense of keeping the army mobilized was ruinous to the country; and the views and sympathies of the greatest statesman Modern Greece had ever had remained out of office, as they had been in office, diametrically opposed to those of the victorious warrior-King and doubtless also of the Queen, the sister of the German Emperor. This condition was one of unstable equilibrium which could not long continue. It was upset on May 26, 1916, by a Bulgarian invasion of Greek territory and the seizure of Fort Rupel, one of the keys to the Struma Valley and to eastern Macedonia. The cities of Seres and Drama with their large Greek Population, and even Kavala are now in danger, and the Greek people seem greatly stirred by the situation. Mr. Venizelos in a newspaper article bitterly asks: "Who could have imagined a Greek army witnessing the Bulgarian flag replacing that of Greece? Is it for this that our mobilization is maintained?" But, while Greece has been invaded by Bulgaria, with the support of Germany (who, however, has given a written promise that the Greek territory now occupied shall be restored), Greek sovereignty has since suffered another severe shock by the intervention of Great Britain, France, and Russia, who, under the Protocol of London, are the Protecting Powers of the Kingdom. These Powers demand of the Greek government that the army shall be completely and immediately demobilized, that the present cabinet shall be replaced by another which shall guarantee benevolent neutrality toward the Entente Powers, that the Chamber shall be immediately dissolved and new elections held, and that certain public functionaries obnoxious to the legations of the Allies shall be replaced. And statements from Athens dated June 21 announce that Greece, under the menace of an embargo maintained by the allied navies, has yielded to these demands. With Greece humiliated by the Protecting Powers and her territory occupied by Bulgaria, with Servia and Montenegro overrun and occupied by the German-Austrian-Bulgarian forces, with Roumania waiting to see which of the belligerent groups will be finally victorious, with Bulgaria now basking in the sunshine of the Central Powers but an object of hatred to all the Allied Powers and especially to Russia, one may be pardoned for refusing to make any guess whatever as to the way in which the resultant diagonal of the parallelogram of European forces will ultimately run through the Balkans. Fortunately also such prediction has no place in an account of the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913. To-day the Balkan nations are the pawns of the Great Powers who are directly responsible for the deplorable conditions that now exist among them. Yet in a very real sense their present tragic situation is the nemesis of the political sins of the Balkan nations themselves. These sins are those of all undeveloped political communities. Even the most highly civilized nations may temporarily fall under their sway, and then civilization reverts to barbarism, as the terrible condition of Europe to-day actually demonstrates. But the acute disease from which Europe suffers is more or less chronic in the Balkans, where elemental human nature has never been thoroughly disciplined and chastened in the school of peaceful political life and experience. Each for himself without regard to others or even without thought of a future day of reckoning seems to be the maxim of national conduct among the Balkan peoples. The spirit of strife and division possesses them; they are dominated by the uncontrolled instinct of national egoism and greed. The second Balkan War, alike in its origin, course, and conclusion, was a bald exhibition of the play of these primitive and hateful passions. The history of the world, which is also the high tribunal of the world, proves that no nation can with impunity ignore the rights of other nations or repudiate the ideal of a common good or defy the rule of righteousness by which political communities achieve it--justice, moderation, and the spirit of hopeful and unwearying conciliation. In their war against Turkey in 1912 the Balkan nations, for the first time in history, laid aside their mutual antagonisms and co-operated in a common cause. This union and concord marked at least the beginning of political wisdom. And it was vindicated, if ever any policy was vindicated, by the surprise and splendor of the results. My hope for the Balkan nations is that they may return to this path from which they were too easily diverted in 1913. They must learn, while asserting each its own interests and advancing each its own welfare, to pay scrupulous regard to the rights and just claims of others and to co-operate wisely for the common good in a spirit of mutual confidence and good will. This high policy, as expedient as it is sound, was to a considerable extent embodied in the leadership of Venizelos and Pashitch and Gueshoff. And where there is a leader with vision the people in the end will follow him. May the final settlement of the European War put no unnecessary obstacle in the way of the normal political development of all the Balkan Nations! J. G. S. President's Office Cornell University July 13, 1916 _Postscript_. I remarked in the foregoing Introduction, that Roumania would not abandon her neutrality till fortune had declared more decisively for one or the other group of belligerents. That was written seven weeks ago. And within the last few days Roumania has joined the Allies and declared war against Austria-Hungary. I also noted that the unstable equilibrium which had been maintained in Greece between the party of King Constantine and the party of Venizelos had already been upset to the disadvantage of the former. Roumania's adhesion to the cause of the Allies is bound to accelerate this movement. It would not be surprising if Greece were any day now to follow the example of Roumania. Had Greece in 1914 stood by Venizelos and joined the Allies the chances are that Roumania would at that time have adopted the same course. But the opposition of King Constantine delayed that consummation, directly in the case of Greece, and indirectly in the case of Roumania. Now that the latter has cast in her lot with the Allies and the former is likely at any tune to follow her example, I may be permitted to quote the forecast which I made in the Preface to the Second Edition of this volume under date of November 26, 1914: "If this terrible conflagration, which is already devastating Europe and convulsing all the continents and vexing all the oceans of the globe, spreads to the Balkans, one may hazard the guess that Greece, Montenegro, Servia, and Roumania will stand together on the side of the Allies and that Bulgaria if she is not carried away by marked Austro-German victories will remain neutral." J. G. S. September 1, 1916. [Map: map1.png Caption: The Balkan Peninsula before the Wars of 1912-1913.] I TURKEY AND THE BALKAN STATES The expulsion of the Turks from Europe was long ago written in the book of fate. There was nothing uncertain about it except the date and the agency of destiny. THE TURKISH EMPIRE IN EUROPE A little clan of oriental shepherds, the Turks had in two generations gained possession of the whole of the northwest corner of Asia Minor and established themselves on the eastern shore of the Bosphorus. The great city of Brusa, whose groves to-day enshrine the stately beauty of their mosques and sultans' tombs, capitulated to Orkhan, the son of the first Sultan, in 1326; and Nicaea, the cradle of the Greek church and temporary capital of the Greek Empire, surrendered in 1330. On the other side of the Bosphorus Orkhan could see the domes and palaces of Constantinople which, however, for another century was to remain the seat of the Byzantine Empire. The Turks crossed the Hellespont and, favored by an earthquake, marched in 1358 over the fallen walls and fortifications into the city of Gallipoli. In 1361 Adrianople succumbed to the attacks of Orkhan's son, Murad I, whose sway was soon acknowledged in Thrace and Macedonia, and who was destined to lead the victorious Ottoman armies as far north as the Danube. But though the provinces of the corrupt and effete Byzantine Empire were falling into the hands of the Turks, the Slavs were still unsubdued. Lazar the Serb threw down the gauntlet to Murad. On the memorable field of Kossovo, in 1389, the opposing forces met--Murad supported by his Asiatic and European vassals and allies, and Lazar with his formidable army of Serbs, Bosnians, Albanians, Poles, Magyars, and Vlachs. Few battles in the world have produced such a deep and lasting impression as this battle of Kossovo, in which the Christian nations after long and stubborn resistance were vanquished by the Moslems. The Servians still sing ballads which cast a halo of pathetic romance round their great disaster. And after more than five centuries the Montenegrins continue to wear black on their caps in mourning for that fatal day. In the next two centuries the Ottoman Empire moved on toward the zenith of its glory. Mohammed II conquered Constantinople in 1453. And in 1529 Suleyman the Magnificent was at the gates of Vienna. Suleyman's reign forms the climax of Turkish history. The Turks had become a central European power occupying Hungary and menacing Austria. Suleyman's dominions extended from Mecca to Buda-Pesth and from Bagdad to Algiers. He commanded the Mediterranean, the Euxine, and the Red Sea, and his navies threatened the coasts of India and Spain. But the conquests of the Turks were purely military. They did nothing for their subjects, whom they treated with contempt, and they wanted nothing from them but tribute and plunder. As the Turks were always numerically inferior to the aggregate number of the peoples under their sway, their one standing policy was to keep them divided--divide et impera. To fan racial and religious differences among their subjects was to perpetuate the rule of the masters. The whole task of government, as the Turks conceived it, was to collect tribute from the conquered and keep them in subjection by playing off their differences against one another. But a deterioration of Turkish rulers set in soon after the time of Suleyman with a corresponding decline in the character and efficiency of the army. And the growth of Russia and the reassertion of Hungary, Poland, and Austria were fatal to the maintenance of an alien and detested empire founded on military domination alone. By the end of the seventeenth century the Turks had been driven out of Austria, Hungary, Transylvania, and Podolia, and the northern boundaries of their Empire were fixed by the Carpathians, the Danube, and the Save. How marked and rapid was the further decline of the Ottoman Empire may be inferred from the fact that twice in the eighteenth century Austria and Russia discussed the project of dividing it between them. But the inevitable disintegration of the Turkish dominion was not to inure to the glorification of any of the Great Powers, though Russia certainly contributed to the weakening of the common enemy. The decline and diminution of the Ottoman Empire continued throughout the nineteenth century. What happened, however, was the revolt of subject provinces and the creation out of the territory of European Turkey of the independent states of Greece, Servia, Roumania, and Bulgaria. And it was Bulgarians, Greeks, and Servians, with the active assistance of the Montenegrins and the benevolent neutrality of the Roumanians, who, in the war of 1912-1913, drove the Turk out of Europe, leaving him nothing but the city of Constantinople and a territorial fringe bordered by the Chataldja line of fortifications. THE EARLIER SLAV EMPIRES There is historic justice in the circumstance that the Turkish Empire in Europe met its doom at the hands of the Balkan nations themselves. For these nationalities had been completely submerged and even their national consciousness annihilated under centuries of Moslem intolerance, misgovernment, oppression, and cruelty. None suffered worse than Bulgaria, which lay nearest to the capital of the Mohammedan conqueror. Yet Bulgaria had had a glorious, if checkered, history long before there existed any Ottoman Empire either in Europe or in Asia. From the day their sovereign Boris accepted Christianity in 864 the Bulgarians had made rapid and conspicuous progress in their ceaseless conflicts with the Byzantine Empire. The Bulgarian church was recognized as independent by the Greek patriarch at Constantinople; its primates subsequently received the title of patriarch, and their see was established at Preslav, and then successively westward at Sofia, Vodena, Presba, and finally Ochrida, which looks out on the mountains of Albania. Under Czar Simeon, the son of Boris, "Bulgaria," says Gibbon, "assumed a rank among the civilized powers of the earth." His dominions extended from the Black Sea to the Adriatic and comprised the greater part of Macedonia, Greece, Albania, Servia, and Dalmatia; leaving only to the Byzantine Empire--whose civilization he introduced and sedulously promoted among the Bulgarians--the cities of Constantinople, Saloniki, and Adrianople with the territory immediately surrounding them. But this first Bulgarian Empire was shortlived, though the western part remained independent under Samuel, who reigned, with Ochrida as his capital, from 976 to 1014. Four years later the Byzantine Emperor, Basil II, annihilated the power of Samuel, and for a hundred and fifty years the Bulgarian people remained subject to the rule of Constantinople. In 1186 under the leadership of the brothers Asen they regained their independence. And the reign of Czar Asen II (1218-1240) was the most prosperous period of all Bulgarian history. He restored the Empire of Simeon, his boast being that he had left to the Byzantines nothing but Constantinople and the cities round it, and he encouraged commerce, cultivated arts and letters, founded and endowed churches and monasteries, and embellished his capital, Trnovo, with beautiful and magnificent buildings. After Asen came a period of decline culminating in a humiliating defeat by the Servians in 1330. The quarrels of the Christian races of the Balkans facilitated the advance of the Moslem invader, who overwhelmed the Serbs and their allies on the memorable field of Kossovo in 1389, and four years later captured and burned the Bulgarian capital, Trnovo, Czar Shishman himself perishing obscurely in the common destruction. For five centuries Bulgaria remained under Moslem despotism, we ourselves being the witnesses of her emancipation in the last thirty-five years. The fate of the Serbs differed only in degree from that of the Bulgarians. Converted to Christianity in the middle of the ninth century, the major portion of the race remained till the twelfth century under either Bulgarian or Byzantine sovereignty. But Stephen Nemanyo bought under his rule Herzegovina, Montenegro and part of modern Servia and old Servia, and on his abdication in 1195 in favor of his son launched a royal dynasty which reigned over the Serb people for two centuries. Of that line the most distinguished member was Stephen Dushan, who reigned from 1331 to 1355. He wrested the whole of the Balkan Peninsula from the Byzantine Emperor, and took Belgrade, Bosnia, and Herzegovina from the King of Hungary. He encouraged literature, gave to his country a highly advanced code of laws, and protected the church whose head--the Archbishop of Ipek--he raised to the dignity of patriarch. On Easter Day 1346 he had himself crowned at Uskub as "Emperor of the Greeks and Serbs." A few years later he embarked on an enterprise by which, had he been successful, he might have changed the course of European history. It was nothing less than the capture of Constantinople and the union of Serbs, Bulgarians, and Greeks into an empire which might defend Christendom against the rising power of Islam. Dushan was within forty miles of his goal with an army of 80,000 men when he died suddenly in camp on the 20th of December, 1355. Thirty-four years later Dushan's countrymen were annihilated by the Turks at Kossovo! All the Slavonic peoples of the Balkan Peninsula save the brave mountaineers of Montenegro came under Moslem subjection. And under Moslem subjection they remained till the nineteenth century. TURKISH OPPRESSION OF SLAVS It is impossible to give any adequate description of the horrors of Turkish rule in these Christian countries of the Balkans. Their people, disqualified from holding even the smallest office, were absolutely helpless under the oppression of their foreign masters, who ground them down under an intolerable load of taxation and plunder. The culminating cruelty was the tribute of Christian children from ten to twelve years of age who were sent to Constantinople to recruit the corps of janissaries. It is not surprising that for the protection of wives and children and the safeguarding of interests the nobles of Bosnia and the Pomaks of Southeastern Bulgaria embraced the creed of their conquerors; the wonder is that the people as a whole remained true to their Christian faith even at the cost of daily martyrdom from generation to generation. Their fate too grew worse as the Turkish power declined after the unsuccessful siege of Vienna in 1683. For at first Ottoman troops ravaged Bulgaria as they marched through the land on their way to Austria; and later disbanded soldiers in defiance of Turkish authority plundered the country and committed nameless atrocities. Servia was to some extent protected by her remote location, but that very circumstance bred insubordination in the janissaries, who refused to obey the local Turkish governors and gave themselves up to looting, brigandage, and massacre. The national spirt of the subject races was completely crushed. The Servians and Bulgarians for three or four centuries lost all consciousness of a fatherland. The countrymen of Simeon and Dushan became mere hewers of wood and drawers of water for their foreign masters. Servia and Bulgaria simply disappeared. As late as 1834 Kinglake in travelling to Constantinople from Belgrade must have passed straight across Bulgaria. Yet in "Eothen," in which he describes his travels, he never even mentions that country or its people. It is easy to understand that this history of Turkish horrors should have burned itself into the heart and soul of the resurrected Servia and Bulgaria of our own day. But there is another circumstance connected with the ruthless destruction and long entombment of these nationalities which it is difficult for foreigners, even the most intelligent foreigners, to understand or at any rate to grasp in its full significance. Yet the sentiments to which that circumstance has given rise and which it still nourishes are as potent a factor in contemporary Balkan politics as the antipathy of the Christian nations to their former Moslem oppressors. GREEK ECCLESIASTICAL DOMINATION OF SLAV I refer to the special and exceptional position held by the Greeks in the Turkish dominions. Though the Moslems had possessed themselves of the Greek Empire from the Bosphorus to the Danube, Greek domination still survived as an intellectual, ecclesiastical, and commercial force. The nature and effects of that supremacy, and its results upon the fortunes of other Balkan nations, we must now proceed to consider. The Turkish government classifies its subjects not on the basis of nationality but on the basis of religion. A homogeneous religious group is designated a millet or nation. Thus the Moslems form the millet of Islam. And at the present time there are among others a Greek millet, a Catholic millet, and a Jewish millet. But from the first days of the Ottoman conquest until very recent times all the Christian population, irrespective of denominational differences, was assigned by the Sultans to the Greek millet, of which the patriarch of Constantinople was the head. The members of this millet were all called Greeks; the bishops and higher clergy were exclusively Greek; and the language of their churches and schools was Greek, which was also the language of literature, commerce, and polite society. But the jurisdiction of the patriarch was not restricted even to ecclesiastical and educational matters. It extended to a considerable part of civil law--notably to questions of marriage, divorce, and inheritance when they concerned Christians only. It is obvious that the possession by the Greek patriarch of Constantinople of this enormous power over the Christian subjects of the Turks enabled him to carry on a propaganda of hellenization. The disappearance for three centuries of the national consciousness in Servia and Bulgaria was not the sole work of the Moslem invader; a more fatal blight to the national languages and culture were the Greek bishops and clergy who conducted their churches and schools. And if Kinglake knew nothing of Bulgaria as late as 1834 it was because every educated person in that country called himself a Greek. For it cannot be too strongly emphasized that until comparatively recent times all Christians of whatever nation or sect were officially recognized by the Turks as members of the Greek millet and were therefore designated Greeks. The hostility of the Slavonic peoples in the Balkans, and especially of the Bulgarians, to the Greeks, grows out of the ecclesiastical and educational domination which the Greek clergy and bishops so long and so relentlessly exercised over them. Of course the Turkish Sultans are responsible for the arrangement. But there is no evidence that they had any other intention than to rid themselves of a disagreeable task. For the rest they regarded Greeks and Slavs with equal contempt. But the Greeks quickly recognized the racial advantage of their ecclesiastical hegemony. And it was not in human nature to give it up without a struggle. The patriarchate retained its exclusive jurisdiction over all orthodox populations till 1870, when the Sultan issued a firman establishing the Bulgarian exarchate. There were two other spheres in which Greek influence was paramount in the Turkish Empire. The Turk is a soldier and farmer; the Greek is pre-eminent as a trader, and his ability secured him a disproportionate share of the trade of the empire. Again, the Greeks of Constantinople and other large cities gradually won the confidence of the Turks and attained political importance. During the eighteenth century the highest officials in the empire were invariably Phanariots, as the Constantinople Greeks were termed from the quarter of the city in which they resided. In speaking of the Greeks I have not had in mind the inhabitants of the present kingdom of Greece. Their subjection by the Turks was as complete as that of the Serbs and Bulgaria though of course they were exempt from ecclesiastical domination at the hands of an alien clergy speaking a foreign language. The enmity of the Bulgarians may to-day be visited upon the subjects of King Constantine, but it was not their ancestors who imposed upon Bulgaria foreign schools and churches but the Greeks of Constantinople and Thrace, over whom the government of Athens has never had jurisdiction. SERVIAN INDEPENDENCE So much of the Balkan countries under Turkish rule. Their emancipation did not come till the nineteenth century. The first to throw off the yoke was Servia. Taking advantage of the disorganization and anarchy prevailing in the Ottoman Empire the Servian people rose in a body against their oppressors in January, 1804. Under the able leadership first of Kara-George and afterward of Milosh Obrenovich, Servian autonomy was definitely established in 1817. The complete independence of the country was recognized by the Treaty of Berlin in 1878. The boundaries of the new state, however, fell far short of Servian aspirations, excluding as they did large numbers of the Servian population. The first ruling prince of modern Servia was Milosh Obrenovich; and the subsequent rulers have belonged either to the Obrenovich dynasty or to its rival the dynasty of Kara-George. King Peter, who came to the throne in 1903, is a member of the latter family. GREEK INDEPENDENCE Scarcely had Servia won her freedom when the Greek war of independence broke out. Archbishop Germanos called the Christian population of the Morea under the standard of the cross in 1821. For three years the Greeks, with the assistance of European money and volunteers (of whom Lord Byron was the most illustrious), conducted a successful campaign against the Turkish forces; but after the Sultan had in 1824 summoned to his aid Mehemet Ali, Pasha of Egypt, with his powerful fleet and disciplined army, the laurels which the Greek patriots had won were recovered by the oppressor; and, with the recapture of Athens in May, 1827, the whole country once more lay under the dominion of the Turks. The Powers now recognized that nothing but intervention could save Greece for European civilization. The Egyptian fleet was annihilated at Navarino in October, 1828, by the fleets of England, France, and Russia. Greece was constituted an independent monarchy, though the Powers who recognized its independence traced the frontier of the emancipated country in a jealous and niggardly spirit. Prince Otto of Bavaria was designated the first King and reigned for thirty years. He was succeeded in 1863 by King George who lived to see the northern boundary of his kingdom advanced to Saloniki, where, like a faithful sentinel at his post, he fell, on March 18, 1913, by the hand of an assassin just as he had attained the glorious fruition of a reign of fifty years. BULGARIAN INDEPENDENCE There had been a literary revival preceding the dawn of independence in Greece. In Bulgaria, which was the last of the Balkan states to become independent, the national regeneration was also fostered by a literary and educational movement, of which the founding of the first Bulgarian school--that of Gabrovo--in 1835 was undoubtedly the most important event. In the next five years more than fifty Bulgarian schools were established and five Bulgarian printing-presses set up. The Bulgarians were beginning to re-discover their own nationality. Bulgarian schools and books produced a reaction against Greek culture and the Greek clergy who maintained it. Not much longer would Greek remain the language of the upper classes in Bulgarian cities; not much longer would ignorant peasants, who spoke only Bulgarian, call themselves Greek. The days of the spiritual domination of the Greek patriarchate were numbered. The ecclesiastical ascendency of the Greeks had crushed Bulgarian nationality more completely than even the civil power of the Turks. The abolition of the spiritual rule of foreigners and the restoration of the independent Bulgarian church became the leading object of the literary reformers, educators, and patriots. It was a long and arduous campaign--a campaign of education and awakening at home and of appeal and discussion in Constantinople. Finally the Sultan intervened and in 1870 issued a firman establishing the Bulgarian exarchate, conferring on it immediate jurisdiction over fifteen dioceses, and providing for the addition of other dioceses on a vote of two-thirds of their Christian population. The new Bulgarian exarch was immediately excommunicated by the Greek patriarch. But the first and most important official step had been taken in the development of Bulgarian nationality. The revolt against the Turks followed in 1876. It was suppressed by acts of cruelty and horror unparalleled even in the Balkans. Many thousands of men, women, and children were massacred and scores of villages destroyed. I remember vividly--for I was then in England--how Gladstone's denunciation of those atrocities aroused a wave of moral indignation and wrath which swept furiously from one end of Great Britain to the other, and even aroused the governments and peoples of the Continent of Europe. The Porte refusing to adopt satisfactory measures of reform, Russia declared war and her victorious army advanced to the very gates of Constantinople. The Treaty of San Stefano, which Russia then enforced upon Turkey, created a "Big Bulgaria" that extended from the Black Sea to the Albanian Mountains and from the Danube to the Aegean, leaving to Turkey, however, Adrianople, Saloniki, and the Chalcidician Peninsula. But this treaty was torn to pieces by the Powers, who feared that "Big Bulgaria" would become a mere Russian dependency, and they substituted for it the Treaty of Berlin. Under this memorable instrument, which dashed to the ground the racial and national aspirations of the Bulgarians which the Treaty of San Stefano had so completely satisfied, their country was restricted to a "tributary principality" lying between the Danube and the Balkans, Eastern Roumelia to the south being excluded from it and made an autonomous province of Turkey. This breach in the political life of the race was healed in 1885 by the union of Eastern Roumelia with Bulgaria; and the Ottoman sovereignty, which had become little more than a form, was completely ended in 1908 when the ruler of the enlarged principality of Bulgaria publicly proclaimed it an independent kingdom. In spite of a protest from the Porte the independence of Bulgaria was at once recognized by the Powers. If Bulgaria owed the freedom with which the Treaty of Berlin dowered her to the swords, and also to the pens, of foreigners, her complete independence was her own achievement. But it was not brought about till a generation after the Treaty of Berlin had recognized the independence of Servia, Montenegro, and Roumania and delegated to Austria-Hungary the administration of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Yet the progress made by Bulgaria first under Prince Alexander and especially since 1887 under Prince Ferdinand (who subsequently assumed the title of King and later of Czar) is one of the most astonishing phenomena in the history of Modern Europe. THE BALKAN COUNTRIES Thus in consequence of the events we have here so hastily sketched Turkey had lost since the nineteenth century opened a large portion of the Balkan Peninsula. Along the Danube and the Save at the north Bulgaria and Servia had become independent kingdoms and Bosnia and Herzegovina had at first practically and later formally been annexed to Austria-Hungary. At the extreme southern end of the Balkan Peninsula the Greeks had carved out an independent kingdom extending from Cape Matapan to the Vale of Tempe and the Gulf of Arta. All that remained of European Turkey was the territory lying between Greece and the Slav countries of Montenegro, Bosnia, Servia, and Bulgaria. The Porte has divided this domain into six provinces or vilayets, besides Constantinople and its environs. These vilayets are Scutari and Janina on the Adriatic; Kossovo and Monastir, adjoining them on the east; next Saloniki, embracing the centre of the area; and finally Adrianople, extending from the Mesta River to the Black Sea. In ordinary language the ancient classical names are generally used to designate these divisions. The vilayet of Adrianople roughly corresponds to Thrace, the Adriatic vilayets to Epirus, and the intervening territory to Macedonia. Parts of the domain in question are, however, also known under other names. The district immediately south of Servia is often called Old Servia; and the Adriatic coast lands between Montenegro and Greece are generally designated Albania on the north and Epirus on the south. The area of Turkey in Europe in 1912 was 169,300 square kilometers; of Bulgaria 96,300; of Greece 64,600; of Servia 48,300; and of Montenegro 9,000. The population of European Turkey at the same date was 6,130,000; of Bulgaria 4,329,000; of Greece 2,632,000; of Servia 2,912,000; and of Montenegro 250,000. To the north of the Balkan states, with the Danube on the south and the Black Sea on the east, lay Roumania having an area of 131,350 square kilometers and a population of 7,070,000. CAUSES OF THE FIRST BALKAN WAR What was the occasion of the war between Turkey and the Balkan states in 1912? The most general answer that can be given to that question is contained in the one word Macedonia. Geographically Macedonia lies between Greece, Servia, and Bulgaria. Ethnographically it is an extension of their races. And if, as Matthew Arnold declared, the primary impulse both of individuals and of nations is the tendency to expansion, Macedonia both in virtue of its location and of its population was foreordained to be a magnet to the emancipated Christian nations of the Balkans. Of course the expansion of Greeks and Slavs meant the expulsion of Turks. Hence the Macedonian question was the quintessence of the Near Eastern Question. But apart altogether from the expansionist ambitions and the racial sympathies of their kindred in Bulgaria, Servia, and Greece, the population of Macedonia had the same right to emancipation from Turkish domination and oppression as their brethren in these neighboring states. The Moslems had forfeited their sovereign rights in Europe by their unutterable incapacity to govern their Christian subjects. Had the Treaty of Berlin sanctioned, instead of undoing, the Treaty of San Stefano, the whole of Macedonia would have come under Bulgarian sovereignty; and although Servia and especially Greece would have protested against the Bulgarian absorption of their Macedonian brethren (whom they had always hoped to bring under their own jurisdiction when the Turk was expelled) the result would certainly have been better for all the Christian inhabitants of Macedonia as well as for the Mohammedans (who number 800,000 persons or nearly one third of the entire population of Macedonia). As it was these, people were all doomed to a continuation of Turkish misgovernment, oppression, and slaughter. The Treaty of Berlin indeed provided for reforms, but the Porte through diplomacy and delay frustrated all the efforts of Europe to have them put into effect. For fifteen years the people waited for the fulfilment of the European promise of an amelioration of their condition, enduring meanwhile the scandalous misgovernment of Abdul Hamid II. But after 1893 revolutionary societies became active. The Internal Organization was a local body whose programme was "Macedonia for the Macedonians." But both in Bulgaria and in Greece there were organized societies which sent insurgent bands into Macedonia to maintain and assert their respective national interests. This was one of the causes of the war between Turkey and Greece in 1897, and the reverses of the Greeks in that war inured to the advantage of the Bulgarian propaganda in Macedonia. Servian bands soon after began to appear on the scene. These hostile activities in Macedonia naturally produced reprisals at the hands of the Turkish authorities. In one district alone 100 villages were burned, over 8,000 houses destroyed, and 60,000 peasants left without homes at the beginning of winter. Meanwhile the Austrian and Russian governments intervened and drew up elaborate schemes of reform, but their plans could not be adequately enforced and the result was failure. The Austro-Russian entente came to an end in 1908, and in the same year England joined Russia in a project aiming at a better administration of justice and involving more effective European supervision. Scarcely had this programme been announced when the revolution under the Young Turk party broke out which promised to the world a regeneration of the Ottoman Empire. Hopeful of these constitutional reformers of Turkey, Europe withdrew from Macedonia and entrusted its destinies to its new master. Never was there a more bitter disappointment. If autocratic Sultans had punished the poor Macedonians with whips, the Young Turks flayed them with scorpions. Sympathy, indignation, and horror conspired with nationalistic aspirations and territorial interests to arouse the kindred populations of the surrounding states. And in October, 1912, war was declared against Turkey by Bulgaria, Servia, Montenegro, and Greece. THE BALKAN LEAGUE This brings us to the so-called Balkan Alliance about which much has been written and many errors ignorantly propagated. For months after the outbreak of the war against Turkey the development of this Alliance into a Confederation of the Balkan states, on the model of the American or the German constitution, was a theme of constant discussion in Europe and America. As a matter of fact there existed no juridical ground for this expectation, and the sentiments of the peoples of the four Christian nations, even while they fought together against the Moslem, were saturated with such an infusion of suspicion and hostility as to render nugatory any programme of Balkan confederation. An alliance had indeed been concluded between Greece and Bulgaria in May, 1912, but it was a defensive, not an offensive alliance. It provided that in case Turkey attacked either of these states, the other should come to its assistance with all its forces, and that whether the object of the attack were the territorial integrity of the nation or the rights guaranteed it by international law or special conventions. Without the knowledge of the Greek government, an offensive alliance against Turkey had in March, 1912, been concluded between Servia and Bulgaria which determined their respective military obligations in case of war and the partition between them, in the event of victory, of the conquered Turkish provinces in Europe. A similar offensive and defensive alliance between Greece and Turkey was under consideration, but before the plan was matured Bulgaria and Servia had decided to declare war against Turkey. This decision had been hastened by the Turkish massacres at Kochana and Berane, which aroused the deepest indignation, especially in Bulgaria. Servia and Bulgaria informed Greece that in three days they would mobilize their forces for the purpose of imposing reforms on Turkey, and, if within a specified time they did not receive a satisfactory reply, they would invade the Ottoman territory and declare war. They invited Greece on this short notice to co-operate with them by a simultaneous mobilization. It was a critical moment not only for the little kingdom of King George, but for that great cause of Hellenism which for thousands of years had animated, and which still animated, the souls of the Greek population in all Aegean lands. GREECE AND THE LEAGUE King George himself was a ruler of large experience, of great practical wisdom, and of fine diplomatic skill. He had shortly before selected as prime minister the former Cretan insurgent, Mr. Eleutherios Venizelos. It is significant that the new premier had also taken the War portfolio. He foresaw the impending conflict--as every wise statesman in Europe had foreseen it--and began to make preparations for it. For the reorganization of the army and navy he secured French and English experts, the former headed by General Eydoux, the latter by Admiral Tufnel. By 1914 it was estimated that the military and naval forces of the country would be thoroughly trained and equipped, and war was not expected before that date. But now in 1912 the hand of the Greek government was forced. And a decision one way or the other was inevitable. Mr. Venizelos had already proved himself an agitator, an orator, and a politician. He was now to reveal himself not only to Greece but to Europe as a wise statesman and an effective leader of his people. The first test came in his answer to the invitation to join Bulgaria and Servia within three days in a war against Turkey. Of all possibilities open to him Mr. Venizelos rejected the programme of continued isolation for Greece. There were those who glorified it as splendid and majestic: to him under the existing circumstances it seemed stupid in itself and certain to prove disastrous in its results. Greece alone would never have been able to wage a war against Turkey. And if Greece declined to participate in the inevitable conflict, which the action of the two Slav states had only hastened, then whether they won or Turkey won, Greece was bound to lose. It was improbable that the Ottoman power should come out of the contest victorious; but, if the unexpected happened, what would be the position, not only of the millions of Greeks in the Turkish Empire, but of the little kingdom of Greece itself on whose northern boundary the insolent Moslem oppressor, flushed with his triumph over Bulgaria, Servia, and Montenegro, would be immovably entrenched? On the other hand if these Christian states themselves should succeed, as seemed likely, in destroying the Ottoman Empire in Europe, the Kingdom of Greece, if she now remained a passive spectator of their struggles, would find in the end that Macedonia had come into the possession of the victorious Slavs, and the Great Idea of the Greeks--the idea of expansion into Hellenic lands eastward toward Constantinople--exploded as an empty bubble. It was Mr. Venizelos's conclusion that Greece could not avoid participating in the struggle. Neutrality would have entailed the complete bankruptcy of Hellenism in the Orient. There remained only the alternative of co-operation--co-operation with Turkey or co-operation with the Christian states of the Balkans. GREEK AND BULGARIAN ANTIPATHIES How near Greece was to an alliance with Turkey the world may never know. At the nothing of the sort was even suspected. It was not until Turkey had been overpowered by the forces of the four Christian states and the attitude of Bulgaria toward the other three on the question of the division of the conquered territories had become irreconcilable and menacing that Mr. Venizelos felt it proper to communicate to the Greek people the history of the negotiations by which the Greek government had bound their country to a partner now felt to be so unreasonable and greedy. Feeling in Greece was running high against Bulgaria. The attacks on Mr. Venizelos's government were numerous and bitter. He was getting little or no credit for the victory that had been won against Turkey, while his opponents denounced him for sacrificing the fruits of that victory to Bulgaria. The Greek nation especially resented the occupation by Bulgarian troops of the Aegean coast lands with their large Hellenic population which lay between the Struma and the Mesta including the cities of Seres and Drama and especially Kavala with its fine harbor and its hinterland famed for crops of choice tobacco. It was on the fourth of July, 1913, a few days after the outbreak of the war between Bulgaria and her late allies, that Mr. Venizelos made his defence in an eloquent and powerful speech at a special session of the Greek parliament. The accusation against him was not only that during the late war he had sacrificed Greek interests to Bulgaria but that he had committed a fatal blunder in joining her in the campaign against Turkey. His reply was that since Greece could not stand alone he had to seek allies in the Balkans, and that it was not his fault if the choice had fallen on Bulgaria. He had endeavored to maintain peace with Turkey. Listen to his own words: "I did not seek war against the Ottoman Empire. I would not have sought war at a later date if I could have obtained any adjustment of the Cretan question--that thorn in the side of Greece which can no longer be left as it is without rendering a normal political life absolutely impossible for us. I endeavored to adjust this question, to continue the policy of a close understanding with the neighboring empire, in the hope of obtaining in this way the introduction of reforms which would render existence tolerable to the millions of Greeks within the Ottoman Empire." THE CRETAN PROBLEM It was this Cretan question, even more than the Macedonian question, which in 1897 had driven Greece, single-handed and unprepared, into a war with Turkey in which she was destined to meet speedy and overwhelming defeat. It was this same "accursed Cretan question," as Mr. Venizelos called it, which now drew the country into a military alliance against her Ottoman neighbor who, until too late, refused to make any concession either to the just claims of the Cretans or to the conciliatory proposals of the Greek government. Lying midway between three continents, the island of Crete has played a large part both in ancient and modern history. The explorations and excavations of Sir Arthur Evans at Cnossus seem to prove that the Homeric civilization of Tiryns and Mycenae was derived from Crete, whose earliest remains carry us back three thousand years before the Christian era. And if Crete gave to ancient Greece her earliest civilization she has insisted on giving herself to modern Greece. It is a natural union; for the Cretans are Greeks, undiluted with Turk, Albanian, or Slav blood, though with some admixture of Italian. The one obstacle to this marriage of kindred souls has been Turkey. For Crete was taken from the Venetians by the Turks in 1669, after a twenty years' siege of Candia, the capital. A portion of the inhabitants embraced the creed of their conquerors, so that at the present time perhaps two-thirds of the population are Christian and one-third Moslem. The result has been to make Crete the worst governed province of the Ottoman Empire. In Turkey in Europe diversity of race has kept the Christians quarreling with one another; in Crete diversity of religion plunges the same race into internecine war as often as once in ten years. The island had been the scene of chronic insurrections all through the nineteenth century. Each ended as a rule with a promise of the Sultan to confer upon the Cretans some form of local self-government, with additional privileges, financial or other. But these promises were never fulfilled. Things went from bad to worse. The military intervention of Greece in 1897 led to war with Turkey in which she was disastrously defeated. The European Powers had meantime intervened and they decided that Crete should be endowed with autonomy under the sovereignty of the Sultan, and in 1898 they appointed Prince George of Greece as High Commissioner. Between the political parties of the island and the representatives of the Powers the Prince, who worked steadily for the welfare of Crete, had a difficult task, and in 1906 he withdrew, his successor being Mr. Zaimis, a former prime minister of Greece. The new commissioner was able to report to the protecting Powers in 1908 that a gendarmerie had been established, that tranquility was being maintained, and that the Moslem population enjoyed safety and security. Thereupon the Powers began to withdraw their forces from the island. And the project for annexation with Greece, which had been proclaimed by the Cretan insurgents under Mr. Venizelos in 1905 and which the insular assembly had hastened to endorse, was once more voted by the assembly, who went on to provide for the government of the island in the name of the King of Greece. I have not time to follow in detail the history of this programme of annexation. Suffice it to say that the Cretans ultimately went so far as to elect members to sit in the Greek Parliament at Athens, and that Turkey had given notice that their admission to the chamber would be regarded as a casus belli. I saw them on their arrival in Athens in October 1912, where they received a most enthusiastic welcome from the Greeks, while everybody stopped to admire their picturesque dress, their superb physique, and their dignified demeanor. If Mr. Venizelos excluded these delegates from the chamber he would defy the sentiments of the Greek people. If he admitted them, Turkey would proclaim war. MR. VENIZELOS'S SOLUTION The course actually pursued by Mr. Venizelos in this predicament he himself explained to the parliament in the speech delivered at the close of the war against Turkey from which I have already quoted. He declared to his astonished countrymen that in his desire to reach a close understanding with Turkey he had arrived at the point where he no longer demanded a union of Crete with Greece, "knowing it was too much for the Ottoman Empire." What he did ask for was the recognition of the right of the Cretan deputies to sit in the Greek chamber, while Crete itself should remain an autonomous state under the sovereignty of the Sultan. Nay, Mr. Venizelos was so anxious to prevent war with Turkey that he made another concession, for which, he frankly confessed, his political opponents if things had turned out differently would have impeached him for high treason. He actually proposed, in return for the recognition of the right of the Cretan deputies to sit in the Greek chamber, that Greece should pay on behalf of Crete an annual tribute to the Porte. Happily for Mr. Venizelos's government the Young Turk party who then governed the Ottoman Empire rejected all these proposals. Meanwhile their misgovernment and massacre of Christians in Macedonia were inflaming the red Slav nations and driving them into War against Turkey. When matters had reached a crisis, the reactionary and incompetent Young Turk party were forced out of power and a wise and prudent statesman, the venerable Kiamil Pasha, succeeded to the office of Grand Vizier. He was all for conciliation and compromise with the Greek government, whom he had often warned against an alliance with Bulgaria, and he had in readiness a solution of the Cretan question which he was certain would be satisfactory to both Greece and Turkey. But these concessions were now too late. Greece had decided to throw in her lot with Servia and Bulgaria. And a decree was issued for the mobilization of the Greek troops. THE WAR There is not time, nor have I the qualifications, to describe the military operations which followed. In Greece the Crown Prince was appointed commanding general, and the eve proved him one of the great captains of our day. The prime minister, who was also minister of war, furnished him with troops and munitions and supplies. The plains and hills about Athens were turned into mock battlefields for the training of raw recruits; and young Greeks from all parts of the world--tens of thousands of them from America--poured in to protect the fatherland and to fight the secular enemy of Europe. The Greek government had undertaken to raise an army of 125,000 men to co-operate with the Allies; it was twice as large a number as even the friends of Greece dreamed possible; yet before the war closed King Constantine had under his banner an army of 250,000 men admirably armed, clothed, and equipped;--each soldier indeed having munitions fifty per cent in excess of the figure fixed by the general staff. GREEK MILITARY AND NAVAL OPERATIONS The Greek army, which had been concentrated at Larissa, entered Macedonia by the Pass and the valley of the Xerias River. The Turks met the advancing force at Elassona but retired after a few hours' fighting. They took their stand at the pass of Sarandaporon, from which they were driven by a day's hard fighting on the part of the Greek army and the masterly tactics of the Crown Prince. On October 23 the Greeks were in possession of Serndje. Thence they pushed forward on both sides of the Aliakmon River toward Veria, which the Crown Prince entered with his staff on the morning of October 30. They had covered 150 miles from Larissa, with no facilities but wagons for feeding the army and supplying ammunition. But at Veria they struck the line of railway from Monastir to Saloniki. Not far away was Jenitsa, where the Turkish army numbering from 35,000 to 40,000 had concentrated to make a stand for the protection of Saloniki. The battle of Jenitsa was fiercely contested but the Greeks were victorious though they lost about 2000 men. This victory opened the way to Saloniki. The Turkish armies which defended it having been scattered by the Greek forces, that city surrendered to Crown Prince Constantine on the eighth of November. It was only three weeks since the Greek army had left Larissa and it had disposed of about 60,000 Turks on the way. On the outbreak of war Greece had declared a blockade of all Turkish ports. To the usual list of contraband articles there were added not only coal, concerning which the practice of belligerent nations had varied, but also machine oil, which so far as I know was then for the first time declared contraband of war. As Turkey imported both coal and lubricants, the purpose of this policy was of course to paralyze transportation in the Ottoman Empire. Incidentally I may say the prohibition of lubricating oil caused much inconvenience to American commerce; not, however, primarily on its own account, but because of its confusion, in the minds of Greek officials, with such harmless substances as cotton seed oil and oleo. The Greek navy not only maintained a very effective blockade but also took possession of all the Aegean Islands under Turkish rule, excepting Rhodes and the Dodecanese, which Italy held as a temporary pledge for the fulfilment by Turkey of some of the conditions of the treaty by which they had closed their recent war. It will be seen, therefore, that the navy was a most important agent in the campaign, and Greece was the only one of the Allies that had a navy. The Greek navy was sufficient not only to terrorize the Turkish navy, which it reduced to complete impotence, but also to paralyze Turkish trade and commerce with the outside world, to embarrass railway transportation within the Empire, to prevent the sending of reinforcements to Macedonia or the Aegean coast of Thrace, and to detach from Turkey those Aegean Islands over which she still exercised effective jurisdiction. SERB MILITARY OPERATIONS On land the other Allies had been not less active than Greece. Montenegro had fired the first shot of the war. And the brave soldiers of King Nicholas, the illustrious ruler of the one Balkan state which the Turks had never conquered, were dealing deadly blows to their secular enemy both in Novi Bazar and Albania. As the Greeks had pressed into southern Macedonia, so the Servian armies advanced through old Servia into northern and central Macedonia. In their great victory over the Turkish forces at Kumanovo they avenged the defeat of their ancestors at Kossovo five hundred years before. Still marching southward they again defeated the enemy in two great engagements, the one at Prilip and the other at Monastir. The latter city had been the object of the Greek advance to Florina, but when the prize fell to Servia, though the Greeks were appointed, it made no breach in the friendship of the two Allies. Already no doubt they were both gratified that the spheres of their military occupation were conterminous and that no Turkish territory remained for Bulgaria to occupy west of the Vardar River. BULGARIAN MILITARY OPERATIONS While Greece and Servia were scattering, capturing, or destroying the Turkish troops stationed in Macedonia, and closing in on that province from north and south like an irresistible vise, it fell to Bulgaria to meet the enemy's main army in the plains of Eastern Thrace. The distribution of the forces of the Allies was the natural result of their respective geographical location. Macedonia to the west of the Vardar and Bregalnitza Rivers was the only part of Turkey which adjoined Greece and Servia. Thrace, on the other hand, marched with the southern boundary of Bulgaria from the sources of the Mesta River to the Black Sea, and its eastern half was intersected diagonally by the main road from Sofia to Adrianople and Constantinople. Along this line the Bulgarians sent their forces against the common enemy as soon as war was declared. The swift story of their military exploits, the record of their brilliant victories, struck Europe with amazement. Here was a country which only thirty-five years earlier had been an unknown and despised province of Turkey in Europe now overwhelming the armies of the Ottoman Empire in the great victories of Kirk Kilisse, Lule Burgas, and Chorlu. In a few weeks the irresistible troops of King Ferdinand had reached the Chataldja line of fortifications. Only twenty-five miles beyond lay Constantinople where they hoped to celebrate their final triumph. THE COLLAPSE OF TURKEY The Great Powers of Europe had other views. Even if the Bulgarian delay at Chataldja--a delay probably due to exhaustion--had not given the Turks time to strengthen their defences and reorganize their forces, it is practically certain that the Bulgarian army would not have been permitted to enter Constantinople. But with the exception of the capital and its fortified fringe, all Turkey in Europe now lay at the mercy of the Allies. The entire territory was either already occupied by their troops or could be occupied at leisure. Only at three isolated points was the Ottoman power unsubdued. The city of Adrianople, though closely besieged by the Bulgarians, still held out, and the great fortresses of Scutari in Northern Albania and Janina in Epirus remained in the hands of their Turkish garrisons. The power of Turkey had collapsed in a few weeks. Whether the ruin was due to inefficiency and corruption in government or the injection by the Young Turk party of politics into the army or exhaustion resulting from the recent war with Italy or to other causes more obscure, we need not pause to inquire. The disaster itself, however, had spread far enough in the opinion of Europe, and a Peace Conference was summoned in December. Delegates from the belligerent states and ambassadors from the Great Powers came together in London. But their labors in the cause of peace proved unavailing. Turkey was unwilling to surrender Adrianople and Bulgaria insisted on it as a sine qua non. The Peace Conference broke up and hostilities were resumed. The siege of Adrianople was pressed by the Bulgarians with the aid of 60,000 Servian troops. It was taken by storm on March 26. Already, on March 6, Janina had yielded to the well directed attacks of King Constantine. And the fighting ended with the spectacular surrender on April 23 of Scutari to King Nicholas, who for a day at least defied the united will of Europe. Turkey was finally compelled to accept terms of peace. In January, while the London Peace Conference was still in session, Kiamil Pasha, who had endeavored to prepare the nation for the territorial sacrifice he had all along recognized as inevitable, was driven from power and his war minister, Nazim Pasha, murdered through an uprising of the Young Turk party executed by Enver Bey, who himself demanded the resignation of Kiamil and carried it to the Sultan and secured its acceptance. The insurgents set up Mahmud Shevket Pasha as Grand Vizier and made the retention of Adrianople their cardinal policy. But the same inexorable fate overtook the new government in April as faced Kiamil in January. The Powers were insistent on peace, and the successes of the Allies left no alternative and no excuse for delay. The Young Turk party who had come to power on the Adrianople issue were accordingly compelled to ratify the cession to the allies of the city with all its mosques and tombs and historic souvenirs. The Treaty of London, which proved to be short-lived, was signed on May 30. THE TERMS OF PEACE The treaty of peace provided that beyond a line drawn from Enos near the mouth of the Maritza River on the Aegean Sea to Midia on the coast of the Black Sea all Turkey should be ceded to the Allies except Albania, whose boundaries were to be fixed by the Great Powers. It was also stipulated that the Great Powers should determine the destiny of the Aegean Islands belonging to Turkey which Greece now claimed by right of military occupation and the vote of their inhabitants (nearly all of whom were Greek). A more direct concession to Greece was the withdrawal of Turkish sovereignty over Crete. The treaty also contained financial and other provisions, but they do not concern us here. The essential point is that, with the exception of Constantinople and a narrow hinterland for its protection, the Moslems after more than five centuries of possession had been driven out of Europe. This great and memorable consummation was the achievement of the united nations of the Balkans. It was not a happy augury for the immediate future to recall the historic fact that the past successes of the Moslems had been due to dissensions and divisions among their Christian neighbors. [Map: map2.png Caption: Map showing the Turkish Territories occupied by the Armies of Bulgaria, Greece, Montenegro, and Servia at the close of the War against Turkey] II THE WAR BETWEEN THE ALLIES The Treaty of London officially eliminated Turkey from the further settlement of the Balkan question. Thanks to the good will of the Great Powers toward herself or to their rising jealousy of Bulgaria she was not stripped of her entire European possessions west of the Chataldja lines where the victorious Bulgarians had planted their standards. The Enos-Midia frontier not only guaranteed to her a considerable portion of territory which the Bulgarians had occupied but extended her coast line, from the point where the Chataldja lines strike the Sea of Marmora, out through the Dardanelles and along the Aegean littoral to the mouth of the Maritza River. To that extent the Great Powers may be said to have re-established the Turks once more in Europe from which they had been practically driven by the Balkan Allies and especially the Bulgarians. All the rest of her European possessions, however, Turkey was forced to surrender either in trust to the Great Powers or absolutely to the Balkan Allies. The great question now was how the Allies should divide among themselves the spoils of war. RIVAL AMBITIONS OF THE ALLIES This was a difficult matter to adjust. Before the war began, as we have already seen, a Treaty of Partition had been negotiated between Bulgaria and Servia, but conditions had changed materially in the interval and Servia now demanded a revision of the treaty and refused to withdraw her troops from Central Macedonia, which the treaty had marked for reversion to Bulgaria. In consequence the relations between the governments and peoples of Servia and Bulgaria were dangerously strained. The Bulgarians denounced the Servians as perfidious and faithless and the Servians responded by excoriating the colossal greed and intolerance of the Bulgarians. The immemorial mutual hatred of the two Slav nations was stirred to its lowest depths, and it boiled and sputtered like a witches' cauldron. In Eastern Macedonia Bulgarians and Greeks were each eagerly pushing their respective spheres of occupation without much regard to the rights or feeling of the other Ally. Though the Bulgarians had not forgiven the Greeks for anticipating them in the capture of Saloniki in the month of November, the rivalry between them in the following winter and spring had for its stage the territory between the Struma and the Mesta Rivers--and especially the quadrilateral marked by Kavala and Orphani on the coast and Seres and Drama on the line of railway from Saloniki to Adrianople. They had one advantage over the Bulgarians: their troops could be employed to secure extensions of territory for the Hellenic kingdom at a time when Bulgaria still needed the bulk of her forces to fight the Turks at Chataldja and Adrianople. Hence the Greeks occupied towns in the district from which Bulgarian troops had been recalled. Nor did they hesitate to dislodge scattered Bulgarian troops which their ally had left behind to establish a claim of occupation. Naturally disputes arose between the military commanders and these led to repeated armed encounters. On March 5 Greeks and Bulgarians fought at Nigrita as they subsequently fought at Pravishta, Leftera, Panghaion, and Anghista. This conduct of the Allies toward one another while the common enemy was still in the field boded ill for their future relations. "Our next war will be with Bulgaria," said the man on the street in Athens, and this bellicose sentiment was reciprocated alike by the Bulgarian people and the Bulgarian army. The secular mutual enmities and animosities of the Greeks and Bulgarians, which self-interest had suppressed long enough to enable the Balkan Allies to make European Turkey their own, burst forth with redoubled violence under the stimulus of the imperious demand which the occasion now made upon them all for an equitable distribution of the conquered territory. For ages the fatal vice of the Balkan nations has been the immoderate and intolerant assertion by each of its own claims coupled with contemptuous disregard of the rights of others. ALBANIA A CAUSE OF FRICTION There were also external causes which contributed to the deepening tragedy in the Balkans. Undoubtedly the most potent was the dislocation of the plans of the Allies by the creation of an independent Albania. This new kingdom was called into being by the voice of the European concert at the demand of Austria-Hungary supported by Italy. The controlling force in politics, though not the only force, is self-interest. Austria-Hungary had long sought an outlet through Macedonia to the Aegean by way of Saloniki. It was also the aim of Servia to reach the Adriatic. But the foreign policy of Austria-Hungary, which has millions of Serbs under its dominion, has steadily opposed the aggrandizement of Servia. And now that Servia and her allies had taken possession of Macedonia and blocked the path of Austria-Hungary to Saloniki, it was not merely revenge, it was self-interest pursuing a consistent foreign policy, which moved the Dual Monarchy to make the cardinal feature of its Balkan programme the exclusion of Servia from access to the Adriatic Sea. Before the first Balkan war began the Adriatic littoral was under the dominion of Austria-Hungary and Italy, for though Montenegro and European Turkey were their maritime neighbors neither of them had any naval strength. Naturally these two dominant powers desired that after the close of the Balkan war they should not be in a worse position in the Adriatic than heretofore. But if Servia were allowed to expand westward to the Adriatic, their supremacy might in the future be challenged. For Servia might enter into special relations with her great sister Slav state, Russia, or a confederation might be formed embracing all the Balkan states between the Black Sea and the Adriatic: and, in either event, Austria-Hungary and Italy would no longer enjoy the unchallenged supremacy on the Adriatic coasts which was theirs so long as Turkey held dominion over the maritime country lying between Greece and Montenegro. As a necessity of practical politics, therefore, there emerged the Austro-Italian policy of an independent Albania. But natural and essential as this policy was for Italy and Austria-Hungary, it was fatal to Servia's dream of expansion to the Adriatic; it set narrow limits to the northward extension of Greece into Epirus, and the southward extension of Montenegro below Scutari; it impelled these Allies to seek compensation in territory that Bulgaria had regarded as her peculiar preserve; and as a consequence it seriously menaced the existence of the Balkan Alliance torn as it already was by mutual jealousies, enmities, aggressions, and recriminations. RECOIL OF SERVIA TOWARD THE AEGEAN The first effect of the European fiat regarding an independent Albania was the recoil of Servia against Bulgaria. Confronted by the force majeure of the Great Powers which estopped her advance to the Adriatic, Servia turned her anxious regard toward the Gulf of Saloniki and the Aegean Sea. Already her victorious armies had occupied Macedonia from the Albanian frontier eastward beyond the Vardar River to Strumnitza, Istib, and Kochana, and southward below Monastir and Ghevgheli, where they touched the boundary of the Greek occupation of Southern Macedonia. An agreement with the Greeks, who held the city of Saloniki and its hinterland as well as the whole Chalcidician Peninsula, would ensure Servia an outlet to the sea. And the merchants of Saloniki--mostly the descendants of Jews expelled from Spain in the fifteenth century--were shrewd enough to recognize the advantage to their city of securing the commerce of Servia, especially as they were destined to lose, in consequence of hostile tariffs certain to be established by the conquerors, a considerable portion of the trade which had formerly flowed to them without let or hindrance from a large section of European Turkey. The government of Greece was equally favorably disposed to this programme; for, in the first place, it was to its interest to cultivate friendly relations with Servia, in view of possible embroilments with Bulgaria; and, in the second place, it had to countercheck the game of those who wanted either to make Saloniki a free city or to incorporate it in a Big Bulgaria, and who were using with some effect the argument that the annexation of the city to Greece meant the throttling of its trade and the annihilation of its prosperity. The interests of the city of Saloniki, the interests of Greece, and the interests of Servia all combined to demand the free flow of Servian trade by way of Saloniki. And if no other power obtained jurisdiction over any Macedonian territory through which that trade passed, it would be easy for the Greek and Servian governments to come to an understanding. TREATY RESTRICTIONS Just here, however, was the rub. The secret treaty of March, 1912, providing for the offensive and defensive alliance of Bulgaria and Servia against the Ottoman Empire regulated, in case of victory, the division of the conquered territory between the Allies. And the extreme limit, on the south and east, of Turkish territory assigned to Servia by this treaty was fixed by a line starting from Ochrida on the borders of Albania and running northeastward across the Vardar River a few miles above Veles and thence, following the same general direction, through Ovcepolje and Egri Palanka to Golema Vreh on the frontier of Bulgaria--a terminus some twenty miles southeast of the meeting point of Servia, Macedonia, and Bulgaria. During the war with Turkey the Servian armies had paid no attention to the Ochrida-Golema Vreh line. The great victory over the Turks at Kumanovo, by which the Slav defeat at Kossovo five hundred years earlier was avenged, was, it is true, won at a point north of the line in question. But the subsequent victories of Prilip and Monastir were gained to the south of it--far, indeed, into the heart of the Macedonian territory recognized by the treaty as Bulgarian. If you look at a map you will see that the boundary between Servia and Bulgaria, starting from the Danube, runs in a slightly undulating line due south. Now what the military forces of King Peter did during the war of the Balkan states with the Ottoman Empire was to occupy all European Turkey south of Servia between the prolongation of that boundary line and the new Kingdom of Albania till they met the Hellenic army advancing northward under Crown Prince Constantine, when the two governments agreed on a common boundary for New Servia and New Greece along a line starting from Lake Presba and running eastward between Monastir and Florina to the Vardar River a little to the south of Ghevgheli. THE APPLE OF DISCORD But this arrangement between Greece and Servia would leave no territory for Bulgaria in Central and Western Macedonia! Yet Servia had solemnly bound herself by treaty not to ask for any Turkish territory below the Ochrida-Golema Vreh line. There was no similar treaty with Greece, but Bulgaria regarded the northern frontier of New Greece as a matter for adjustment between the two governments. Servia, withdrawn behind the Ochrida-Golema Vreh line in accordance with the terms of the treaty, would at any rate have nothing to say about the matter. And, although the Bulgarian government never communicated, officially or unofficially, its own views to Greece or Servia, I believe we should not make much mistake in asserting that a line drawn from Ochrida to Saloniki (which Bulgaria in spite of the Greek occupation continued to claim) would roughly represent the limit of its voluntary concession. Now if you imagine a base line drawn from Saloniki to Golema Vreh, you have an equilateral triangle resting on Ochrida as apex. And this equilateral triangle represents approximately what Bulgaria claimed in the western half of Macedonia as her own. The war between the Allies was fought over the possession of this triangle. The larger portion of it had in the war against Turkey been occupied by the forces of Servia; and the nation, inflamed by the military spirit of the army, had made up its mind that, treaty or no treaty, it should not be evacuated. On the south, especially above Vodena, the Greeks had occupied a section of the fatal triangle. And the two governments had decided that they would not tolerate the driving of a Bulgarian wedge between New Servia and New Greece. Bulgaria, on the other hand, was inexorable in her demands on Servia for the fulfilment of the terms of the Treaty of Partition. At the same time she worried the Greek government about the future of Saloniki, and that at a time when the Greek people were criticizing Mr. Venizelos for having allowed the Bulgarians to occupy regions in Macedonia and Thrace inhabited by Greeks, notably Seres, Drama, and Kavala, and the adjacent country between the Struma and the Mesta. These were additional causes of dissension between the Allies. But the primary disruptive force was the attraction, the incompatible attraction, exerted on them all by that central Macedonian triangle whose apex rested on the ruins of Czar Samuel's palace at Ochrida and whose base extended from Saloniki to Golema Vreh. THE CLAIM OF BULGARIA From that base line to the Black Sea nearly all European Turkey (with the exception of the Chalcidician Peninsula, including Saloniki and its hinterland) had been occupied by the military forces of Bulgaria. Why then was Bulgaria so insistent on getting beyond that base line, crossing the Vardar, and possessing herself of Central Macedonia up to Ochrida and the eastern frontier of Albania? The answer, in brief, is that it has been the undeviating policy of Bulgaria, ever since her own emancipation by Russia in 1877, to free the Bulgarians still under the Ottoman yoke and unite them in a common fatherland. The Great Bulgaria which was created by Russia in the treaty she forced on Turkey--the Treaty of San Stefano--was constructed under the influence of the idea of a union of the Bulgarian race in a single state under a common government. This treaty was afterward torn to pieces by the Congress of Berlin, which set up for the Bulgarians a very diminutive principality. But the Bulgarians, from the palace down to the meanest hut, have always been animated by that racial and national idea. The annexation of Eastern Roumelia in 1885 was a great step in the direction of its realization. And it was to carry that programme to completion that Bulgaria made war against Turkey in 1912. Her primary object was the liberation of the Bulgarians in Macedonia and their incorporation in a Great Bulgaria. And the Treaty of Partition with Servia seemed, in the event of victory over Turkey, to afford a guarantee of the accomplishment of her long-cherished purpose. It was a strange irony of fate that while as a result of the geographical situation of the belligerents Bulgaria, at the close of the war with Turkey, found herself in actual occupation of all European Turkey from the Black Sea up to the River Struma and beyond,--that is, all Thrace to Chataldja as well as Eastern Macedonia--her allies were in possession of the bulk of Macedonia, including the entire triangle she had planned to inject between the frontiers of New Servia and New Greece! The Bulgarians claimed this triangle on ethnological grounds. Its inhabitants, they asseverated, were their brethren, as genuinely Bulgarian as the subjects of King Ferdinand. RACIAL PROPAGANDA IN MACEDONIA Of all perplexing subjects in the world few can be more baffling than the distribution of races in Macedonia. The Turks classify the population, not by language or by physical characteristics, but by religion. A Greek is a member of the Orthodox Church who recognizes the patriarch of Constantinople; a Bulgarian, on the other hand, is one of the same religious faith who recognizes the exarch; and since the Servians in Turkey have no independent church but recognize the patriarchate they are often, as opposed to Bulgarians, called Greeks. Race, being thus merged in religion--in something that rests on the human will and not on physical characteristics fixed by nature--can in that part of the world be changed as easily as religion. A Macedonian may be a Greek to-day, a Bulgarian to-morrow, and a Servian next day. We have all heard of the captain in the comic opera who "in spite of all temptations to belong to other nations" remained an Englishman. There would have been nothing comic in this assertion had the redoubtable captain lived in Macedonia. In that land a race is a political party composed of members with common customs and religion who stand for a "national idea" which they strenuously endeavor to force on others. Macedonia is the land of such racial propaganda. As the Turkish government forbids public meetings for political purposes, the propaganda takes an ecclesiastical and linguistic form. Each "race" seeks to convert the people to its faith by the agency of schools and churches, which teach and use its own language. Up to the middle of the nineteenth century the Greeks, owing to their privileged ecclesiastical position in the Ottoman Empire, had exclusive spiritual and educational jurisdiction over the members of the Orthodox Church in Macedonia. The opposition of the Bulgarians led, as we have already seen, to the establishment in 1870 of the exarchate, that is, of an independent Bulgarian Orthodox Church with the exarch at its head. The Bulgarian propaganda in Macedonia demanded the appointment of bishops to conduct churches and schools under the authority of the exarchate. In 1891 the Porte conceded Bulgarian bishops to Ochrida and Uskub, in 1894 to Veles and Nevrokop, and in 1898 to Monastir, Strumnitza, and Dibra. As has been well said, the church of the exarchate was really occupied in creating Bulgarians: it offered to the Slavonic population of Macedonia services and schools conducted in a language which they understood and showed a genuine interest in their education. By 1900 Macedonia had 785 Bulgarian schools, 39,892 pupils, and 1,250 teachers. The Servian propaganda in Macedonia was at a disadvantage in comparison with the Bulgarian because it had not a separate ecclesiastical organization. As we have already seen, the orthodox Serbs owe allegiance to the Greek patriarch in Constantinople. And at first they did not push their propaganda as zealously or as successfully as the Bulgarians. In fact the national aspirations of the people of Servia had been in the direction of Bosnia and Herzegovina; but after these provinces were assigned to Austria by the Treaty of Berlin, a marked change of attitude occurred in the Servian government and nation. They now claimed as Servian the Slavonic population of Macedonia which hitherto Bulgaria had cultivated as her own. The course of politics in Bulgaria, notably her embroilment with Russia, inured to the advantage of the Servian propaganda in Macedonia, which after 1890 made great headway. The Servian government made liberal contributions for Macedonian schools. And before the nineteenth century closed the Servian propaganda could claim 178 schools in the vilayets of Saloniki and Monastir and in Uskub with 321 teachers and 7,200 pupils. These Slav propagandists made serious encroachments upon the Greek cause, which, only a generation earlier, had possessed a practical monopoly in Macedonia. Greek efforts too were for a time almost paralyzed in consequence of the disastrous issue of the Greco-Turkish war in 1897. Nevertheless in 1901 the Greeks claimed 927 schools in the vilayets of Saloniki and Monastir with 1,397 teachers and 57,607 pupils. RACIAL FACTS AND FALLACIES The more bishops, churches, and schools a nationality could show, the stronger its claim on the reversion of Macedonia when the Turk should be driven out of Europe! There was no doubt much juggling with statistics. And though schools and churches were provided by Greeks, Servians, and Bulgarians to satisfy the spiritual and intellectual needs of their kinsmen in Macedonia, there was always the ulterior (which was generally the dominant) object of staking out claims in the domain soon to drop from the paralyzed hand of the Turk. The bishops may have been good shepherds of their flocks, but the primary qualification for the office was, I imagine, the gift of aggressive political leadership. The Turkish government now favored one nationality and now another as the interests of the moment seemed to suggest. With an impish delight in playing off Slav against Greek and Servian against Bulgarian, its action on applications for bishoprics was generally taken with a view to embarrassing the rival Christian nationalities. And it could when necessary keep the propagandists within severe limits. The Bulgarians grew bold after securing so many bishoprics in the nineties and the bishop at Uskub thought to open new schools and churches. But the Turkish governor--the Vali--summoned him and delivered this warning: "O Bulgarian, sit upon the eggs you have, and do not burst your belly by trying to lay more." How are we to determine the racial complexion of a country in which race is certified by religion, in which religion is measured by the number of bishops and churches and schools, in which bishops and churches and schools are created and maintained by a propaganda conducted by competing external powers, and in which the results of the propaganda are determined largely by money and men sent from Sofia, Athens, and Belgrade, subject always to the caprice and manipulation of the Sultan's government at Constantinople? In Southern Macedonia from the Thessalian frontier as far north as the parallel of Saloniki, the population is almost exclusively Greek, as is also the whole of the Chalcidician Peninsula, while further east the coast region between the Struma and the Mesta is also predominantly Greek. Eastern Macedonia to the north of the line of Seres and Drama and south of the Kingdom of Bulgaria is generally Bulgarian. On the northwest from the city of Uskub up to the confines of Servia and Bosnia, Macedonia is mixed Serb, Bulgarian, and Albanian, with the Serb element preponderating as you travel northward and the Albanian westward. PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS AND EXPERIENCES The difficulty comes when we attempt to give the racial character of Central Macedonia, which is equally remote from Greece, Bulgaria, and Servia. I travelled through this district last summer. On June 29, when the war broke out between the Allies I found myself in Uskub. Through the courtesy of the Servian authorities I was permitted to ride on the first military train which left the city. Descending at Veles I drove across Central Macedonia by way of Prilip to Monastir, spending the first night, for lack of a better bed, in the carriage, which was guarded by Servian sentries. From Monastir I motored over execrable roads to Lake Presba and Lake Ochrida and thence beyond the city of Ochrida to Struga on the Black Drin, from which I looked out on the mountains of Albania. Coming from Athens where for many months I had listened to patriotic stories of the thorough permeation of Macedonia by Greek settlements my first surprise was my inability to discover a Greek majority in Central Macedonia. In most of the cities a fraction of the population indeed is Greek and as a rule the colony is prosperous. This is especially true in Monastir, which is a stronghold of Greek influence. But while half the population of Monastir is Mohammedan the so-called Bulgarians form the majority of the Christian population, though both Servians and Roumanians have conducted energetic propaganda. In Veles two-thirds of the population are Christians and nearly all of these are called Bulgarians. In Ochrida the lower town is Mohammedan and the upper Christian, and the Christian population is almost exclusively of the Bulgarian Church. It does not follow, however, that the people of Central Macedonia, even if Bulgarian churches are in the ascendant among them, are really connected by ties of blood and language with Bulgaria rather than with Servia. If history is invoked we shall have to admit that under Dushan this region was a part of the Serb empire as under Simeon and Asen it was part of the Bulgarian. If an appeal is made to anthropology the answer is still uncertain. For while the Mongolian features--broad flat faces, narrow eyes, and straight black hair--which characterize the subjects of King Ferdinand can be seen--I myself have seen them--as far west as Ochrida, they may also be found all over Northern Servia as far as Belgrade though the Servian physical type is entirely different. There is no fixed connection between the anthropological unit and the linguistic or political unit. Furthermore, while there are well-marked groups who call themselves Serbs or Bulgarians there is a larger population not so clearly differentiated by physique or language. Undoubtedly they are Slavs. But whether Serb or Bulgarian, or intermediate between the two, no one to-day can demonstrate. Central Macedonia has its own dialects, any one of which under happy literary auspices might have developed into a separate language. And the men who speak them to-day can more or less understand either Servian or Bulgarian. Hence as the anonymous and highly authoritative author of "Turkey in Europe," who calls himself Odysseus, declares: "The practical conclusion is that neither Greeks, Servians, nor Bulgarians have a right to claim Central Macedonia. The fact that they all do so shows how weak each claim must be." Yet it was Bulgaria's intransigent assertion of her claim to Central Macedonia which led to the war between the Allies. It will be instructive to consider the attitude of each of the governments concerned on the eve of the conflict. I hope I am in a position correctly to report it. Certainly I had unusual opportunities to learn it. For besides the official position I held in Athens during the entire course of both Balkan wars I visited the Balkan states in June and was accorded the privilege of discussing the then pending crisis with the prime ministers of Roumania, Servia, and Bulgaria. It would of course be improper to quote them; nay more, I feel myself under special obligation sacredly to respect the confidence they reposed in me. But the frank disclosures they made in these conversations gave me a point of view for the comprehension of the situation and the estimate of facts which I have found simply invaluable. And if Mr. Venizelos in Athens, or Mr. Maioresco in Bukarest, or Mr. Pashitch in Belgrade, or Dr. Daneff, who is no longer prime minister of Bulgaria, should ever chance to read what I am saying, I hope each will feel that I have fairly and impartially presented the attitude which their respective governments had taken at this critical moment on the vital issue then confronting them. THE ATTITUDE OF SERVIA I have already indicated the situation of Servia. Compelled by the Great Powers to withdraw her troops from Albania, after they had triumphantly made their way to the Adriatic, she was now requested by Bulgaria to evacuate Central Macedonia up to the Ochrida-Golema Vreh line in accordance with the terms of the treaty between the two countries which was ratified in March, 1912. The Servian government believed that for the loss of Albania, which the treaty assumed would be annexed to Servia, they were entitled to compensation in Macedonia. And if now, instead of compensation for the loss of an outlet on the Adriatic, they were to withdraw their forces from Central Macedonia and allow Bulgaria to establish herself between New Servia and New Greece, they would block their own way to Saloniki, which was the only prospect now left of a Servian outlet to the sea. Nor was this the whole story by any means. The army, which comprised all able-bodied Servians, was in possession of Central Macedonia; and the military leaders, with the usual professional bias in favor of imperialism, dictated their expansionist views to the government at Belgrade. If Bulgaria would not voluntarily grant compensation for the loss of Albania, the Servian people were ready to take it by force. They had also a direct claim against Bulgaria. They had sent 60,000 soldiers to the siege of Adrianople, which the Bulgarians had hitherto failed to capture. And the Servians were now asking, in bitter irony, whether they had gone to war solely for the benefit of Bulgaria; whether besides helping her to win all Thrace and Eastern Macedonia they were now to present her with Central Macedonia, and that at a time when the European Concert had stripped them of the expected prize of Albania with its much desired Adriatic littoral! This argument was graphically presented on a map of which I secured a copy in Belgrade. The legend on this map reads as follows: "Territories occupied by Servia 55,000 square miles. Servia cedes to her allies in the east and south 3,800 square miles. Servia cedes to Albania 15,200 square miles. Servia retains 36,000 square miles. Territories occupied by Bulgaria to Enos-Midia, 51,200 square miles. The Bulgarians demand from the Servians still 10,240 square miles. According to Bulgarian pretensions Bulgaria should get 61,520 square miles and Servia only 25,760!" PROPOSED REVISION OF TREATY AND ARBITRATION When the treaty between Servia and Bulgaria was negotiated, it seems to have been assumed that the theatre of a war with Turkey would be Macedonia and that Thrace--the country from the Mesta to the Black Sea--would remain intact to Turkey. And if the rest of Turkey in Europe up to the Adriatic were conquered by the two Allies, the Ochrida-Golema Vreh line would make a fairly equitable division between them of the spoils of war. But with Albania denied to Servia and Thrace occupied by Bulgaria, conditions had wholly changed. The Servian government declared that the changed conditions had abrogated the Treaty of Partition and that it was for the two governments now to adjust themselves to the logic of events! On May 28 Mr. Pashitch, the Servian prime minister, formally demanded a revision of the treaty. A personal interview with the Bulgarian prime minister, Mr. Gueshoff, followed on June 2 at Tsaribrod. And Mr. Gueshoff accepted Mr. Pashitch's suggestion (which originated with Mr. Venizelos, the Greek prime minister) of a conference of representatives of the four Allies at St. Petersburg. For it should be added that, in the Treaty of Partition, the Czar had been named as arbiter in case of any territorial dispute between the two parties. What followed in the next few days has never been clearly disclosed. But it was of transcendent importance. I have always thought that if Mr. Gueshoff, one of the authors of the Balkan Alliance, had been allowed like Mr. Venizelos and Mr. Pashitch, to finish his work, there would have been no war between the Allies. I did not enjoy the personal acquaintance of Mr. Gueshoff, but I regarded him as a wise statesman of moderate views, who was disposed to make reasonable concessions for the sake of peace. But a whole nation in arms, flushed with the sense of victory, is always dangerous to the authority of civil government. If Mr. Gueshoff was ready to arrange some accommodation with Mr. Pashitch, the military party in Bulgaria was all the more insistent in its demands on Servia for the evacuation of Central Macedonia. Even in Servia Mr. Pashitch had great difficulty in repressing the jingo ardor of the army, whose bellicose spirit was believed to find expression in the attitude of the Crown Prince. But the provocation in Bulgaria was greater, because, when all was said and done, Servia was actually violating an agreement with Bulgaria to which she had solemnly set her name. Possibly the military party gained the ear of King Ferdinand. Certainly it was reported that he was consulting with leaders of the opposition. Presumably they were all dissatisfied with the conciliatory attitude which Mr. Gueshoff had shown in the Tsaribrod conference. Whatever the explanation, Mr. Gueshoff resigned on June 9. DELAY AND OPPOSITION OF BULGARIA On that very day the Czar summoned the Kings of Bulgaria and Servia to submit their disputes to his decision. While this demand was based on a specific provision of the Servo-Bulgarian treaty, His Majesty also urged it on the ground of devotion to the Slav cause. This pro-Slav argument provoked much criticism in Austro-Hungarian circles which resented bitterly the assumption of Slav hegemony in Balkan affairs. However, on June 12 Bulgaria and Servia accepted Russian arbitration. But the terms were not agreed upon. While Mr. Venizelos and Mr. Pashitch impatiently awaited the summons to St. Petersburg they could get no definite information of the intentions of the Bulgarian government. And the rivalry of Austria-Hungary and Russia for predominance in the Balkans was never more intense than at this critical moment. On June 14 Dr. Daneff was appointed prime minister in succession to Mr. Gueshoff. He had represented Bulgaria in the London Peace Conference where his aggressive and uncompromising attitude had perturbed his fellow delegates from the other Balkan states and provoked some criticism in the European press. He was known as a Russophil. And he seems now to have got assurance from Russia that she would maintain the Bulgarian view of the treaty with Servia, although she had at one time favored the Servian demand for an extensive revision of it. Certainly Dr. Daneff voiced the views and sentiments of the Bulgarian army and nation. I was in Sofia the week before the outbreak of the war between the Allies. And the two points on which everybody insisted were, first, that Servia must be compelled to observe the Treaty of Partition, and, secondly, that Central Macedonia must be annexed to Bulgaria. For these things all Bulgarians were ready to fight. And flushed with their great victories over the main army of Turkey they believed it would be an easy task to overpower the forces of Servia and Greece. For the Greeks they entertained a sort of contempt; and as for the Servians, had they not already defeated them completely at Slivnitza in 1886? Men high in the military service of the nation assured me that the Bulgarian army would be in Belgrade in eight days after war was declared. The Greeks too would quickly be driven out of Saloniki. The idea of a conference to decide the territorial question in dispute between the Allies found no favor in any quarter. Now it is important that full justice should be done to Bulgaria. As against Servia, if Servia had stood alone, she might have appealed to the sanctity and inviolability of treaties. Circumstances had indeed changed since the treaty was negotiated. But was that a good reason, Bulgaria might have asked, why she should be excluded from Central Macedonia which the treaty guaranteed to her? Was that a good reason why she should not emancipate her Macedonian brethren for whose sake she had waged a bloody and costly war with Turkey? The Bulgarians saw nothing in the problem but their treaty with Servia and apparently cared for no territorial compensation without Central Macedonia. BULGARIA'S UNCOMPROMISING POLICY The Bulgarians were blind to all facts and considerations but the abstract terms of the treaty with Servia. It was a fact, however, that the war against Turkey had been fought by four Allies. It was a fact that the Ottoman government had ceded European Turkey (except Albania) to these four Allies. No two of the Allies could divide between themselves the common possession. A division made by the four Allies might contravene the terms of a treaty which existed between any two of the Allies prior to the outbreak of the war. In any event it was for the four Allies together to effect a distribution of the territory ceded to them by Turkey. For that purpose a conference was an essential organ. How otherwise could the four nations reach any agreement? Yet the Bulgarians--army, government, and nation--were obsessed by the fixed idea that Bulgaria enjoyed not only a primacy in this matter but a sort of sovereign monopoly by virtue of which it was her right and privilege to determine how much of the common spoils she should assign Servia (with whom she had an ante-bellum treaty), and, after Servia had been eliminated, how much she could spare to Greece (with whom no treaty of partition existed), and, when Greece had been disposed of, whether any crumbs could be flung to Montenegro, who had indeed very little to hope for from the Bulgarian government. And so Bulgaria opposed a conference of the four prime ministers though a conference was the natural, obvious, and necessary method of disposing of the common business pressing upon them. The attitude of Bulgaria left no alternative but war. Yet the Bulgarian government failed to reckon the cost of war. Was it not madness for Bulgaria to force war upon Greece, Servia, and Montenegro on the west at a time when Roumania was making demands for territorial compensation on the north and Turkey was sure to seize the occasion to win back territory which Bulgaria had just wrested from her on the south? Never was a government blinder to the significant facts of a critical situation. All circumstances conspired to prescribe peace as the manifest policy for Bulgaria, yet nearly every step taken by the government was provocative of war. The Bulgarian army had covered itself with glory in the victorious campaign against the Moslem. A large part of European Turkey was already in Bulgarian hands. To imperil that glory and those possessions by the risk of a new war, when the country was exhausted and new enemies lay in wait, was as foolish as it was criminal. That way madness lay. Yet that way the policy pursued by the Bulgarian government infallibly led. Must we assume that there is some ground for suspecting that Austria-Hungary was inciting Bulgaria to war? We must leave it to history to answer. If the result was a terrible disaster, that was only the old Greek Nemesis of the gods for the outraged principles of reason and moderation. THE CONCILIATORY SPIRIT OF GREECE Those principles, thanks to the conciliatory spirit of Mr. Venizelos, the prime minister, and the steady support of King Constantine, who was also commander-in-chief, were loyally followed in Greece. A few days after the declaration of war against the Ottoman Empire, into which Greece was precipitately hastened by the unexpected action of Servia and Bulgaria, the Greek foreign minister addressed a communication to the Allies on the subject of the division of conquered territory. He traced the line of Greek claims, as based on ethnological grounds, and added that, as he foresaw difficulties in the way of a direct adjustment, he thought the disputed points should be submitted to arbitration. But months followed months without bringing from Bulgaria any clear reply to this just and reasonable proposal of the Greek government. Nevertheless, Mr. Venizelos persisted in his attitude of conciliation toward Bulgaria. He made concessions, not only in Thrace but in Eastern Macedonia, for which he was bitterly criticized on the ground of sacrificing vital Greek interests to Bulgaria. He recognized, as his critics refused to do, that the Balkan question could not be settled on ethnological principles alone; one had to take account also of geographical necessities. He saw that the Greeks in Thrace must be handed over to Bulgaria. He demanded only the Macedonian territory which the Greek forces had actually occupied, including Saloniki with an adequate hinterland. As the attitude of Bulgaria became more uncompromising, as she pushed her army of occupation further westward, Mr. Venizelos was even ready to make the River Struma the eastern boundary of New Greece, and to abandon to Bulgaria the Aegean Httoral between the Struma and the Mesta Rivers including Greek cities like Kavala, Seres, and Drama. But these new concessions of Mr. Venizelos were in danger of alienating from him the support of the Greek nation without yielding anything in return from Bulgaria. The outbreak of the war between the Allies saved him from a difficult political position. Yet against that war Mr. Venizelos strove resolutely to the end. And when in despite of all his efforts war came, he was justified in saying, as he did say to the national parliament, that the Greeks had the right to present themselves before the civilized world with head erect because this new war which was bathing with blood the Balkan Peninsula had not been provoked by Greece or brought about by the demand of Greece to receive satisfaction for all her ethnological claims. And this position in which he had placed his country was, he proudly declared, a "moral capital" of the greatest value. BULGARIA BEGINS HOSTILITIES Bulgaria's belated acceptance of Russian arbitration was not destined to establish peace. Yet Dr. Daneff, the prime minister, who received me on June 27 and talked freely of the Balkan situation (perhaps the more freely because in this conversation it transpired that we had been fellow students together at the University of Heidelberg), decided on June 28 not to go to war with the Allies. Yet that very evening at eight o'clock, unknown to Dr. Daneff, an order in cipher and marked "very urgent" was issued by General Savoff to the commander of the fourth army directing him on the following evening to attack the Servians "most vigorously along the whole front." On the following afternoon, the 29th, General Savoff issued another order to the army commanders giving further instructions for attacks on the Servians and Greeks, including an attack on Saloniki, stating that these attacks were taking place "without any official declaration of war," and that they were undertaken in order to accustom the Bulgarian army to regard their former allies as enemies, to hasten the activities of the Russian government, to compel the former allies to be more conciliatory, and to secure new territories for Bulgaria! Who was responsible for this deplorable lack of harmony between the civil government and the military authorities has not yet been officially disclosed. Did General Savoff act on his own responsibility? Or is there any truth in the charge that King Ferdinand after a long consultation with the Austro-Hungarian Minister instructed the General to issue the order? Dr. Daneff knew nothing of it, and though he made every effort to stop the resulting hostilities, the dogs of war had been let loose and could not now be torn from one another's throats. There had been sporadic fighting in Macedonia between the Allies for some months past. Greece and Servia had concluded an anti-Bulgarian alliance on June 1. They also entered into a convention with Roumania by which that power agreed to intervene in case of war between the late Allies. And war having been declared, Roumania seized Silistria at midnight, July 10. Meanwhile the Servian and Greek forces were fighting the Bulgarians hard at Kilkis, Doiran, and other points between the Vardar and the Struma. And, as if Bulgaria had not enemies enough on her back already, the Turkish Army on July 12 left the Chataldja fortifications, crossed the Enos-Midia line, and in less than two weeks, with Enver Bey at its head, re-occupied Adrianople. Bulgaria was powerless to stop the further advance of the Turks, nor had she forces to send against the Roumanians who marched unopposed through the neighboring country till Sofia itself was within their power. No nation could stand up against such fearful odds. Dr. Daneff resigned on July 15. And the new ministry had to make the best terms it could. TERMS OF PEACE A Peace Conference met at Bukarest on July 28, and peace was signed on August 10. By this Treaty of Bukarest Servia secured not only all that part of Macedonia already under her occupation but gained also an eastward extension beyond the Doiran-Istib-Kochana line into purely Bulgarian territory. Greece fared still better under the treaty; for it gave her not only all the Macedonian lands she had already occupied but extended her domain on the Aegean littoral as far east as the mouth of the Mesta and away into the interior as far above Seres and Drama as they are from the sea,--thus establishing the northern frontier of New Greece from Lake Presba (near the eastern boundary of Albania) on a northward-ascending line past Ghevgheli and Doiran to Kainchal in Thrace on the other side of the Mesta River. This assignment of territory conquered from Turkey had the effect of shutting out Bulgaria from the Western Aegean; and the littoral left to Bulgaria between the Mesta River and the Turkish boundary has no harbor of any consequence but Dedeagach, which is much inferior to Kavala. The new Turkish boundary was arranged by negotiations between the Bulgarian and Ottoman governments. The terminus on the Black Sea was pushed north from Midia almost up to the southern boundary of Bulgaria. Enos remained the terminus on the Aegean. But the two termini were connected by a curved line which after following the Maritza River to a point between Sufli and Dimotika then swung in a semicircle well beyond Adrianople to Bulgaria and the Black Sea. Thus Bulgaria was compelled to cede back to the Asiatic enemy not only Adrianople but the battlefields of Kirk Kilisse, Lule Burgas, and Chorlu on which her brave soldiers had won such magnificent victories over the Moslems. THE ATTITUDE OF ROUMANIA The Treaty of Bukarest marked the predominance of Roumania in Balkan affairs. And of course Roumania had her own reward. She had long coveted the northeastern corner of Bulgaria, from Turtukai on the Danube to Baltchik on the Black Sea. And this territory, even some miles beyond that line, Bulgaria was now compelled to cede to her by the treaty. It is a fertile area with a population of some 300,000 souls, many of whom are Turks. The claim of Roumania to compensation for her neutrality during the first Balkan war was severely criticized by the independent press of western Europe. It was first put forward in the London Peace Conference, but rejected by Dr. Daneff, the Bulgarian delegate. But the Roumanian government persisted in pressing the claim, and the Powers finally decided to mediate, with the result that the city of Silistria and the immediately adjoining territory were assigned to Roumania. Neither state was satisfied with the award and the second Balkan war broke out before the transfer had been effected. This gave Roumania the opportunity to enforce her original claim, and, despite the advice of Austria-Hungary, she used it, as we have already seen. The Roumanian government justifies its position in this matter by two considerations. In the first place, as Roumania was larger and more populous than any of the Balkan states, the Roumanian nation could not sit still with folded arms while Bulgaria wrested this preeminence from her. And if Bulgaria had not precipitated a war among the Allies, if she had been content with annexing the portion of European Turkey which she held under military occupation, New Bulgaria would have contained a greater area and a larger population than Roumania. The Roumanians claim, accordingly, that the course they pursued was dictated by a legitimate and vital national interest. And, in the second place, as Greeks, Servians, and Bulgarians based their respective claims to Macedonian territory on the racial character of the inhabitants, Roumania asserted that the presence of a large Roumanian (or Vlach) population in that disputed region gave her an equally valid claim to a share in the common estate. In all Macedonia there may be some 100,000 Vlachs, though Roumanian officials put the number much higher. Many of them are highland shepherds; others engage in transportation with trains of horses or mules; those in the lowlands are good farmers. They are found especially in the mountains and valleys between Thessaly and Albania. They are generally favorable to the Greek cause. Most of them speak Greek as well as Roumanian; and they are all devoted members of the Greek Orthodox Church. Yet there has been a Roumanian propaganda in Macedonia since 1886, and the government at Bukarest has devoted large sums to the maintenance of Roumanian schools, of which the maximum number at any time has perhaps not exceeded forty. Now if every other nation--Greek, Servian, Bulgarian--which had hitherto maintained its propaganda of schools and churches in Macedonia, was to bring its now emancipated children under the benign sway of the home government and also was to annex the Macedonian lands which they occupied, why, Roumania asked, should she be excluded from participation in the arrangement? She did not, it is true, join the Allies in fighting the common Moslem oppressor. But she maintained a benevolent neutrality. And since Macedonia is not conterminous with Roumania, she was not seeking to annex any portion of it. Yet the rights those Roumanians in Macedonia gave her should be satisfied. And so arguing, the Roumanian government claimed as a quid pro quo the adjoining northeastern corner of Bulgaria, permitting Bulgaria to recoup herself by the uncontested annexation of Thrace and Eastern Macedonia. Such was the Roumanian reasoning. Certainly it bore hard on Bulgaria. But none of the belligerents showed any mercy on Bulgaria. War is a game of ruthless self-interest. It was Bulgaria who appealed to arms and she now had to pay the penalty. Her losses enriched all her neighbors. What Lord Bacon says of individuals is still more true of nations: the folly of one is the fortune of another, and none prospers so suddenly as by others' errors. THE WORK AND REWARD OF MONTENEGRO I have already sufficiently described the territorial gains of Roumania, Servia, and Greece. But I must not pass over Montenegro in silence. As the invincible warriors of King Nicholas opened the war against the Ottoman Empire, so they joined Servia and Greece in the struggle against Bulgaria. On Sunday, June 29, I saw encamped across the street from my hotel in Uskub 15,000 of these Montenegrin soldiers who had arrived only a day or two before by train from Mitrowitza, into which they had marched across Novi Bazar. Tall, lithe, daring, with countenances bespeaking clean lives, they looked as fine a body of men as one could find anywhere in the world, and their commanding figures and manly bearing were set off to great advantage by their striking and picturesque uniforms. The officers told me next day that in a few hours they would be fighting at Ghevgheli. Their splendid appearance seemed an augury of victory for the Serbs. Montenegro too received her reward by an extension of territory on the south to the frontier of Albania (as fixed by the Great Powers) and a still more liberal extension on the east in the sandjak of Novi Bazar. This patriarchal kingdom will probably remain unchanged so long as the present King lives, the much-beloved King Nicholas, a genuinely Homeric Father of his People. But forces of an economic, social, and political character are already at work tending to draw it into closer union with Servia, and the Balkan wars have given a great impetus to these forces. A united Serb state, with an Adriatic littoral which would include the harbors of Antivari and Dulcigno, may be the future which destiny has in store for the sister kingdoms of Servia and Montenegro. If so, it is likely to be a mutually voluntary union; and neither Austria-Hungary nor Italy, the warders of the Adriatic, would seem to have any good ground to object to such a purely domestic arrangement. THE PROBLEM OF ALBANIA The Albanians, though they rather opposed than assisted the Allies in the war against Turkey, were set off as an independent nation by the Great Powers at the instigation of Austria-Hungary with the support of Italy. The determination of the boundaries of the new state was the resultant of conflicting forces in operation in the European concert. On the north while Scutari was retained for Albania through the insistence of Austria-Hungary, Russian influence was strong enough to secure the Albanian centres of Ipek and Djakova and Prisrend, as well as Dibra on the east, for the allied Serb states. This was a sort of compensation to Servia for her loss of an Adriatic outlet at a time when the war between the Allies, which was destined so greatly to extend her territories, was not foreseen. But while in this way Albanians were excluded from the new state on the north and east, an incongruous compensation was afforded it on the south by an unjustifiable extension into northern Epirus, whose population is prevailingly Greek. The location of the boundary between Albania and New Greece was forced upon the Great Powers by the stand of Italy. During the first war the Greeks had occupied Epirus or southern Albania as far north as a line drawn from a point a little above Khimara on the coast due east toward Lake Presba, so that the cities of Tepeleni and Koritza were included in the Greek area. But Italy protested that the Greek occupation of territory on both sides of the Straits of Corfu would menace the control of the Adriatic and insisted that the boundary between Albania and Greece should start from a point on the coast opposite the southern part of the island of Corfu, Greece, accordingly, was compelled to evacuate most of the territory she had occupied above Janina. And Albania subsequently attempted to assert her jurisdiction over it. But the task of Albania is bound to be difficult. For though the Great Powers have provided it with a ruler--the German Prince William of Wied--there is no organized state. The Albanians are one of the oldest races in Europe, if not the oldest. But they have never created a state. And to-day they are hopelessly divided. It is a land of universal opposition--north against south, tribe against tribe, bey against bey. The majority of the population are Mohammedan but there are many Roman Catholics in the north and in the south the Greek Orthodox Church is predominant. The inhabitants of the north, who are called Ghegs, are divided into numerous tribes whose principal occupation is fighting with one another under a system of perpetual blood-feuds and inextinguishable vendettas. There are no tribes in the south, but the people, who are known as Tosks, live under territorial magnates called beys, who are practically the absolute rulers of their districts. The country as a whole is a strange farrago of survivals of primitive conditions. And it is not only without art and literature, but without manufactures or trade or even agriculture. It is little wonder that the Greeks of Epirus feel outraged by the destiny which the European Powers have imposed upon them--to be torn from their own civilized and Christian kindred and subjected to the sway of the barbarous Mohammedans who occupy Albania. Nor is it surprising that since Hellenic armies have evacuated northern Epirus in conformity with the decree of the Great Powers, the inhabitants of the district, all the way from Santi Quaranta to Koritza, are declaring their independence and fighting the Albanians who attempt to bring them under the yoke. The future of Albania is full of uncertainty. The State, however, was not created for the Albanians, who for the rest, are not in a condition to administer or maintain it. The state was established in the interests of Austria-Hungary and Italy. And those powers are likely to shape its future. THE AEGEAN ISLANDS AND CRETE For the sacrifice demanded of Greece in Epirus the Great Powers permitted her by way of compensation to retain all the Aegean Islands occupied by her during the war, except Imbros, Tenedos, and the Rabbit Islands at the mouth of the Dardanelles. These islands, however, Greece is never to fortify or convert into naval bases. This allotment of the Asiatic Islands (which includes all but Rhodes and the Dodecanese, temporarily held by Italy as a pledge of the evacuation of Libya by the Turkish officers and troops) has given great dissatisfaction in Turkey, where it is declared it would be better to have a war with Greece than cede certain islands especially Chios and Mitylene. The question of the disposition of the islands had, however, been committed by Turkey to the Great Powers in the Treaty of London. And Turkish unofficial condemnation of the action of the Powers now creates a dangerous situation. Mr. Venizelos declared not long ago, with the enthusiastic approval of the chamber, that the security of Greece lay alone in the possession of a strong navy. For Mr. Venizelos personally nothing in all these great events can have been more gratifying than the achievement of the union of Crete with Greece. This was consummated on December 14, when the Greek flag was hoisted on Canea Fort in the presence of King Constantine, the prime minister, and the consuls of the Great Powers, and saluted with 101 guns by the Greek fleet. KING CONSTANTINE Fortune in an extraordinary degree has favored the King of the Hellenes--Fortune and his own wise head and valiant arm and the loyal support of his people. When before has a Prince taken supreme command of a nation's army and in the few months preceding and succeeding his accession to the throne by successful generalship doubled the area and population of his country? [Map: map3.png Caption: The Balkan Peninsula after the Wars of 1912-1913.] COST OF THE WAR The Balkan wars have been bloody and costly. We shall never know of the thousands of men, women, and children who died from privation, disease, and massacre. But the losses of the dead and wounded in the armies were for Montenegro 11,200, for Greece 68,000, for Servia 71,000, for Bulgaria 156,000, and for Turkey about the same as for Bulgaria. The losses in treasure were as colossal as in blood. Only rough computations are possible. But the direct military expenditures are estimated at figures varying from a billion and a quarter to a billion and a half of dollars. This of course takes no account of the paralysis of productive industry, trade, and commerce or of the destruction of existing economic values. Yet great and momentous results have been achieved. Although seated again in his ancient capital of Adrianople, the Moslem has been expelled from Europe, or at any rate is no longer a European Power. For the first time in more than five centuries, therefore, conditions of stable equilibrium are now possible for the Christian nations of the Balkans. Whether the present alignment of those states toward one another and towards the Great Powers is destined to continue it would be foolhardy to attempt to predict. THE FUTURE OF THE BALKANS But without pretending to cast a horoscope, certain significant facts may be mentioned in a concluding word. If the Balkan states are left to themselves, if they are permitted to settle their own affairs without the intervention of the Great Powers, there is no reason why the existing relations between Greece, Servia, Montenegro, and Roumania, founded as they are on mutual interest, should not continue; and if they continue, peace will be assured in spite of Bulgaria's cry for revenge and readjustment. The danger lies in the influence of the Great Powers with their varying attractions and repulsions. France, Germany, and Great Britain, disconnected with the Balkans and remote from them, are not likely to exert much direct individual influence. But their connections with the Triple Alliance and the Triple Entente would not leave them altogether free to take isolated action. And two other members of those European groups--Russia and Austria-Hungary--have long been vitally interested in the Balkan question; while the opposition to Servian annexation on the Adriatic littoral and of Greek annexation in Epirus now for the first time reveals the deep concern of Italy in the same question. The Serbs are Slavs. And the unhappy relations between Servia and Austria-Hungary have always intensified their pro-Russian proclivities. The Roumanians are a Romance people, like the French and Italians, and they have hitherto been regarded as a Balkan extension of the Triple Alliance. The attitude of Austria-Hungary, however, during the Balkan wars has caused a cooling of Roumanian friendship, so that its transference to Russia is no longer inconceivable or even improbable. Greece desires to be independent of both groups of the European system, but the action of Italy in regard to Northern Epirus and in regard to Rhodes and the Dodecanese has produced a feeling of irritation and resentment among the Greeks which nothing is likely to allay or even greatly alleviate. Bulgaria in the past has carried her desire to live an independent national life to the point of hostility to Russia, but since Stambuloff's time she has shown more natural sentiments towards her great Slav sister and liberator. Whether the desire of revenge against Servia (and Greece) will once more draw her toward Austria-Hungary only time can disclose. In any event it will take a long time for all the Balkan states to recover from the terrible exhaustion of the two wars of 1912 and 1913. Their financial resources have been depleted; their male population has been decimated. Necessity, therefore, is likely to co-operate with the community of interest established by the Treaty of Bukarest in the maintenance of conditions of stable equilibrium in the Balkans. Of course the peace-compelling forces operative in the Balkan states themselves might be counteracted by hostile activities on the part of some of the Great Powers. And there is one danger-point for which the Great Powers themselves are solely responsible. This, as I have already explained, is Albania. An artificial creation with unnatural boundaries, it is a grave question whether this so-called state can either manage its own affairs or live in peace with its Serb and Greek neighbors. At this moment the Greeks of Epirus (whom the Great Powers have transferred to Albania) are resisting to the death incorporation in a state which outrages their deepest and holiest sentiments of religion, race, nationality, and humane civilization. On the other hand the Hoti and Gruda tribes on the north fiercely resent annexation to Montenegro (which the Great Powers have decreed) and threaten to summon to their support other Malissori tribes with whom they have had a defensive alliance for several centuries. If Prince William of Wied is unable to cope with these difficulties, Italy and Austria-Hungary may think it necessary to intervene in Albania. But the intervention of either would almost certainly provoke compensatory action on the part of other European Powers, especially Russia. One can only hope that the Great Powers may have wisdom granted to them to find a peaceful solution of the embarrassing problem which they have created in setting up the new state of Albania. That the Albanians themselves will have an opportunity to develop their own national independence I find it impossible to believe. Yet I heard in the summer of 1913 at Valona from the lips of Ismail Kemal Bey, the head of the provisional government, a most impressive statement of his hopes and aspirations for an independent Albania and his faith and confidence in its future, in which he claimed to voice the sentiments of the Albanian people. But, as I have already explained, I think it doubtful whether under the most favorable external circumstances the Albanians are at present qualified to establish and maintain an independent state. And their destiny is so inextricably entangled with the ambitions of some of the Great Powers that the experiment stands no chance of getting a fair trial. I heartily wish the circumstances were other than they are. For as an American I sympathize with the aspirations of all struggling nationalities to be free and independent. And my interest in Albania is deepened, as the interest of all Americans must be deepened, by the fact that a large number of Albanians have now found a home in the United States. 
30902	----	Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction May 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. EXPEDITER His assignment was to get things done; he definitely did so. Not quite the things intended, perhaps, but definitely done. by MACK REYNOLDS ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE SCHELLING * * * * * The knock at the door came in the middle of the night, as Josip Pekic had always thought it would. He had been but four years of age when the knock had come that first time and the three large men had given his father a matter of only minutes to dress and accompany them. He could barely remember his father. The days of the police state were over, so they told you. The cult of the personality was a thing of the past. The long series of five-year plans and seven-year plans were over and all the goals had been achieved. The new constitution guaranteed personal liberties. No longer were you subject to police brutality at the merest whim. So they told you. But fears die hard, particularly when they are largely of the subconscious. And he had always, deep within, expected the knock. [Illustration] He was not mistaken. The rap came again, abrupt, impatient. Josip Pekic allowed himself but one chill of apprehension, then rolled from his bed, squared slightly stooped shoulders, and made his way to the door. He flicked on the light and opened up, even as the burly, empty faced zombi there was preparing to pound still again. There were two of them, not three as he had always dreamed. As three had come for his father, more than two decades before. His father had been a rightist deviationist, so the papers had said, a follower of one of whom Josip had never heard in any other context other than his father's trial and later execution. But he had not cracked under whatever pressures had been exerted upon him, and of that his son was proud. He had not cracked, and in later years, when the cult of personality was a thing of the past, his name had been cleared and returned to the history books. And now it was an honor, rather than a disgrace, to be the son of Ljubo Pekic, who had posthumously been awarded the title Hero of the People's Democratic Dictatorship. But though his father was now a hero, Josip still expected that knock. However, he was rather bewildered at the timing, having no idea of why he was to be under arrest. The first of the zombi twins said expressionlessly, "Comrade Josip Pekic?" If tremor there was in his voice, it was negligible. He was the son of Ljubo Pekic. He said, "That is correct. Uh ... to what do I owe this intrusion upon my privacy?" That last in the way of bravado. The other ignored the question. "Get dressed and come with us, Comrade," he said flatly. At least they still called him comrade. That was some indication, he hoped, that the charges might not be too serious. He chose his dark suit. Older than the brown one, but in it he felt he presented a more self-possessed demeanor. He could use the quality. Five foot seven, slightly underweight and with an air of unhappy self-deprecation, Josip Pekic's personality didn't exactly dominate in a group. He chose a conservative tie and a white shirt, although he knew that currently some frowned upon white shirts as a bourgeois affectation. It was all the thing, these days, to look proletarian, whatever that meant. The zombis stood, watching him emptily as he dressed. He wondered what they would have said had he asked them to wait in the hallway until he was finished. Probably nothing. They hadn't bothered to answer when he asked what the charge against him was. He put his basic papers, his identity card, his student cards, his work record and all the rest in an inner pocket, and faced them. "I am ready," he said as evenly as he could make it come. They turned and led the way down to the street and to the black limousine there. And in it was the third one, sitting in the front seat, as empty of face as the other two. He hadn't bothered to turn off the vehicle's cushion jets and allow it to settle to the street. He had known how very quickly his colleagues would reappear with their prisoner. Josip Pekic sat in the back between the two, wondering just where he was being taken, and, above all, why. For the life of him he couldn't think of what the charge might be. True enough, he read the usual number of proscribed books, but no more than was common among other intellectuals, among the students and the country's avant garde, if such you could call it. He had attended the usual parties and informal debates in the coffee shops where the more courageous attacked this facet or that of the People's Dictatorship. But he belonged to no active organizations which opposed the State, nor did his tendencies attract him in that direction. Politics were not his interest. At this time of the night, there was little traffic on the streets of Zagurest, and few parked vehicles. Most of those which had been rented for the day had been returned to the car-pool garages. It was the one advantage Josip could think of that Zagurest had over the cities of the West which he had seen. The streets were not cluttered with vehicles. Few people owned a car outright. If you required one, you had the local car pool deliver it, and you kept it so long as you needed transportation. He had expected to head for the Kalemegdan Prison where political prisoners were traditionally taken, but instead, they slid off to the right at Partisan Square, and up the Boulevard of the November Revolution. Josip Pekic, in surprise, opened his mouth to say something to the security policeman next to him, but then closed it again and his lips paled. He knew where they were going, now. Whatever the charge against him, it was not minor. A short kilometer from the park, the government buildings began. The Skupstina, the old Parliament left over from the days when Transbalkania was a backward, feudo-capitalistic power of third class. The National Bank, the new buildings of the Borba and the Politica. And finally, set back a hundred feet from the boulevard, the sullen, squat Ministry of Internal Affairs. It had been built in the old days, when the Russians had still dominated the country, and in slavish imitation of the architectural horror known as Stalin Gothic. Meant to be above all efficient and imposing and winding up simply--grim. Yes. Josip Pekic knew where they were going now. * * * * * The limousine slid smoothly on its cushion of air, up the curved driveway, past the massive iron statue of the worker struggling against the forces of reaction, a rifle in one hand, a wrench in the other and stopped before, at last, the well-guarded doorway. Without speaking, the two police who had come to his room opened the car door and climbed out. One made a motion with his head, and Josip followed. The limousine slid away immediately. Between them, he mounted the marble stairs. It occurred to him that this was the route his father must have taken, two decades before. He had never been in the building of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, before. Few Transbalkanians had, other than those who were employed in the MVD, or who came under the Ministry's scrutiny. Doors opened before them, closed behind them. Somewhat to Josip Pekic's surprise the place was copiously adorned with a surplus of metal and marble statues, paintings and tapestries. It had similarities to one of Zagurest's heavy museums. Through doors and down halls and through larger rooms, finally to a smaller one in which sat alone at a desk a lean, competent and assured type who jittered over a heavy sheaf of papers with an electro-marking computer pen. He was nattily and immaculately dressed and smoked his cigarette in one of the small pipelike holders once made _de rigueur_ through the Balkans by Marshal Tito. The three of them came to a halt before his desk and, at long last, expression came to the faces of the zombis. Respect, with possibly an edge of perturbation. Here, obviously, was authority. He at the desk finished a paper, tore it from the sheaf, pushed it into the maw of the desk chute from whence it would be transported to the auto-punch for preparation for recording. He looked up in busy impatience. Then, to Josip Pekic's astonishment, the other came to his feet quickly, smoothly and with a grin on his face. Josip hadn't considered the possibility of being grinned at in the Ministry of Internal Affairs. "Aleksander Kardelj," he said in self-introduction, sticking out a lean hand to be shaken. "You're Pekic, eh? We've been waiting for you." Josip shook, bewildered. He looked at the zombi next to him, uncomprehendingly. He who had introduced himself, darted a look of comprehension from Josip to the two. He said disgustedly, but with mild humor oddly mixed, "What's the matter, did these hoodlums frighten you?" Josip fingered his chin nervously. "Of course not." One of the zombis shifted his feet. "We did nothing except obey orders." Kardelj grimaced in sour amusement. "I can imagine," he grunted. "Milka, you see too many of those imported Telly shows from the West. I suspect you see yourself as a present day Transbalkanian G-Man." "Yes, Comrade," Milka said, and then shook his head. "Oh, hush up and get out," Kardelj said. He flicked the cigarette butt from its holder with a thumb and took up a fresh one from a desk humidor and wedged it into the small bowl. He looked at Josip and grinned again, the action giving his face an unsophisticated youthful expression. "You can't imagine how pleased I am to meet you, at last," he said. "I've been looking for you for months." Josip Pekic ogled him blankly. The name had come through to him at last. Aleksander Kardelj was seldom in the news, practically never photographed, and then in the background in a group of Party functionaries, usually with a wry smile on his face. But he was known throughout the boundaries of the State, if not internationally. Aleksander Kardelj was Number Two. Right-hand man of Zoran Jankez himself, second in command of the Party and rumored to be the brains behind the throne. The zombis had gone, hurriedly. "Looking for me?" Josip said blankly. "I haven't been in hiding. You've made some mistake. All I am is a student of--" "Of course, of course," Kardelj said, humorously impatient. He took up a folder from his desk and shook it absently in Josip's general direction. "I've studied your dossier thoroughly." He flicked his eyes up at a wall clock. "Come along. Comrade Jankez is expecting us. We'll leave explanations until then." In a daze, Josip Pekic followed him. Comrade Jankez, Number One. Zoran Jankez, Secretary General of the Party, President of the U.B.S.R., the United Balkan Soviet Republics. Number One. Josip could hardly remember so far back that Zoran Jankez wasn't head of the Party, when his face, or sculptured bust, wasn't to be seen in every store, on the walls of banks, railroad stations, barber shops, or bars. Never a newsreel but that part of it wasn't devoted to Comrade Jankez, never a Telly newscast but that Number One was brought to the attention of the viewers. His coming to power had been a quiet, bloodless affair upon the death of the Number One who had preceded him, and he had remained in his position for a generation. * * * * * Josip Pekic followed Aleksander Kardelj in a daze, through a door to the rear of the desk, and into a somewhat bigger room, largely barren of furniture save for a massive table with a dozen chairs about it. At the table, looking some ten years older than in any photo Josip had ever seen, sat Zoran Jankez. He looked ten years older, and his face bore a heavy weariness, a grayness, that never came through in his publicity shots. He looked up from a report he was perusing and grunted a welcome to them. Kardelj said in pleasurable enthusiasm, "Here he is, Zoran. Our Comrade Josip Pekic. The average young citizen of Transbalkania." Number One grunted again, and took in the less than imposing figure of Josip Pekic. Josip felt an urge to nibble at his fingernails, and repressed it. He had recently broken himself of the smoking habit and was hard put to find occupation for his hands when nervous. Zoran Jankez growled an invitation for them to be seated and Kardelj adjusted his trousers to preserve the crease, threw one leg up along the heavy conference table, and rested on a buttock, looking at ease but as though ready to take off instantly. Josip fumbled himself into one of the sturdy oaken chairs, staring back and forth at the two most powerful men of his native land. Thus far, no one had said anything that made any sense whatsoever to him since he had been hauled from his bed half an hour ago. Zoran Jankez rasped, "I have gone through your dossier, Comrade. I note that you are the son of Hero of the People's Democratic Dictatorship, Ljubo Pekic." "Yes, Comrade Jankez," Josip got out. He fussed with his hands, decided it would be improper to stick them in his pockets. Number One grunted. "I knew Ljubo well. You must realize that his arrest was before my time. I had no power to aid him. It was, of course, after my being elected to the Secretary Generalship that he was exonerated and his name restored to the list of those who have gloriously served the State. But then, of course, you bear no malice at this late date. Ljubo has been posthumously given the hero's award." It wasn't exactly the way Josip knew the story, but there was little point in his objecting. He simply nodded. He said, unhappily, "Comrades, I feel some mistake has been made. I ... I have no idea--" Kardelj was chuckling, as though highly pleased with some development. He held up a hand to cut Josip short and turned to his superior. "You see, Zoran. A most average, laudable young man. Born under our regime, raised under the People's Democratic Dictatorship. Exactly our man." Zoran Jankez seemed not to hear the other. He was studying Josip heavily, all but gloomily. A beefy paw went out and banged a button inset in the table and which Josip had not noticed before. Almost instantly a door in the rear opened and a white-jacketed servant entered, pushing a wheeled combination bar and hors d'oeuvres cart before him. He brought the lavishly laden wagon to within reach of the heavy-set Party head, his face in servile expressionlessness. Jankez grunted something and the waiter, not quite bowing and scraping, retreated again from the room. Number One's heavy lips moved in and out as his eyes went over the display. Kardelj said easily, "Let me, Zoran." He arose and brought a towel-wrapped bottle from a refrigerated bucket set into the wagon, and deftly took up a delicate three-ounce glass which he filled and placed before his superior. He took up another and raised his eyebrows at Josip Pekic who shook his head--a stomach as queasy as his wasn't going to be helped by alcohol. Kardelj poured a short one for himself and resumed his place at the heavy conference table. Jankez, his eyes small and piggish, took up a heavy slice of dark bread and ladled a full quarter pound of Danube caviar upon it. He took up the glass and tossed the chilled spirits back over his palate, grunted and stuffed the open sandwich into his mouth. [Illustration] Josip's eyes went to the hors d'oeuvres wagon. The spread would have cost him six months' income. Number One rumbled, his mouth full, "Comrade, I am not surprised at your confusion. We will get to the point immediately. Actually, you must consider yourself a very fortunate young man." He belched, took another huge bite, then went on. "Have you ever heard the term, expediter?" "I ... I don't know ... I mean think so, Comrade Jankez." The party head poured himself some more of the yellow spirits and took down half of it. "It is not important," he rasped. "Comrade Kardelj first came upon the germ of this project of ours whilst reading of American industrial successes during the Second World War. They were attempting to double, triple, quadruple their production of such war materiel as ships and aircraft in a matter of mere months. Obviously, a thousand bottlenecks appeared. All was confusion. So they resorted to expediters. Extremely competent efficiency engineers whose sole purpose was to seek out such bottlenecks and eliminate them. A hundred aircraft might be kept from completion by the lack of a single part. The expediter found them though they be as far away as England, and flew them by chartered plane to California. A score of top research chemists might be needed for a certain project in Tennessee, the expediter located them, though it meant the stripping of valued men from jobs of lesser importance. I need give no further examples. Their powers were sweeping. Their expense accounts unlimited. Their successes unbelievable." Number One's eyes went back to the piles of food, as though he'd grown tired of so much talk. Josip fidgeted, still uncomprehending. While the Party leader built himself a huge sandwich of Dalmatian ham and _pohovano pile_ chicken, Aleksander Kardelj put in an enthusiastic word. "We're adapting the idea to our own needs, Comrade. You have been selected to be our first expediter." If anything, Josip Pekic was more confused than ever. "Expediter," he said blankly. "To ... to expedite what?" "That is for you to decide," Kardelj said blithely. "You're our average Transbalkanian. You feel as the average man in the street feels. You're our what the Yankees call, Common Man." Josip said plaintively, "You keep saying that, but I don't know what you mean, Comrade. Please forgive me, perhaps I'm dense, but what is this about me being uh, the average man? There's nothing special about me. I...." "Exactly," Kardelj said triumphantly. "There's nothing special about you. You're the average man of all Transbalkania. We have gone to a great deal of difficulty to seek you out." Number One belched and took over heavily. "Comrade, we have made extensive tests in this effort to find our average man. You are the result. You are of average age, of average height, weight, of education, and of intelligence quotient. You finished secondary school, worked for several years, and have returned to the university where you are now in your second year. Which is average for you who have been born in your generation. Your tastes, your ambitions, your ... dreams, Comrade Pekic, are either known to be, or assumed to be, those of the average Transbalkanian." He took up a rich baklava dessert, saturated with honey, and devoured it. Josip Pekic and his associates had wondered at some of the examinations and tests that had been so prevalent of recent date. He accepted the words of the two Party leaders. Very well, he was the average of the country's some seventy million population. Well, then? * * * * * Number One had pushed himself back in his chair, and Josip was only mildly surprised to note that the man seemed considerably paunchier than his photos indicated. Perhaps he wore a girdle in public. Zoran Jankez took up a paper. "I have here a report from a journalist of the West who but recently returned from a tour of our country. She reports, with some indignation, that the only available eyebrow pencils were to be found on the black market, were of French import, and cost a thousand dinars apiece. She contends that Transbalkanian women are indignant at paying such prices." The Party head looked hopelessly at first Josip and then Kardelj. "What is an eyebrow pencil?" Kardelj said, a light frown on his usually easygoing face, "I believe it is a cosmetic." "You mean like lipstick?" Josip took courage. He flustered. "They use it to darken their eyebrows--women, I mean. From what I understand, it comes and goes in popularity. Right now, it is ultra-popular. A new, uh, fad originating in Italy, is sweeping the West." Number One stared at him. "How do you know all that?" he rasped. Josip fiddled with the knot of his tie, uncomfortably. "It is probably in my dossier that I have journeyed abroad on four occasions. Twice to International Youth Peace Conferences, once as a representative to a Trades Union Convention in Vienna, and once on a tourist vacation guided tour. On those occasions I ... ah ... met various young women of the West." Kardelj said triumphantly, "See what I mean, Zoran? This comrade is priceless." Jankez looked at his right-hand man heavily. "Why, if our women desire this ... this eyebrow pencil nonsense, is it not supplied them? Is there some ingredient we do not produce? If so, why cannot it be imported?" He picked at his uneven teeth with a thumbnail. Kardelj held his lean hands up, as though in humorous supplication. "Because, Comrade, to this point we have not had expediters to find out such desires on the part of women comrades." Number One grunted. He took up another report. "Here we have some comments upon service in our restaurants, right here in Zagurest, from an evidently widely published American travel reporter. He contends that the fact that there is no tipping leads to our waiters being surly and inefficient." He glared up at his right-hand man. "I have never noticed when I have dined at the Sumadija or the Dva Ribara, that the waiters have been surly. And only last week I enjoyed _cigansko pecenje_, gypsy roast, followed by a very flaky cherry _strudla_, at the Gradski Podrum. The service was excellent." Kardelj cleared his throat. "Perhaps you receive better service than the average tourist, Zoran." Jankez growled, "The tourist trade is important. An excellent source of hard currencies." He glowered across at Josip. "These are typical of the weaknesses you must ferret out, Comrade." He put the reports down with a grunt. "But these are comparatively minor. Last week a truck driver attached to a meat-packing house in Belbrovnik was instructed to deliver a load of frozen products to a town in Macenegro. When he arrived there, it was to find they had no refrigeration facilities. So he unloaded the frozen meat on a warehouse platform and returned to Belbrovnik. At this time of the year, obviously in four hours the meat was spoiled." He glowered at Kardelj and then at Josip Pekic. "Why do things like this continually happen? How can we overtake the United States of the Americas and Common Europe, when on all levels our workers are afraid to take initiative? That truck driver fulfilled his instructions. He delivered the meat. He washed his hands of what happened to it afterward. Why, Comrades? Why did he not have the enterprise to preserve his valuable load, even, if necessary, make the decision to return with it to Belbrovnik?" He grunted heavily and settled back into his chair as though through, finished with the whole question. Aleksander Kardelj became brisk. He said to Josip Pekic with a smile, "This is your job. You are to travel about the country, finding bottlenecks, finding shortages, ferreting out mistakes and bringing them to the attention of those in position to rectify them." Josip said glumly, "But suppose ... suppose they ignore my findings?" Number One snorted, but said nothing. Kardelj said jovially, "Tomorrow the announcements will go out to every man, woman and child in the People's Democratic Dictatorship. Your word is law. You are answerable only to Comrade Jankez and myself. No restrictions whatsoever apply to you. No laws. No regulations. We will give you identification which all will recognize, and the bearer of which can do no wrong." Josip was flabbergasted. "But ... but suppose I come up against some ... well, someone high in the Party, or, well ... some general or admiral? Some--" Kardelj said jocularly, "You answer only to us, Comrade Pekic. Your power is limitless. Comrade Jankez did not exaggerate. Frankly, were cold statistics enough, Transbalkania has already at long last overtaken the West in per capita production. Steel, agriculture, the tonnage of coal mined, of petroleum pumped. All these supposed indications of prosperity." He flung up his hands again in his semihumorous gesture of despair. "But all these things do not mesh. We cannot find such a simple matter as ... as eyebrow pencils in our stores, nor can we be served acceptably in our restaurants and hotels. Each man passes the buck, as the Yankees say, and no man can care less whether or not school keeps. No man wants responsibility." Josip was aghast, all over again. "But ... but me ... only me. What could you expect a single person to do?" "Don't misunderstand, Comrade," Kardelj told him with amused compassion. "You are but an experiment. If it works out, we will seek others who are also deemed potential expediters to do similar work. Now, are there any further questions?" Josip Pekic stared miserably back and forth between the two, wondering wildly what they would say if he turned the whole thing down. His eyes lit on the dour, heavy Number One, and inwardly he shook his head. No. There was no question about that. You didn't turn down Zoran Jankez. He looked at Aleksander Kardelj, and in spite of the other's smiling face, he decided you didn't turn down Number Two, either. Josip said carefully, "From what you say, I ... I can override anyone in Transbalkania, except yourselves. But ... but what if I antagonize one of you? You know ... with something I think I find wrong?" The second in command of the Party chuckled, even as he fitted a fresh cigarette into his curved holder. "We've provided even for that, Comrade. Fifty thousand Common Europe francs have been deposited to your account in Switzerland. At any time you feel your revelations might endanger yourself, you are free to leave the country and achieve sanctuary abroad." He chuckled whimsically again. "Given the position you will occupy, a man above all law, with the whole of the nation's resources at his disposal, I cannot imagine you wishing to leave. The Swiss deposit is merely to give you complete confidence, complete security." * * * * * Number One was radiating fury as he stalked heavily down the corridors of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. On the surface, his face displayed nothing--which meant nothing. There was simply a raging aura of trouble. Veljko Gosnjak, posted with one other before the office of Aleksander Kardelj, winced when he saw the Party head approaching. He muttered from the side of his mouth, "Watch out. He's on a rampage. In this mood, he'd as well set you to filling salt shakers in the Nairebis mines as...." But Zoran Jankez was now near enough that he might hear, and Veljko Gosnjak cut himself off abruptly and came to even stiffer attention. Number One ignored them both and pushed on through the door. Even as his right-hand man looked up from his work, Jankez was growling ominously. "Do you know the latest from that brain-wave experiment?" Kardelj was close enough to the other personally to at least pretend lack of awe. He grinned and said, "You mean young Josip? Sit down, Zoran. A drink?" The Number Two Party man swiveled slightly and punched out a code on a series of buttons. Almost immediately, an area of approximately one square foot sank down from the upper right-hand corner of his desk, to rise again bearing two chilled glasses. Jankez snorted his anger but took up one of the glasses. "These everlasting gadgets from the West," he growled. "One of these days, this confounded desk of yours will give you an electric shock that will set me to looking for a new assistant." He threw the contents of the glass back over his palate. "If I don't start looking before that time," he added ominously. However, he savored the drink, then put down the glass, pursed his lips and rumbled, "Where do you get this excellent slivovka, Aleksander?" Kardelj sipped part of his own drink. He said lightly, "That is the only secret I keep from you, Zoran. However, I will give you this hint. Its proper name is sljivovica, rather than slivovka. It does not come from Slovenia. I am afraid, once you know its origin, I will no longer be of use to you." He laughed again. "But what is it that young Josip has done?" His superior's face resumed its dark expression. He growled, "You know Velimir Crvenkovski, of course." Kardelj raised scanty eyebrows. "Of course, Vice chairman of the Secretariat of Agriculture." Zoran Jankez had lowered his clumsy bulk into a chair. Now he said heavily, his voice dangerous. "Velimir and I were partisans together. It was I who converted him to the Party, introduced him to the works of Lenin while we squatted in foxholes in Macenegro." "Of course," the other repeated. "I know the story very well. A good Party man, Comrade Crvenkovski, never failing to vote with you in meetings of the Executive Committee." "Yes," Jankez growled ominously. "And your precious Josip Pekic, your expediter, has removed him from his position as supreme presider of agriculture in Bosnatia." Aleksander Kardelj cleared his throat. "I have just been reading the account. It would seem that production has fallen off considerably in the past five years in Bosnatia. Ah, Comrade Crvenkovski evidently had brought to his attention that wild life in the countryside, particularly birds, accounted for the loss of hundreds of thousands of tons of cereals and other produce annually." "A well-known fact," Jankez rasped. He finished what remained of his drink, and reached forward to punch out the order for a fresh one. "What has that got to do with this pipsqueak using the confounded powers you invested him with to dismiss one of the best Party men in Transbalkania?" His right-hand man had not failed to note that he was now being given full credit for the expediter idea. He said, still cheerfully, however, "It would seem that Comrade Crvenkovski issued top priority orders to kill off, by whatever means possible, all birds. Shotguns, poison, nets were issued by the tens of thousands to the peasants." "_Well?_" his superior said ominously. "Obviously, Velimir was clear minded enough to see the saving in gross production." "Um-m-m," Kardelj said placatingly. "However, he failed to respond to the warnings of our agriculturists who have studied widely in the West. It seems as though the balance of nature calls for the presence of wildlife, and particularly birds. The increase in destructive insects has more than counterbalanced the amount of cereals the birds once consumed. Ah, Zoran," he said with a wry smile, "I would suggest we find another position for Comrade Crvenkovski." * * * * * The secretary-receptionist looked up at long last at the very average looking young man before him. "Yes," he said impatiently. The stranger said, "I would like to see Comrade Broz." "Surely you must realize that the Commissar is one of the busiest men in Transbalkania, Comrade." There was mocking sneer in the tone. "His time is not at the disposal of every citizen." The newcomer looked at the petty authority thoughtfully. "Do you so address everyone that enters this office?" he asked mildly. The other stared at him flabbergasted. He suddenly banged upon a button on the desk. When the security guard responded to the summons, he gestured curtly with his head at the newcomer. "Throw this fool out, Petar," he rapped. Josip Pekic shook his head, almost sadly. "No," he said. "Throw _this_ man out." He pointed at the secretary-receptionist. The guard called Petar blinked at each of them in turn. Josip brought forth his wallet, fidgeted a moment with the contents, then flashed his credentials. "State expediter," he said nervously. "Under direct authority of Comrade Zoran Jankez." He looked at the suddenly terrified receptionist. "I don't know what alternative work we can find to fit your talents. However, if I ever again hear of you holding down a position in which you meet the public, I will ... will, ah, see you imprisoned." The other scurried from the room before Josip thought of more to say. Josip Pekic looked at the guard for a long moment. He said finally, unhappy still, "What are you needed for around here?" "Why yes, Comrade. I am the security guard." Petar, obviously no brain at the best, was taken aback. "You didn't answer my question." Josip's hands were jittering so he jammed them into his pockets. Petar had to think back to remember the wording of the question in question. Finally he came up triumphantly with, "Yes, Comrade. I guard Comrade Broz and the others from assassins. I am armed." He proudly displayed the Mikoyan Noiseless which he had holstered under his left shoulder. Josip said, "Go back to your superior and inform him that I say you are superfluous on this assignment. No longer are commissars automatically to be guarded. Only under special circumstances. If ... well, if our people dislike individual commissars sufficiently to wish to assassinate them, maybe they need assassination." Petar stared at him. "Oh, get out," Josip said, with attempted sharpness. But then, "What door leads to Comrade Broz's office?" Petar pointed, then got out. At least he knew how to obey orders, Josip decided. What was there about the police mentality? Were they like that before they became police, and the job sought them out? Or did the job make them all that way? He pushed his way through the indicated door. The office beyond held but one inhabitant who stood, hands clasped behind his back, while he stared in obvious satisfaction at a wall of charts, maps and graphs. The average young man looked at some of the lettering on the charts and shook his head. He said, his voice hesitant, "Commissar Broz?" The other turned, frowning, not recognizing his caller and surprised to find him here without announcement. He said, "Yes, young man?" Josip presented his credentials again. Broz had heard of him. He hurried forth a chair, became expansive in manner. A cigar? A drink? A great pleasure to meet the Comrade Expediter. He had heard a great deal about the new experiment initiated by Comrade Jankez and ably assisted by Aleksander Kardelj. Happily, an expediter was not needed in the Transbalkanian Steel Complex. It was expanding in such wise as to be the astonishment of the world, both East and West. "Yes," Josip began glumly, "but--" Broz was back on his feet and to his wall of charts and graphs. "See here," he beamed expansively. "This curve is steel production. See how it zooms? A veritable Sputnik, eh? Our statistics show that we are rapidly surpassing even the most foremost of the Western powers." Josip Pekic said, almost apologetically in view of the other's enthusiasm. "That's what I came to discuss with you, Comrade. You see, I've been sitting around, ah, in the local wineshops, talking it over with the younger engineers and the men on the job." The other frowned at him. "Talking what over?" "This new policy of yours." Josip's voice was diffident. "You mean overtaking the steel production of the West, by utilizing _all_ methods of production?" The commissar's voice dropped. "I warn you Comrade, the germ of this idea originated with Zoran Jankez himself. We are old comrades and friends from back before the revolution." "I'm sure you are," Josip said pessimistically, and suppressing an urge to bite at the skin of his thumb. "However ... well, I'm not so sure Number One will admit your program originated with him. At least, it hasn't worked out that way in the recent past when something soured." The other bug-eyed. He whispered, "That approaches cynical treason, Comrade." Josip half nodded, said discouragedly, "You forget. By Comrade Jankez's own orders I ... I can do no wrong. But so much for that. Now, well, this steel program. I'm afraid it's going to have to be scrapped." "Scrapped!" the Commissar of the Transbalkanian Steel Complex stared at his visitor as though the other was rabid. "You fool! Our steel progress is the astonishment of the world! Why, not only are our ultramodern plants, built largely with foreign assistance, working on a twenty-four hour a day basis, but thousands of secondary smelters, some so small as to be operated by a handful of comrade citizens, in backyard establishments, by schoolchildren, working smelters of but a few tons monthly capacity in the schoolyard, by--" * * * * * The newly created State Expediter held up a hand dispiritedly. "I know. I know. Thousands of these backyard smelters exist ... uh ... especially in parts of the country where there is neither ore nor fuel available." The commissar looked at him. The younger man said, his voice seemingly deprecating his words, "The schoolchildren, taking time off from their studies, of course, bring scrap iron to be smelted. And they bring whatever fuel they can find, often pilfered from railway yards. And the more scrap and fuel they bring, the more praise they get. Unfortunately, the so-called scrap often turns out to be kitchen utensils, farm tools, even, on at least on occasion, some railroad tracks, from a narrow gauge line running up to a lumbering project, not in use that time of the year. Sooner or later, Comrade Broz, the nation is going to have to replace those kitchen utensils and farm tools and all the rest of the scrap that isn't really quite scrap." The commissar began to protest heatedly, but Josip Pekic shook his head and tried to firm his less than dominating voice. "But even that's not the worst of it. Taking citizens away from their real occupations, or studies, and putting them to smelting steel where no ore exists. The worst of it is, so my young engineer friends tell me, that while the steel thus produced might have been a marvel back in the days of the Hittites, it hardly reaches specifications today. Perhaps it might be used ultimately to make simple farm tools such as hoes and rakes; if so, it would make quite an endless circle, because that is largely the source of the so-called steel to begin with--tools, utensils and such. But it hardly seems usable in modern industry." The commissar had gone pale with anger by now. He put his two fists on his desk and leaned upon them, staring down at his seated visitor. "Comrade," he bit out, "I warn you. Comrade Jankez is enthusiastic about my successes. Beyond that, not only is he an old comrade, but my brother-in-law as well." Josip Pekic nodded, unenthusiastically, and his voice continued to quiver. "So the trained engineers under you, have already warned me. However, Comrade Broz, you are ... well, no longer Commissar of the Steel Complex. My report has already gone in to Comrades Jankez and Kardelj." * * * * * The knock came at the door in the middle of the night as Aleksander Kardelj had always thought it would. From those early days of his Party career, when his ambitions had sent him climbing, pushing, tripping up others, on his way to the top, he had expected it eventually. Oh, his had been a different approach, on the surface, an easygoing, laughing, gentler approach than one usually connected with members of the Secretariat of the Executive Committee of the Party, but it made very little difference in the very long view. When one fell from the heights, he fell just as hard, whether or not he was noted for his sympathetic easy humor. The fact was, Aleksander Kardelj was not asleep when the fist pounded at his door shortly after midnight. He had but recently turned off, with a shaking hand, the Telly-Phone, after a less than pleasant conversation with President of the United Balkan Soviet Republics, Zoran Jankez. For the past ten years, Kardelj had been able to placate Zoran Jankez, even though Number One be at the peak of one of his surly rages, rages which seemed to be coming with increasing frequency of late. As the socio-economic system of the People's Democratic Dictatorship became increasingly complicated, as industrialization with its modern automation mushroomed in a geometric progression, the comparative simplicity of governing which applied in the past, was strictly of yesteryear. It had been one thing, rifle and grenades in hand, to seize the government, after a devastating war in which the nation had been leveled, and even to maintain it for a time, over illiterate peasants and unskilled proletarians. But industrialization calls for a highly educated element of scientists and technicians, nor does it stop there. One of sub-mentality can operate a shovel in a field, or even do a simple operation on an endless assembly line in a factory. But practically all workers must be highly skilled workers in the age of automation, and there is little room for the illiterate. The populace of the People's Dictatorship was no longer a dumb, driven herd, and their problems were no longer simple ones. Yes, Number One was increasingly subject to his rages these days. It was Aleksander Kardelj's deepest belief that Jankez was finding himself out of his depth. He no longer was capable of understanding the problems which his planning bodies brought to his attention. And he who is confused, be he ditchdigger or dictator, is a man emotionally upset. Zoran Jankez's face had come onto the Telly-Phone screen already enraged. He had snapped to his right-hand man, "Kardelj! Do you realize what that ... that idiot of yours has been up to now?" Inwardly, Kardelj had winced. His superior had been mountingly difficult of late, and particularly these past few days. He said now, cajolingly, "Zoran, I--" "Don't call me Zoran, Kardelj! And please preserve me from your sickening attempts to fawn, in view of your treacherous recommendations of recent months." He was so infuriated that his heavy jowls shook. Kardelj had never seen him this furious. He said placatingly, "Comrade Jankez, I had already come to the conclusion that I should consult you on the desirability of revoking this young troublemaker's credentials and removing him from the--" "I am not interested in what you were _going_ to do, Kardelj. I am already in the process of ending this traitor's activities. I should have known, when you revealed he was the son of Ljubo Pekic, that he was an enemy of the State, deep within. I know the Pekic blood. It was I who put Ljubo to the question. Stubborn, wrong headed, a vicious foe of the revolution. And his son takes after him." Kardelj had enough courage left to say, "Comrade, it would seem to me that young Pekic is a tanglefoot, but not a conscious traitor. I--" "Don't call me comrade, Kardelj!" Number One roared. "I know your inner motivation. The reason you brought this agent provocateur, this Trotskyite wrecker, to this position of ridiculous power. The two of you are in conspiracy to undermine my authority. This will be brought before the Secretariat of the Executive Committee, Kardelj. You've gone too far, this time!" [Illustration] Aleksander Kardelj had his shortcomings but he was no coward. He said, wryly, "Very well, sir. But would you tell me what Josip Pekic has done now? My office has had no report on him for some time." "What he has done! You fool, you traitorous fool, have you kept no record at all? He has been in the Macedonian area where my virgin lands program has been in full swing." Kardelj cleared his throat at this point. Jankez continued roaring. "The past three years, admittedly, the weather has been such, the confounded rains failing to arrive on schedule, that we have had our troubles. But this fool! This blundering traitorous idiot!" "What has he done?" Kardelj asked, intrigued in spite of his position of danger. "For all practical purposes he's ordered the whole program reversed. Something about a sandbowl developing, whatever that is supposed to mean. Something about introducing contour plowing, whatever nonsense that is. And even reforesting some areas. Some nonsense about watersheds. He evidently has blinded and misled the very men I had in charge. They are supporting him, openly." Jankez, Kardelj knew, had been a miner as a youth, with no experience whatsoever on the soil. However, the virgin lands project had been his pet. He envisioned hundreds upon thousands of square miles of maize, corn as the Americans called it. This in turn would feed vast herds of cattle and swine so that ultimately the United Balkan Soviet Republics would have the highest meat consumption in the world. Number One was raging on. Something about a conspiracy on the part of those who surrounded him. A conspiracy to overthrow him, Zoran Jankez, and betray the revolution to the Western powers, but he, Zoran Jankez, had been through this sort of plot before. He, Zoran Jankez, knew the answers to such situations. Aleksander Kardelj grinned humorously, wryly, and reached to flick off the screen. He twisted a cigarette into the small pipelike holder, lit it and waited for the inevitable. It was shortly after that the knock came on his door. * * * * * Zoran Jankez sat at his desk in the Ministry of Internal Affairs, a heavy military revolver close to his right hand, a half empty liter of sljivovica and a water tumbler, to his left. Red of eye, he pored over endless reports from his agents, occasionally taking time out to growl a command into his desk mike. Tired he was, from the long sleepless hours he was putting in, but Number One was in his element. As he had told that incompetent, Kardelj, he had been through this thing before. It was no mistake that he was Number One. After a time he put a beefy hand down on the reports. He could feel the rage coming upon him. Of late, he realized, there most certainly had developed a plot to undermine his health by constant frustrations. Was there no one, no one at all, to take some of these trivialities off his shoulders? Must he do everything in the People's Democratic Dictatorship? Make every decision and see it through? He snapped into the mike, "Give me Lazar Jovanovic." And then, when the police head's shaven poll appeared in the screen of the Telly-Phone, "Comrade, I am giving you one last chance. Produce this traitor, Josip Pekic, within the next twenty-four hours, or answer to me." He glared at the other, whose face had tightened in fear. "I begin to doubt the sincerity of your efforts, in this, Comrade Jovanovic." "But ... but, Comrade, I--" "That's all!" Number One snapped. He flicked off the instrument, then glowered at it for a full minute. If Jovanovic couldn't locate Pekic, he'd find someone who could. It was maddening that the pipsqueak had seemingly disappeared. To this point, seeking him had progressed in secret. There had been too much favorable publicity churned out in the early days of the expediter scheme to reverse matters to the point of having a public hue and cry. It was being done on the q.t. But! Number One raged inwardly, if his police couldn't find the criminal soon enough, a full-scale hunt and purge could well enough be launched. There was more to all this than met the eye. Oh, he, Zoran Jankez had been through it before, though long years had lapsed since it had been necessary. The traitors, the secret conspiracies, and then the required purges to clean the Party ranks still once again. The gentle summons of his Telly-Phone tinkled, and he flicked it on with a rough brush of his hand. And there was the youthful face of Josip Pekic, currently being sought high and low by the full strength of the Internal Affairs Secretariat. Youthful, yes, but even as he stared his astonishment, Zoran Jankez could see that the past months had wrought their changes on the other's face. It was more mature, bore more of strain and weariness. Before Jankez found his voice. Josip Pekic said diffidently, "I ... I understand you've been, well ... looking for me, sir." "Looking for you!" the Party head bleated, his rage ebbing in all but uncontrollably. For a moment he couldn't find words. Pekic said, his voice jittering, "I had some research to do. You see, sir, this ... this project you and Kardelj started me off on--" "I had nothing to do with it! It was Kardelj's scheme, confound his idiocy!" Number One all but screamed. "Oh? Well ... well, I had gathered the opinion that both of you concurred. Anyway, like I say, the project from the first didn't come off quite the way it started. I ... well ... we, were thinking in terms of finding out why waiters were surly, why workers and professionals and even officials tried to, uh, beat the rap, pass the buck, look out for themselves and the devil take the hindmost, and all those Americanisms that Kardelj is always using." Jankez simmered, but let the other go on. Undoubtedly, his police chief, Lazar Jovanovic was even now tracing the call, and this young traitor would soon be under wraps where he could do no more damage to the economy of the People's Democratic Dictatorship. "But, well, I found it wasn't just a matter of waiters, and truckdrivers and such. It ... well ... ran all the way from top to bottom. So, I finally felt as though I was sort of butting my head against the wall. I thought I better start at ... kind of ... fundamentals, so I began researching the manner in which the governments of the West handled some of these matters." "Ah," Jankez said as smoothly as he was able to get out. "Ah. And?" This fool was hanging himself. The younger man frowned in unhappy puzzlement. "Frankly, I was surprised. I have, of course, read Western propaganda to the extent I could get hold of it in Zagurest, and listened to the Voice of the West on the wireless. I was also, obviously, familiar with our own propaganda. Frankly ... well ... I had reserved my opinion in both cases." * * * * * This in itself was treason, but Number One managed to get out, almost encouragingly, "What are you driving at, Josip Pekic?" "I found in one Western country that the government was actually paying its peasants, that is, farmers, not to plant crops. The same government subsidized other crops, keeping the prices up to the point where they were hard put to compete on the international markets." Young Pekic made a moue, as though in puzzlement. "In other countries, in South America for instance, where the standard of living is possibly the lowest in the West and they need funds desperately to develop themselves, the governments build up large armies, although few of them have had any sort of warfare at all for over a century and have no threat of war." "What is all this about?" Number One growled. Surely, Lazar Jovanovic was on the idiot traitor's trail by now. Josip took a deep breath and hurried on nervously. "They've got other contradictions that seem unbelievable. For instance, their steel industry will be running at half capacity, in spite of the fact that millions of their citizens have unfulfilled needs, involving steel. Things like cars, refrigerators, stoves. In fact, in their so-called recessions, they'll actually close down perfectly good, modern factories, and throw their people out of employment, at the very time that there are millions of people who need that factory's product." Josip said reasonably, "Why, sir, I've come to the conclusion that the West has some of the same problems we have. And the main one is politicians." "What? What do you mean?" "Just that," Josip said with dogged glumness. "I ... well, I don't know about the old days. A hundred, even fifty years ago, but as society becomes more complicated, more intricate, I simply don't think politicians are capable of directing it. The main problems are those of production and distribution of all the things our science and industry have learned to turn out. And politicians, all over the world, seem to foul it up." Zoran Jankez growled ominously, "Are you suggesting that I am incompetent to direct the United Balkan Soviet Republics?" "Yes, sir," Josip said brightly, as though the other had encouraged him. "That's what I mean. You or any other politician. Industry should be run by trained, competent technicians, scientists, industrialists--and to some extent, maybe, by the consumers, but not by politicians. By definition, politicians know about politics, not industry. But somehow, in the modern world, governments seem to be taking over the running of industry and even agriculture. They aren't doing such a good job, sir." Jankez finally exploded. "Where are you calling from, Pekic?" he demanded. "You're under arrest!" Josip Pekic cleared his throat, apologetically. "No, sir," he said. "Remember? I'm the average Transbalkanian citizen. And it is to be assumed I'd, well ... react the way any other would. The difference is, I had the opportunity. I'm in Switzerland." "Switzerland!" Number One roared. "You've defected. I knew you were a traitor, Pekic. Like father, like son! A true Transbalkanian would remain in his country and help it along the road to the future." The younger man looked worried. "Well, yes, sir," he said. "I thought about that. But I think I've done about as much as I could accomplish. You see, these last few months, protected by those 'can do no wrong' credentials, I've been spreading this message around among all the engineers, technicians, professionals, all the more trained, competent people in Transbalkania. You'd be surprised how they took to it. I think it's kind of ... well, snowballing. I mean the idea that politicians aren't capable of running industry. That if the United Balkan Soviet Republics are to ever get anywhere, some changes are going to have to be made." Number One could no more than glare. Josip Pekic, rubbed his nose nervously, and said, in the way of uneasy farewell, "I just thought it was only fair for me to call you and give a final report. After all, I didn't start all this. Didn't originate the situation. It was you and Kardelj who gave me my chance. I just ... well ... expedited things." His face faded from the screen, still apologetic of expression. Zoran Jankez sat there for a long time, staring at the now dark instrument. It was the middle of the night when the knock came at the door. But then, Zoran Jankez had always thought it would ... finally. * * * * * 
36192	----	THE BALKAN WARS 1912-1913 BY JACOB GOULD SCHURMAN PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS PRINCETON LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 1914 Copyright, June 1914, December 1914, by PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS Second Edition Published December, 1914 {v} PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION The interest in the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913 has exceeded the expectations of the publishers of this volume. The first edition, which was published five months ago, is already exhausted and a second is now called for. Meanwhile there has broken out and is now in progress a war which is generally regarded as the greatest of all time--a war already involving five of the six Great Powers and three of the smaller nations of Europe as well as Japan and Turkey and likely at any time to embroil other countries in Europe, Asia, and Africa, which are already embraced in the area of military operations. This War of Many Nations had its origin in the Balkan situation. It began on July 28 with the declaration of the Dual Monarchy {vi} to the effect that from that moment Austria-Hungary was in a state of war with Servia. And the fundamental reason for this declaration as given in the note or ultimatum to Servia was the charge that the Servian authorities had encouraged the Pan-Serb agitation which seriously menaced the integrity of Austria-Hungary and had already caused the assassination at Sarajevo of the Heir to the Throne. No one could have observed at close range the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913 without perceiving, always in the background and occasionally in the foreground, the colossal rival figures of Russia and Austria-Hungary. Attention was called to the phenomenon at various points in this volume and especially in the concluding pages. The issue of the Balkan struggles of 1912-1913 was undoubtedly favorable to Russia. By her constant diplomatic support she retained the friendship and earned the gratitude of Greece, Montenegro, and Servia; and through her {vii} championship, belated though it was, of the claims of Roumania to territorial compensation for benevolent neutrality during the war of the Allies against Turkey, she won the friendship of the predominant Balkan power which had hitherto been regarded as the immovable eastern outpost of the Triple Alliance. But while Russia was victorious she did not gain all that she had planned and hoped for. Her very triumph at Bukarest was a proof that she had lost her influence over Bulgaria. This Slav state after the war against Turkey came under the influence of Austria-Hungary, by whom she was undoubtedly incited to strife with Servia and her other partners in the late war against Turkey. Russia was unable to prevent the second Balkan war between the Allies. The Czar's summons to the Kings of Bulgaria and Servia on June 9, 1913, to submit, in the name of Pan-Slavism, their disputes to his decision failed to produce the desired effect, while this assumption of Russian hegemony in Balkan affairs greatly {viii} exacerbated Austro-Hungarian sentiment. That action of the Czar, however, was clear notification and proof to all the world that Russia regarded the Slav States in the Balkans as objects of her peculiar concern and protection. The first Balkan War--the war of the Allies against Turkey--ended in a way that surprised all the world. Everybody expected a victory for the Turks. That the Turks should one day be driven out of Europe was the universal assumption, but it was the equally fixed belief that the agents of their expulsion would be the Great Powers or some of the Great Powers. That the little independent States of the Balkans should themselves be equal to the task no one imagined,--no one with the possible exception of the government of Russia. And as Russia rejoiced over the victory of the Balkan States and the defeat of her secular Mohammedan neighbor, Austria-Hungary looked on not only with amazement but with disappointment and chagrin. {ix} For the contemporaneous diplomacy of the Austro-Hungarian government was based on the assumption that the Balkan States would be vanquished by Turkey. And its standing policy had been on the one hand to keep the Kingdom of Servia small and weak (for the Dual Monarchy was itself an important Serb state) and on the other hand to broaden her Adriatic possessions and also to make her way through Novi Bazar and Macedonia to Saloniki and the Aegean, when the time came to secure this concession from the Sultan without provoking a European war. It seemed in 1908 as though the favorable moment had arrived to make a first move, and the Austro-Hungarian government put forward a project for connecting the Bosnian and Macedonian railway systems. But the only result was to bring to an end the co-operation which had for some years been maintained between the Austrian and Russian governments in the enforcement upon the Porte of the adoption of reforms in Macedonia. {x} And now the result of the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913 was the practical expulsion of Turkey from Europe and the territorial aggrandizement of Servia and the sister state of Montenegro through the annexation of those very Turkish domains which lay between the Austro-Hungarian frontier and the Aegean. At every point Austro-Hungarian policies had met with reverses. Only one success could possibly be attributed to the diplomacy of the Ballplatz. The exclusion of Servia from the Adriatic Sea and the establishment of the independent State of Albania was the achievement of Count Berchtold, the Austro-Hungarian Minister of Foreign Affairs. The new State has been a powder magazine from the beginning, and since the withdrawal of Prince William of Wied, the government, always powerless, has fallen into chaos. Intervention on the part of neighboring states is inevitable. And only last month the southern part of Albania--that is, Northern {xi} Epirus--was occupied by a Greek army for the purpose of ending the sanguinary anarchy which has hitherto prevailed. This action will be no surprise to the readers of this volume. The occupation, or rather re-occupation, is declared by the Greek Government to be provisional and it is apparently approved by all the Great Powers. Throughout the rest of Albania similar intervention will be necessary to establish order, and to protect the life and property of the inhabitants without distinction of race, tribe, or creed. Servia might perhaps have governed the country, had she not been compelled by the Great Powers, at the instigation of Austria-Hungary, to withdraw her forces. And her extrusion from the Adriatic threw her back toward the Aegean, with the result of shutting Bulgaria out of Central Macedonia, which was annexed by Greece and Servia presumably under arrangements satisfactory to the latter for an outlet to the sea at Saloniki. The war declared by Austria-Hungary {xii} against Servia may be regarded to some extent as an effort to nullify in the interests of the former the enormous advantages which accrued directly to Servia and indirectly to Russia from the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913. That Russia should have come to the support of Servia was as easy to foresee as any future political event whatever. And the action of Germany and France once war had broken out between their respective allies followed as a matter of course. If the Austro-German Alliance wins in the War of Many Nations it will doubtless control the eastern Adriatic and open up a way for itself to the Aegean. Indeed, in that event, German trade and German political influence would spread unchallenged across the continents from the North Sea to the Persian Gulf and the Indian Ocean. Turkey is a friend and ally; but even if Turkey were hostile she would have no strength to resist such victorious powers. And the Balkan States, with the defeat of Russia, would be compelled to recognize Germanic supremacy. {xiii} If on the other hand the Allies come out victorious in the War of Many Nations, Servia and perhaps Roumania would be permitted to annex the provinces occupied by their brethren in the Dual Monarchy and Servian expansion to the Adriatic would be assured. The Balkan States would almost inevitably fall under the controlling influence of Russia, who would become mistress of Constantinople and gain an unrestricted outlet to the Mediterranean through the Bosphorus, the Sea of Marmora, and the Dardanelles. In spite of themselves the destiny of the peoples of the Balkans is once more set on the issue of war. It is not inconceivable, therefore, that some or all of those States may be drawn into the present colossal conflict. In 1912-1913 the first war showed Bulgaria, Greece, Montenegro, and Servia allied against Turkey; and in the second war Greece, Montenegro, and Servia were joined by Roumania in the war against Bulgaria, who was also independently attacked {xiv} by Turkey. What may happen in 1914 or 1915 no one can predict. But if this terrible conflagration, which is already devastating Europe and convulsing all the continents and vexing all the oceans of the globe, spreads to the Balkans, one may hazard the guess that Greece, Montenegro, Servia, and Roumania will stand together on the side of the Allies and that Bulgaria if she is not carried away by marked Austro-German victories will remain neutral,--unless indeed the other Balkan States win her over, as they not inconceivably might do, if they rose to the heights of unwonted statesmanship by recognizing her claim to that part of Macedonia in which the Bulgarian element predominates but which was ceded to her rivals by the Treaty of Bukarest. But I have said enough to indicate that as in its origin so also in its results this awful cataclysm under which the civilized world is now reeling will be found to be vitally connected with the Balkan Wars of 1912-1913. And I conclude {xv} with the hope that the present volume, which devotes indeed but little space to military matters and none at all to atrocities and massacres, may prove helpful to readers who seek light on the underlying conditions, the causes, and the consequences of those historic struggles. The favor already accorded to the work and the rapid exhaustion of the first edition* seem to furnish some justification of this hope. JACOB GOULD SCHURMAN. _November 26, 1914._ *The present work is rather a reprint than a new edition, few changes having been made except the correction of typographical errors. {1} I TURKEY AND THE BALKAN STATES [Illustration: Map: The Balkan Peninsula before the Wars of 1912-1913.] {3} I TURKEY AND THE BALKAN STATES The expulsion of the Turks from Europe was long ago written in the book of fate. There was nothing uncertain about it except the date and the agency of destiny. THE TURKISH EMPIRE IN EUROPE A little clan of oriental shepherds, the Turks had in two generations gained possession of the whole of the northwest corner of Asia Minor and established themselves on the eastern shore of the Bosphorus. The great city of Brusa, whose groves to-day enshrine the stately beauty of their mosques and sultans' tombs, capitulated to Orkhan, the son of the first Sultan, in 1326; and Nicaea, the cradle of the Greek church and temporary capital of the Greek Empire, {4} surrendered in 1330. On the other side of the Bosphorus Orkhan could see the domes and palaces of Constantinople which, however, for another century was to remain the seat of the Byzantine Empire. The Turks crossed the Hellespont and, favored by an earthquake, marched in 1358 over the fallen walls and fortifications into the city of Gallipoli. In 1361 Adrianople succumbed to the attacks of Orkhan's son, Murad I, whose sway was soon acknowledged in Thrace and Macedonia, and who was destined to lead the victorious Ottoman armies as far north as the Danube. But though the provinces of the corrupt and effete Byzantine Empire were falling into the hands of the Turks, the Slavs were still unsubdued. Lazar the Serb threw down the gauntlet to Murad. On the memorable field of Kossovo, in 1389, the opposing forces met--Murad supported by his Asiatic and European vassals and allies, and Lazar with his formidable army of {5} Serbs, Bosnians, Albanians, Poles, Magyars, and Vlachs. Few battles in the world have produced such a deep and lasting impression as this battle of Kossovo, in which the Christian nations after long and stubborn resistance were vanquished by the Moslems. The Servians still sing ballads which cast a halo of pathetic romance round their great disaster. And after more than five centuries the Montenegrins continue to wear black on their caps in mourning for that fatal day. In the next two centuries the Ottoman Empire moved on toward the zenith of its glory. Mohammed II conquered Constantinople in 1453. And in 1529 Suleyman the Magnificent was at the gates of Vienna. Suleyman's reign forms the climax of Turkish history. The Turks had become a central European power occupying Hungary and menacing Austria. Suleyman's dominions extended from Mecca to Buda-Pesth and from Bagdad to Algiers. He commanded the Mediterranean, the Euxine, {6} and the Red Sea, and his navies threatened the coasts of India and Spain. But the conquests of the Turks were purely military. They did nothing for their subjects, whom they treated with contempt, and they wanted nothing from them but tribute and plunder. As the Turks were always numerically inferior to the aggregate number of the peoples under their sway, their one standing policy was to keep them divided--_divide et impera_. To fan racial and religious differences among their subjects was to perpetuate the rule of the masters. The whole task of government, as the Turks conceived it, was to collect tribute from the conquered and keep them in subjection by playing off their differences against one another. But a deterioration of Turkish rulers set in soon after the time of Suleyman with a corresponding decline in the character and efficiency of the army. And the growth of Russia and the reassertion of Hungary, Poland, and Austria {7} were fatal to the maintenance of an alien and detested empire founded on military domination alone. By the end of the seventeenth century the Turks had been driven out of Austria, Hungary, Transylvania, and Podolia, and the northern boundaries of their Empire were fixed by the Carpathians, the Danube, and the Save. How marked and rapid was the further decline of the Ottoman Empire may be inferred from the fact that twice in the eighteenth century Austria and Russia discussed the project of dividing it between them. But the inevitable disintegration of the Turkish dominion was not to inure to the glorification of any of the Great Powers, though Russia certainly contributed to the weakening of the common enemy. The decline and diminution of the Ottoman Empire continued throughout the nineteenth century. What happened, however, was the revolt of subject provinces and the creation out of the territory of European Turkey of the independent states of Greece, Servia, {8} Roumania, and Bulgaria. And it was Bulgarians, Greeks, and Servians, with the active assistance of the Montenegrins and the benevolent neutrality of the Roumanians, who, in the war of 1912-1913, drove the Turk out of Europe, leaving him nothing but the city of Constantinople and a territorial fringe bordered by the Chataldja line of fortifications. THE EARLIER SLAV EMPIRES There is historic justice in the circumstance that the Turkish Empire in Europe met its doom at the hands of the Balkan nations themselves. For these nationalities had been completely submerged and even their national consciousness annihilated under centuries of Moslem intolerance, misgovernment, oppression, and cruelty. None suffered worse than Bulgaria, which lay nearest to the capital of the Mohammedan conqueror. Yet Bulgaria had had a glorious, if checkered, history long before there existed {9} any Ottoman Empire either in Europe or in Asia. From the day their sovereign Boris accepted Christianity in 864 the Bulgarians had made rapid and conspicuous progress in their ceaseless conflicts with the Byzantine Empire. The Bulgarian church was recognized as independent by the Greek patriarch at Constantinople; its primates subsequently received the title of patriarch, and their see was established at Preslav, and then successively westward at Sofia, Vodena, Presba, and finally Ochrida, which looks out on the mountains of Albania. Under Czar Simeon, the son of Boris, "Bulgaria," says Gibbon, "assumed a rank among the civilized powers of the earth." His dominions extended from the Black Sea to the Adriatic and comprised the greater part of Macedonia, Greece, Albania, Servia, and Dalmatia; leaving only to the Byzantine Empire--whose civilization he introduced and sedulously promoted among the Bulgarians--the cities of Constantinople, Saloniki, and Adrianople with {10} the territory immediately surrounding them. But this first Bulgarian Empire was short-lived, though the western part remained independent under Samuel, who reigned, with Ochrida as his capital, from 976 to 1014. Four years later the Byzantine Emperor, Basil II, annihilated the power of Samuel, and for a hundred and fifty years the Bulgarian people remained subject to the rule of Constantinople. In 1186 under the leadership of the brothers Asen they regained their independence. And the reign of Czar Asen II (1218-1240) was the most prosperous period of all Bulgarian history. He restored the Empire of Simeon, his boast being that he had left to the Byzantines nothing but Constantinople and the cities round it, and he encouraged commerce, cultivated arts and letters, founded and endowed churches and monasteries, and embellished his capital, Trnovo, with beautiful and magnificent buildings. After Asen came a period of decline culminating in a humiliating defeat by the Servians {11} in 1330. The quarrels of the Christian races of the Balkans facilitated the advance of the Moslem invader, who overwhelmed the Serbs and their allies on the memorable field of Kossovo in 1389, and four years later captured and burned the Bulgarian capital, Trnovo, Czar Shishman himself perishing obscurely in the common destruction. For five centuries Bulgaria remained under Moslem despotism, we ourselves being the witnesses of her emancipation in the last thirty-five years. The fate of the Serbs differed only in degree from that of the Bulgarians. Converted to Christianity in the middle of the ninth century, the major portion of the race remained till the twelfth century under either Bulgarian or Byzantine sovereignty. But Stephen Nemanyo brought under his rule Herzegovina, Montenegro, and part of modern Servia and old Servia, and on his abdication in 1195 in favor of his son launched a royal dynasty which reigned over the Serb people for two centuries. Of {12} that line the most distinguished member was Stephen Dushan, who reigned from 1331 to 1355. He wrested the whole of the Balkan Peninsula from the Byzantine Emperor, and took Belgrade, Bosnia, and Herzegovina from the King of Hungary. He encouraged literature, gave to his country a highly advanced code of laws, and protected the church whose head--the Archbishop of Ipek--he raised to the dignity of patriarch. On Easter Day 1346 he had himself crowned at Uskub as "Emperor of the Greeks and Serbs." A few years later he embarked on an enterprise by which, had he been successful, he might have changed the course of European history. It was nothing less than the capture of Constantinople and the union of Serbs, Bulgarians, and Greeks into an empire which might defend Christendom against the rising power of Islam. Dushan was within forty miles of his goal with an army of 80,000 men when he died suddenly in camp on the 20th of December, 1355. Thirty-four years {13} later Dushan's countrymen were annihilated by the Turks at Kossovo! All the Slavonic peoples of the Balkan Peninsula save the brave mountaineers of Montenegro came under Moslem subjection. And under Moslem subjection they remained till the nineteenth century. TURKISH OPPRESSION OF SLAVS It is impossible to give any adequate description of the horrors of Turkish rule in these Christian countries of the Balkans. Their people, disqualified from holding even the smallest office, were absolutely helpless under the oppression of their foreign masters, who ground them down under an intolerable load of taxation and plunder. The culminating cruelty was the tribute of Christian children from ten to twelve years of age who were sent to Constantinople to recruit the corps of janissaries. It is not surprising that for the protection of their wives and children and the safeguarding of their interests the nobles of Bosnia and the {14} Pomaks of Southeastern Bulgaria embraced the creed of their conquerors; the wonder is that the people as a whole remained true to their Christian faith even at the cost of daily martyrdom from generation to generation. Their fate too grew worse as the Turkish power declined after the unsuccessful siege of Vienna in 1683. For at first Ottoman troops ravaged Bulgaria as they marched through the land on their way to Austria; and later disbanded soldiers in defiance of Turkish authority plundered the country and committed nameless atrocities. Servia was to some extent protected by her remote location, but that very circumstance bred insubordination in the janissaries, who refused to obey the local Turkish governors and gave themselves up to looting, brigandage, and massacre. The national spirit of the subject races was completely crushed. The Servians and Bulgarians for three or four centuries lost all consciousness of a fatherland. The countrymen of Simeon and Dushan became {15} mere hewers of wood and drawers of water for their foreign masters. Servia and Bulgaria simply disappeared. As late as 1834 Kinglake in travelling to Constantinople from Belgrade must have passed straight across Bulgaria. Yet in "Eothen," in which he describes his travels, he never even mentions that country or its people. It is easy to understand that this history of Turkish horrors should have burned itself into the heart and soul of the resurrected Servia and Bulgaria of our own day. But there is another circumstance connected with the ruthless destruction and long entombment of these nationalities which it is difficult for foreigners, even the most intelligent foreigners, to understand or at any rate to grasp in its full significance. Yet the sentiments to which that circumstance has given rise and which it still nourishes are perhaps as potent a factor in contemporary Balkan politics as the antipathy of the Christian nations to their former Moslem oppressors. {16} GREEK ECCLESIASTICAL DOMINATION OF SLAVS I refer to the special and exceptional position held by the Greeks in the Turkish dominions. Though the Moslems had possessed themselves of the Greek Empire from the Bosphorus to the Danube, Greek domination still survived as an intellectual, ecclesiastical, and commercial force. The nature and effects of that supremacy, and its results upon the fortunes of other Balkan nations, we must now proceed to consider. The Turkish government classifies its subjects not on the basis of nationality but on the basis of religion. A homogeneous religious group is designated a millet or nation. Thus the Moslems form the millet of Islam. And at the present time there are among others a Greek millet, a Catholic millet, and a Jewish millet. But from the first days of the Ottoman conquest until very recent times all the Christian population, irrespective of denominational differences, was assigned by the Sultans to the {17} Greek millet, of which the patriarch of Constantinople was the head. The members of this millet were all called Greeks; the bishops and higher clergy were exclusively Greek; and the language of their churches and schools was Greek, which was also the language of literature, commerce, and polite society. But the jurisdiction of the patriarch was not restricted even to ecclesiastical and educational matters. It extended to a considerable part of civil law--notably to questions of marriage, divorce, and inheritance when they concerned Christians only. It is obvious that the possession by the Greek patriarch of Constantinople of this enormous power over the Christian subjects of the Turks enabled him to carry on a propaganda of hellenization. The disappearance for three centuries of the national consciousness in Servia and Bulgaria was not the sole work of the Moslem invader; a more fatal blight to the national languages and culture were the Greek bishops {18} and clergy who conducted their churches and schools. And if Kinglake knew nothing of Bulgaria as late as 1834 it was because every educated person in that country called himself a Greek. For it cannot be too strongly emphasized that until comparatively recent times all Christians of whatever nation or sect were officially recognized by the Turks as members of the Greek millet and were therefore designated Greeks. The hostility of the Slavonic peoples in the Balkans, and especially of the Bulgarians, to the Greeks, grows out of the ecclesiastical and educational domination which the Greek clergy and bishops so long and so relentlessly exercised over them. Of course the Turkish Sultans are responsible for the arrangement. But there is no evidence that they had any other intention than to rid themselves of a disagreeable task. For the rest they regarded Greeks and Slavs with equal contempt. But the Greeks quickly recognized the racial advantage of their {19} ecclesiastical hegemony. And it was not in human nature to give it up without a struggle. The patriarchate retained its exclusive jurisdiction over all orthodox populations till 1870, when the Sultan issued a firman establishing the Bulgarian exarchate. There were two other spheres in which Greek influence was paramount in the Turkish Empire. The Turk is a soldier and farmer; the Greek is pre-eminent as a trader, and his ability secured him a disproportionate share of the trade of the empire. Again, the Greeks of Constantinople and other large cities gradually won the confidence of the Turks and attained political importance. During the eighteenth century the highest officials in the empire were invariably Phanariots, as the Constantinople Greeks were termed from the quarter of the city in which they resided. In speaking of the Greeks I have not had in mind the inhabitants of the present kingdom of Greece. Their subjection by the Turks was as {20} complete as that of the Serbs and Bulgarians, though of course they were exempt from ecclesiastical domination at the hands of an alien clergy speaking a foreign language. The enmity of the Bulgarians may to-day be visited upon the subjects of King Constantine, but it was not their ancestors who imposed upon Bulgaria foreign schools and churches but the Greeks of Constantinople and Thrace, over whom the government of Athens has never had jurisdiction. SERVIAN INDEPENDENCE So much of the Balkan countries under Turkish rule. Their emancipation did not come till the nineteenth century. The first to throw off the yoke was Servia. Taking advantage of the disorganization and anarchy prevailing in the Ottoman Empire the Servian people rose in a body against their oppressors in January, 1804. Under the able leadership first of Kara-George and afterward of Milosh Obrenovich, Servian {21} autonomy was definitely established in 1817. The complete independence of the country was recognized by the Treaty of Berlin in 1878. The boundaries of the new state, however, fell far short of Servian aspirations, excluding as they did large numbers of the Servian population. The first ruling prince of modern Servia was Milosh Obrenovich; and the subsequent rulers have belonged either to the Obrenovich dynasty or to its rival the dynasty of Kara-George. King Peter, who came to the throne in 1903, is a member of the latter family. GREEK INDEPENDENCE Scarcely had Servia won her freedom when the Greek war of independence broke out. Archbishop Germanos called the Christian population of the Morea under the standard of the cross in 1821. For three years the Greeks, with the assistance of European money and volunteers (of whom Lord Byron was the most illustrious), conducted a successful campaign {22} against the Turkish forces; but after the Sultan had in 1824 summoned to his aid Mehemet Ali, Pasha of Egypt, with his powerful fleet and disciplined army, the laurels which the Greek patriots had won were recovered by the oppressor; and, with the recapture of Athens in May, 1827, the whole country once more lay under the dominion of the Turks. The Powers now recognized that nothing but intervention could save Greece for European civilization. The Egyptian fleet was annihilated at Navarino in October, 1828, by the fleets of England, France, and Russia. Greece was constituted an independent monarchy, though the Powers who recognized its independence traced the frontier of the emancipated country in a jealous and niggardly spirit. Prince Otto of Bavaria was designated the first King and reigned for thirty years. He was succeeded in 1863 by King George who lived to see the northern boundary of his kingdom advanced to Saloniki, where, like a faithful sentinel at his post, he fell, on {23} March 18, 1913, by the hand of an assassin just as he had attained the glorious fruition of a reign of fifty years. BULGARIAN INDEPENDENCE There had been a literary revival preceding the dawn of independence in Greece. In Bulgaria, which was the last of the Balkan states to become independent, the national regeneration was also fostered by a literary and educational movement, of which the founding of the first Bulgarian school--that of Gabrovo--in 1835 was undoubtedly the most important event. In the next five years more than fifty Bulgarian schools were established and five Bulgarian printing-presses set up. The Bulgarians were beginning to re-discover their own nationality. Bulgarian schools and books produced a reaction against Greek culture and the Greek clergy who maintained it. Not much longer would Greek remain the language of the upper classes in Bulgarian cities; not much {24} longer would ignorant peasants, who spoke only Bulgarian, call themselves Greek. The days of the spiritual domination of the Greek patriarchate were numbered. The ecclesiastical ascendency of the Greeks had crushed Bulgarian nationality more completely than even the civil power of the Turks. The abolition of the spiritual rule of foreigners and the restoration of the independent Bulgarian church became the leading object of the literary reformers, educators, and patriots. It was a long and arduous campaign--a campaign of education and awakening at home and of appeal and discussion in Constantinople. Finally the Sultan intervened and in 1870 issued a firman establishing the Bulgarian exarchate, conferring on it immediate jurisdiction over fifteen dioceses, and providing for the addition of other dioceses on a vote of two-thirds of their Christian population. The new Bulgarian exarch was immediately excommunicated by the Greek patriarch. But the first and most important official step had {25} been taken in the development of Bulgarian nationality. The revolt against the Turks followed in 1876. It was suppressed by acts of cruelty and horror unparalleled even in the Balkans. Many thousands of men, women, and children were massacred and scores of villages destroyed. I remember vividly--for I was then in England--how Gladstone's denunciation of those atrocities aroused a wave of moral indignation and wrath which swept furiously from one end of Great Britain to the other, and even aroused the governments and peoples of the Continent of Europe. The Porte refusing to adopt satisfactory measures of reform, Russia declared war and her victorious army advanced to the very gates of Constantinople. The Treaty of San Stefano, which Russia then enforced upon Turkey, created a "Big Bulgaria" that extended from the Black Sea to the Albanian Mountains and from the Danube to the Aegean, leaving to Turkey, however, Adrianople, Saloniki, and the {26} Chalcidician Peninsula. But this treaty was torn to pieces by the Powers, who feared that "Big Bulgaria" would become a mere Russian dependency, and they substituted for it the Treaty of Berlin. Under this memorable instrument, which dashed to the ground the racial and national aspirations of the Bulgarians which the Treaty of San Stefano had so completely satisfied, their country was restricted to a "tributary principality" lying between the Danube and the Balkans, Eastern Roumelia to the south being excluded from it and made an autonomous province of Turkey. This breach in the political life of the race was healed in 1885 by the union of Eastern Roumelia with Bulgaria; and the Ottoman sovereignty, which had become little more than a form, was completely ended in 1908 when the ruler of the enlarged principality of Bulgaria publicly proclaimed it an independent kingdom. In spite of a protest from the Porte the independence of Bulgaria was at once recognized by the Powers. {27} If Bulgaria owed the freedom with which the Treaty of Berlin dowered her to the swords, and also to the pens, of foreigners, her complete independence was her own achievement. But it was not brought about till a generation after the Treaty of Berlin had recognized the independence of Servia, Montenegro, and Roumania and delegated to Austria-Hungary the administration of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Yet the progress made by Bulgaria first under Prince Alexander and especially since 1887 under Prince Ferdinand (who subsequently assumed the title of King and later of Czar) is one of the most astonishing phenomena in the history of Modern Europe. THE BALKAN COUNTRIES Thus in consequence of the events we have here so hastily sketched Turkey had lost since the nineteenth century opened a large portion of the Balkan Peninsula. Along the Danube and the Save at the north Bulgaria and Servia had {28} become independent kingdoms and Bosnia and Herzegovina had at first practically and later formally been annexed to Austria-Hungary. At the extreme southern end of the Balkan Peninsula the Greeks had carved out an independent kingdom extending from Cape Matapan to the Vale of Tempe and the Gulf of Arta. All that remained of European Turkey was the territory lying between Greece and the Slav countries of Montenegro, Bosnia, Servia, and Bulgaria. The Porte has divided this domain into six provinces or vilayets, besides Constantinople and its environs. These vilayets are Scutari and Janina on the Adriatic; Kossovo and Monastir, adjoining them on the east; next Saloniki, embracing the centre of the area; and finally Adrianople, extending from the Mesta River to the Black Sea. In ordinary language the ancient classical names are generally used to designate these divisions. The vilayet of Adrianople roughly corresponds to Thrace, the Adriatic vilayets to Epirus, and the intervening {29} territory to Macedonia. Parts of the domain in question are, however, also known under other names. The district immediately south of Servia is often called Old Servia; and the Adriatic coast lands between Montenegro and Greece are generally designated Albania on the north and Epirus on the south. The area of Turkey in Europe in 1912 was 169,300 square kilometers; of Bulgaria 96,300; of Greece 64,600; of Servia 48,300; and of Montenegro 9,000. The population of European Turkey at the same date was 6,130,000; of Bulgaria 4,329,000; of Greece 2,632,000; of Servia 2,912,000; and of Montenegro 250,000. To the north of the Balkan states, with the Danube on the south and the Black Sea on the east, lay Roumania having an area of 131,350 square kilometers and a population of 7,070,000. {30} CAUSES OF THE FIRST BALKAN WAR What was the occasion of the war between Turkey and the Balkan states in 1912? The most general answer that can be given to that question is contained in the one word _Macedonia_. Geographically Macedonia lies between Greece, Servia, and Bulgaria. Ethnographically it is an extension of their races. And if, as Matthew Arnold declared, the primary impulse both of individuals and of nations is the tendency to expansion, Macedonia both in virtue of its location and of its population was fore-ordained to be a magnet to the emancipated Christian nations of the Balkans. Of course the expansion of Greeks and Slavs meant the expulsion of Turks. Hence the Macedonian question was the quintessence of the Near Eastern Question. But apart altogether from the expansionist ambitions and the racial sympathies of their kindred in Bulgaria, Servia, and Greece, the {31} population of Macedonia had the same right to emancipation from Turkish domination and oppression as their brethren in these neighboring states. The Moslems had forfeited their sovereign rights in Europe by their unutterable incapacity to govern their Christian subjects. Had the Treaty of Berlin sanctioned, instead of undoing, the Treaty of San Stefano, the whole of Macedonia would have come under Bulgarian sovereignty; and although Servia and especially Greece would have protested against the Bulgarian absorption of their Macedonian brethren (whom they had always hoped to bring under their own jurisdiction when the Turk was expelled) the result would certainly have been better for all the Christian inhabitants of Macedonia as well as for the Mohammedans (who number 800,000 persons or nearly one third of the entire population of Macedonia). As it was these people were all doomed to a continuation of Turkish misgovernment, oppression, and slaughter. The Treaty of Berlin {32} indeed provided for reforms, but the Porte through diplomacy and delay frustrated all the efforts of Europe to have them put into effect. For fifteen years the people waited for the fulfilment of the European promise of an amelioration of their condition, enduring meanwhile the scandalous misgovernment of Abdul Hamid II. But after 1893 revolutionary societies became active. The Internal Organization was a local body whose programme was "Macedonia for the Macedonians." But both in Bulgaria and in Greece there were organized societies which sent insurgent bands into Macedonia to maintain and assert their respective national interests. This was one of the causes of the war between Turkey and Greece in 1897, and the reverses of the Greeks in that war inured to the advantage of the Bulgarian propaganda in Macedonia. Servian bands soon after began to appear on the scene. These hostile activities in Macedonia naturally produced reprisals at the hands of the Turkish authorities. In one {33} district alone 100 villages were burned, over 8,000 houses destroyed, and 60,000 peasants left without homes at the beginning of winter. Meanwhile the Austrian and Russian governments intervened and drew up elaborate schemes of reform, but their plans could not be adequately enforced and the result was failure. The Austro-Russian entente came to an end in 1908, and in the same year England joined Russia in a project aiming at a better administration of justice and involving more effective European supervision. Scarcely had this programme been announced when the revolution under the Young Turk party broke out which promised to the world a regeneration of the Ottoman Empire. Hopeful of these constitutional reformers of Turkey, Europe withdrew from Macedonia and entrusted its destinies to its new master. Never was there a more bitter disappointment. If autocratic Sultans had punished the poor Macedonians with whips, the Young Turks flayed them with scorpions. {34} Sympathy, indignation, and horror conspired with nationalistic aspirations and territorial interests to arouse the kindred populations of the surrounding states. And in October, 1912, war was declared against Turkey by Bulgaria, Servia, Montenegro, and Greece. THE BALKAN LEAGUE This brings us to the so-called Balkan Alliance about which much has been written and many errors ignorantly propagated. For months after the outbreak of the war against Turkey the development of this Alliance into a Confederation of the Balkan states, on the model of the American or the German constitution, was a theme of constant discussion in Europe and America. As a matter of fact there existed no juridical ground for this expectation, and the sentiments of the peoples of the four Christian nations, even while they fought together against the Moslem, were saturated with such an infusion of suspicion {35} and hostility as to render nugatory any programme of Balkan confederation. An alliance had indeed been concluded between Greece and Bulgaria in May, 1912, but it was a defensive, not an offensive alliance. It provided that in case Turkey attacked either of these states, the other should come to its assistance with all its forces, and that whether the object of the attack were the territorial integrity of the nation or the rights guaranteed it by international law or special conventions. Without the knowledge of the Greek government, an offensive alliance against Turkey had in March, 1912, been concluded between Servia and Bulgaria which determined their respective military obligations in case of war and the partition between them, in the event of victory, of the conquered Turkish provinces in Europe. A similar offensive and defensive alliance between Greece and Turkey was under consideration, but before the plan was matured Bulgaria and Servia had decided to declare war against Turkey. This {36} decision had been hastened by the Turkish massacres at Kochana and Berane, which aroused the deepest indignation, especially in Bulgaria. Servia and Bulgaria informed Greece that in three days they would mobilize their forces for the purpose of imposing reforms on Turkey, and, if within a specified time they did not receive a satisfactory reply, they would invade the Ottoman territory and declare war. They invited Greece on this short notice to co-operate with them by a simultaneous mobilization. It was a critical moment not only for the little kingdom of King George, but for that great cause of Hellenism which for thousands of years had animated, and which still animated, the souls of the Greek population in all Aegean lands. GREECE AND THE LEAGUE King George himself was a ruler of large experience, of great practical wisdom, and of fine diplomatic skill. He had shortly before {37} selected as prime minister the former Cretan insurgent, Mr. Eleutherios Venizelos. It is significant that the new premier had also taken the War portfolio. He foresaw the impending conflict--as every wise statesman in Europe had foreseen it--and began to make preparations for it. For the reorganization of the army and navy he secured French and English experts, the former headed by General Eydoux, the latter by Admiral Tufnel. By 1914 it was estimated that the military and naval forces of the country would be thoroughly trained and equipped, and war was not expected before that date. But now in 1912 the hand of the Greek government was forced. And a decision one way or the other was inevitable. Mr. Venizelos had already proved himself an agitator, an orator, and a politician. He was now to reveal himself not only to Greece but to Europe as a wise statesman and an effective leader of his people. The first test came in his answer to the invitation to join Bulgaria and {38} Servia within three days in a war against Turkey. Of all possibilities open to him Mr. Venizelos rejected the programme of continued isolation for Greece. There were those who glorified it as splendid and majestic: to him under the existing circumstances it seemed stupid in itself and certain to prove disastrous in its results. Greece alone would never have been able to wage a war against Turkey. And if Greece declined to participate in the inevitable conflict, which the action of the two Slav states had only hastened, then whether they won or Turkey won, Greece was bound to lose. It was improbable that the Ottoman power should come out of the contest victorious; but, if the unexpected happened, what would be the position, not only of the millions of Greeks in the Turkish Empire, but of the little kingdom of Greece itself on whose northern boundary the insolent Moslem oppressor, flushed with his triumph over Bulgaria, Servia, and Montenegro, would be immovably entrenched? On the other {39} hand, if these Christian states themselves should succeed, as seemed likely, in destroying the Ottoman Empire in Europe, the Kingdom of Greece, if she now remained a passive spectator of their struggles, would find in the end that Macedonia had come into the possession of the victorious Slavs, and the Great Idea of the Greeks--the idea of expansion into Hellenic lands eastward toward Constantinople--exploded as an empty bubble. It was Mr. Venizelos's conclusion that Greece could not avoid participating in the struggle. Neutrality would have entailed the complete bankruptcy of Hellenism in the Orient. There remained only the alternative of co-operation--co-operation with Turkey or co-operation with the Christian states of the Balkans. GREEK AND BULGARIAN ANTIPATHIES How near Greece was to an alliance with Turkey the world may never know. At the time nothing of the sort was even suspected. It {40} was not until Turkey had been overpowered by the forces of the four Christian states and the attitude of Bulgaria toward the other three on the question of the division of the conquered territories had become irreconcilable and menacing that Mr. Venizelos felt it proper to communicate to the Greek people the history of the negotiations by which the Greek government had bound their country to a partner now felt to be so unreasonable and greedy. Feeling in Greece was running high against Bulgaria. The attacks on Mr. Venizelos's government were numerous and bitter. He was getting little or no credit for the victory that had been won against Turkey, while his opponents denounced him for sacrificing the fruits of that victory to Bulgaria. The Greek nation especially resented the occupation by Bulgarian troops of the Aegean coast lands with their large Hellenic population which lay between the Struma and the Mesta including the cities of Seres and Drama and especially Kavala with {41} its fine harbor and its hinterland famed for crops of choice tobacco. It was on the fourth of July, 1913, a few days after the outbreak of the war between Bulgaria and her late allies, that Mr. Venizelos made his defence in an eloquent and powerful speech at a special session of the Greek parliament. The accusation against him was not only that during the late war he had sacrificed Greek interests to Bulgaria but that he had committed a fatal blunder in joining her in the campaign against Turkey. His reply was that since Greece could not stand alone he had to seek allies in the Balkans, and that it was not his fault if the choice had fallen on Bulgaria. He had endeavored to maintain peace with Turkey. Listen to his own words: "I did not seek war against the Ottoman Empire. I would not have sought war at a later date if I could have obtained any adjustment of the Cretan question--that thorn in the side of Greece which can no longer be left as {42} it is without rendering a normal political life absolutely impossible for us. I endeavored to adjust this question, to continue the policy of a close understanding with the neighboring empire, in the hope of obtaining in this way the introduction of reforms which would render existence tolerable to the millions of Greeks within the Ottoman Empire." THE CRETAN PROBLEM It was this Cretan question, even more than the Macedonian question, which in 1897 had driven Greece, single-handed and unprepared, into a war with Turkey in which she was destined to meet speedy and overwhelming defeat. It was this same "accursed Cretan question," as Mr. Venizelos called it, which now drew the country into a military alliance against her Ottoman neighbor who, until too late, refused to make any concession either to the just claims of the Cretans or to the conciliatory proposals of the Greek government. {43} Lying midway between three continents, the island of Crete has played a large part both in ancient and modern history. The explorations and excavations of Sir Arthur Evans at Cnossus seem to prove that the Homeric civilization of Tiryns and Mycenae was derived from Crete, whose earliest remains carry us back three thousand years before the Christian era. And if Crete gave to ancient Greece her earliest civilization she has insisted on giving herself to modern Greece. It is a natural union; for the Cretans are Greeks, undiluted with Turk, Albanian, or Slav blood, though with some admixture of Italian. The one obstacle to this marriage of kindred souls has been Turkey. For Crete was taken from the Venetians by the Turks in 1669, after a twenty years' siege of Candia, the capital. A portion of the inhabitants embraced the creed of their conquerors, so that at the present time perhaps two-thirds of the population are Christian and one-third Moslem. The result has been to make Crete the {44} worst governed province of the Ottoman Empire. In Turkey in Europe diversity of race has kept the Christians quarreling with one another; in Crete diversity of religion plunges the same race into internecine war as often as once in ten years. The island had been the scene of chronic insurrections all through the nineteenth century. Each ended as a rule with a promise of the Sultan to confer upon the Cretans some form of local self-government, with additional privileges, financial or other. But these promises were never fulfilled. Things went from bad to worse. The military intervention of Greece in 1897 led to war with Turkey in which she was disastrously defeated. The European Powers had meantime intervened and they decided that Crete should be endowed with autonomy under the sovereignty of the Sultan, and in 1898 they appointed Prince George of Greece as High Commissioner. Between the political parties of the island and the representatives of the Powers {45} the Prince, who worked steadily for the welfare of Crete, had a difficult task, and in 1906 he withdrew, his successor being Mr. Zaimis, a former prime minister of Greece. The new commissioner was able to report to the protecting Powers in 1908 that a gendarmerie had been established, that tranquility was being maintained, and that the Moslem population enjoyed safety and security. Thereupon the Powers began to withdraw their forces from the island. And the project for annexation with Greece, which had been proclaimed by the Cretan insurgents under Mr. Venizelos in 1905 and which the insular assembly had hastened to endorse, was once more voted by the assembly, who went on to provide for the government of the island in the name of the King of Greece. I have not time to follow in detail the history of this programme of annexation. Suffice it to say that the Cretans ultimately went so far as to elect members to sit in the Greek parliament at Athens, and that Turkey had {46} given notice that their admission to the chamber would be regarded as a _casus belli_. I saw them on their arrival in Athens in October, 1912, where they received a most enthusiastic welcome from the Greeks, while everybody stopped to admire their picturesque dress, their superb physique, and their dignified demeanor. If Mr. Venizelos excluded these delegates from the chamber he would defy the sentiments of the Greek people. If he admitted them, Turkey would proclaim war. MR. VENIZELOS'S SOLUTION The course actually pursued by Mr. Venizelos in this predicament he himself explained to the parliament in the speech delivered at the close of the war against Turkey from which I have already quoted. He declared to his astonished countrymen that in his desire to reach a close understanding with Turkey he had arrived at the point where he no longer demanded a union of Crete with Greece, "knowing it was {47} too much for the Ottoman Empire." What he did ask for was the recognition of the right of the Cretan deputies to sit in the Greek chamber, while Crete itself should remain an autonomous state under the sovereignty of the Sultan. Nay, Mr. Venizelos was so anxious to prevent war with Turkey that he made another concession, for which, he frankly confessed, his political opponents if things had turned out differently would have impeached him for high treason. He actually proposed, in return for the recognition of the right of the Cretan deputies to sit in the Greek chamber, that Greece should pay on behalf of Crete an annual tribute to the Porte. Happily for Mr. Venizelos's government the Young Turk party who then governed the Ottoman Empire rejected all these proposals. Meanwhile their misgovernment and massacre of Christians in Macedonia were inflaming the kindred Slav nations and driving them into war against Turkey. When matters had {48} reached a crisis, the reactionary and incompetent Young Turk party were forced out of power and a wise and prudent statesman, the venerable Kiamil Pasha, succeeded to the office of Grand Vizier. He was all for conciliation and compromise with the Greek government, whom he had often warned against an alliance with Bulgaria, and he had in readiness a solution of the Cretan question which he was certain would be satisfactory to both Greece and Turkey. But these concessions were now too late. Greece had decided to throw in her lot with Servia and Bulgaria. And a decree was issued for the mobilization of the Greek troops. THE WAR There is not time, nor have I the qualifications, to describe the military operations which followed. In Greece the Crown Prince was appointed commanding general, and the event proved him one of the great captains of our day. The prime minister, who was also minister {49} of war, furnished him with troops and munitions and supplies. The plains and hills about Athens were turned into mock battlefields for the training of raw recruits; and young Greeks from all parts of the world--tens of thousands of them from America--poured in to protect the fatherland and to fight the secular enemy of Europe. The Greek government had undertaken to raise an army of 125,000 men to co-operate with the Allies; it was twice as large a number as even the friends of Greece dreamed possible; yet before the war closed King Constantine had under his banner an army of 250,000 men admirably armed, clothed, and equipped;--each soldier indeed having munitions fifty per cent in excess of the figure fixed by the general staff. GREEK MILITARY AND NAVAL OPERATIONS The Greek army, which had been concentrated at Larissa, entered Macedonia by the Meluna Pass and the valley of the Xerias River. {50} The Turks met the advancing force at Elassona, but retired after a few hours' fighting. They took their stand at the pass of Sarandaporon, from which they were driven by a day's hard fighting on the part of the Greek army and the masterly tactics of the Crown Prince. On October 23 the Greeks were in possession of Serfidje. Thence they pushed forward on both sides of the Aliakmon River toward Veria, which the Crown Prince entered with his staff on the morning of October 30. They had covered 150 miles from Larissa, with no facilities but wagons for feeding the army and supplying ammunition. But at Veria they struck the line of railway from Monastir to Saloniki. Not far away was Jenitsa, where the Turkish army numbering from 35,000 to 40,000 had concentrated to make a stand for the protection of Saloniki. The battle of Jenitsa was fiercely contested but the Greeks were victorious though they lost about 2000 men. This victory opened the way to Saloniki. The Turkish armies {51} which defended it having been scattered by the Greek forces, that city surrendered to Crown Prince Constantine on the eighth of November. It was only three weeks since the Greek army had left Larissa and it had disposed of about 60,000 Turks on the way. On the outbreak of war Greece had declared a blockade of all Turkish ports. To the usual list of contraband articles there were added not only coal, concerning which the practice of belligerent nations had varied, but also machine oil, which so far as I know was then for the first time declared contraband of war. As Turkey imported both coal and lubricants, the purpose of this policy was of course to paralyze transportation in the Ottoman Empire. Incidentally I may say the prohibition of lubricating oil caused much inconvenience to American commerce; not, however, primarily on its own account, but because of its confusion, in the minds of Greek officials, with such harmless substances as cotton seed oil and oleo. The {52} Greek navy not only maintained a very effective blockade but also took possession of all the Aegean Islands under Turkish rule, excepting Rhodes and the Dodecanese, which Italy held as a temporary pledge for the fulfilment by Turkey of some of the conditions of the treaty by which they had closed their recent war. It will be seen, therefore, that the navy was a most important agent in the campaign, and Greece was the only one of the Allies that had a navy. The Greek navy was sufficient not only to terrorize the Turkish navy, which it reduced to complete impotence, but also to paralyze Turkish trade and commerce with the outside world, to embarrass railway transportation within the Empire, to prevent the sending of reinforcements to Macedonia or the Aegean coast of Thrace, and to detach from Turkey those Aegean Islands over which she still exercised effective jurisdiction. {53} SERB MILITARY OPERATIONS On land the other Allies had been not less active than Greece. Montenegro had fired the first shot of the war. And the brave soldiers of King Nicholas, the illustrious ruler of the one Balkan state which the Turks had never conquered, were dealing deadly blows to their secular enemy both in Novi Bazar and Albania. As the Greeks had pressed into southern Macedonia, so the Servian armies advanced through old Servia into northern and central Macedonia. In their great victory over the Turkish forces at Kumanovo they avenged the defeat of their ancestors at Kossovo five hundred years before. Still marching southward they again defeated the enemy in two great engagements, the one at Prilip and the other at Monastir. The latter city had been the object of the Greek advance to Fiorina, but when the prize fell to Servia, though the Greeks were disappointed, it made no breach in the friendship {54} of the two Allies. Already no doubt they were both gratified that the spheres of their military occupation were conterminous and that no Turkish territory remained for Bulgaria to occupy west of the Vardar River. BULGARIAN MILITARY OPERATIONS While Greece and Servia were scattering, capturing, or destroying the Turkish troops stationed in Macedonia, and closing in on that province from north and south like an irresistible vise, it fell to Bulgaria to meet the enemy's main army in the plains of Eastern Thrace. The distribution of the forces of the Allies was the natural result of their respective geographical location. Macedonia to the west of the Vardar and Bregalnitza Rivers was the only part of Turkey which adjoined Greece and Servia. Thrace, on the other hand, marched with the southern boundary of Bulgaria from the sources of the Mesta River to the Black Sea, and its eastern half was intersected {55} diagonally by the main road from Sofia to Adrianople and Constantinople. Along this line the Bulgarians sent their forces against the common enemy as soon as war was declared. The swift story of their military exploits, the record of their brilliant victories, struck Europe with amazement. Here was a country which only thirty-five years earlier had been an unknown and despised province of Turkey in Europe now overwhelming the armies of the Ottoman Empire in the great victories of Kirk Kilisse, Lule Burgas, and Chorlu. In a few weeks the irresistible troops of King Ferdinand had reached the Chataldja line of fortifications. Only twenty-five miles beyond lay Constantinople where they hoped to celebrate their final triumph. THE COLLAPSE OF TURKEY The Great Powers of Europe had other views. Even if the Bulgarian delay at Chataldja--a delay probably due to {56} exhaustion--had not given the Turks time to strengthen their defences and reorganize their forces, it is practically certain that the Bulgarian army would not have been permitted to enter Constantinople. But with the exception of the capital and its fortified fringe, all Turkey in Europe now lay at the mercy of the Allies. The entire territory was either already occupied by their troops or could be occupied at leisure. Only at three isolated points was the Ottoman power unsubdued. The city of Adrianople, though closely besieged by the Bulgarians, still held out, and the great fortresses of Scutari in Northern Albania and Janina in Epirus remained in the hands of their Turkish garrisons. The power of Turkey had collapsed in a few weeks. Whether the ruin was due to inefficiency and corruption in government or the injection by the Young Turk party of politics into the army or exhaustion resulting from the recent war with Italy or to other causes more obscure, {57} we need not pause to inquire. The disaster itself, however, had spread far enough in the opinion of Europe, and a Peace Conference was summoned in December. Delegates from the belligerent states and ambassadors from the Great Powers came together in London. But their labors in the cause of peace proved unavailing. Turkey was unwilling to surrender Adrianople and Bulgaria insisted on it as a _sine qua non_. The Peace Conference broke up and hostilities were resumed. The siege of Adrianople was pressed by the Bulgarians with the aid of 60,000 Servian troops. It was taken by storm on March 26. Already, on March 6, Janina had yielded to the well directed attacks of King Constantine. And the fighting ended with the spectacular surrender on April 23 of Scutari to King Nicholas, who for a day at least defied the united will of Europe. Turkey was finally compelled to accept terms of peace. In January, while the London Peace Conference was still in session, Kiamil Pasha, {58} who had endeavored to prepare the nation for the territorial sacrifice he had all along recognized as inevitable, was driven from power and his war minister, Nazim Pasha, murdered through an uprising of the Young Turk party executed by Enver Bey, who himself demanded the resignation of Kiamil and carried it to the Sultan and secured its acceptance. The insurgents set up Mahmud Shevket Pasha as Grand Vizier and made the retention of Adrianople their cardinal policy. But the same inexorable fate overtook the new government in April as faced Kiamil in January. The Powers were insistent on peace, and the successes of the Allies left no alternative and no excuse for delay. The Young Turk party who had come to power on the Adrianople issue were accordingly compelled to ratify the cession to the allies of the city with all its mosques and tombs and historic souvenirs. The Treaty of London, which proved to be short-lived, was signed on May 30. {59} THE TERMS OF PEACE The treaty of peace provided that beyond a line drawn from Enos near the mouth of the Maritza River on the Aegean Sea to Midia on the coast of the Black Sea all Turkey should be ceded to the Allies except Albania, whose boundaries were to be fixed by the Great Powers. It was also stipulated that the Great Powers should determine the destiny of the Aegean Islands belonging to Turkey which Greece now claimed by right of military occupation and the vote of their inhabitants (nearly all of whom were Greek). A more direct concession to Greece was the withdrawal of Turkish sovereignty over Crete. The treaty also contained financial and other provisions, but they do not concern us here. The essential point is that, with the exception of Constantinople and a narrow hinterland for its protection, the Moslems after more than five centuries of possession had been driven out of Europe. {60} This great and memorable consummation was the achievement of the united nations of the Balkans. It was not a happy augury for the immediate future to recall the historic fact that the past successes of the Moslems had been due to dissensions and divisions among their Christian neighbors. {61} II THE WAR BETWEEN THE ALLIES [Illustration: Map showing the Turkish Territories occupied by the Armies of Bulgaria, Greece, Montenegro, and Servia at the close of the War against Turkey.] {63} II THE WAR BETWEEN THE ALLIES The Treaty of London officially eliminated Turkey from the further settlement of the Balkan question. Thanks to the good will of the Great Powers toward herself or to their rising jealousy of Bulgaria she was not stripped of her entire European possessions west of the Chataldja lines where the victorious Bulgarians had planted their standards. The Enos-Midia frontier not only guaranteed to her a considerable portion of territory which the Bulgarians had occupied but extended her coast line, from the point where the Chataldja lines strike the Sea of Marmora, out through the Dardanelles and along the Aegean littoral to the mouth of the Maritza River. To that extent the Great Powers may be said to have re-established the {64} Turks once more in Europe from which they had been practically driven by the Balkan Allies, and especially the Bulgarians. All the rest of her European possessions, however, Turkey was forced to surrender either in trust to the Great Powers or absolutely to the Balkan Allies. The great question now was how the Allies should divide among themselves the spoils of war. RIVAL AMBITIONS OF THE ALLIES This was a difficult matter to adjust. Before the war began, as we have already seen, a Treaty of Partition had been negotiated between Bulgaria and Servia, but conditions had changed materially in the interval and Servia now demanded a revision of the treaty and refused to withdraw her troops from Central Macedonia, which the treaty had marked for reversion to Bulgaria. In consequence the relations between the governments and peoples of {65} Servia and Bulgaria were dangerously strained. The Bulgarians denounced the Servians as perfidious and faithless and the Servians responded by excoriating the colossal greed and intolerance of the Bulgarians. The immemorial mutual hatred of the two Slav nations was stirred to its lowest depths, and it boiled and sputtered like a witches' cauldron. In Eastern Macedonia Bulgarians and Greeks were each eagerly pushing their respective spheres of occupation without much regard to the rights or feeling of the other Ally. Though the Bulgarians had not forgiven the Greeks for anticipating them in the capture of Saloniki in the month of November, the rivalry between them in the following winter and spring had for its stage the territory between the Struma and the Mesta Rivers--and especially the quadrilateral marked by Kavala and Orphani on the coast and Seres and Drama on the line of railway from Saloniki to Adrianople. The Greeks had one advantage over the Bulgarians: {66} their troops could be employed to secure extensions of territory for the Hellenic kingdom at a time when Bulgaria still needed the bulk of her forces to fight the Turks at Chataldja and Adrianople. Hence the Greeks occupied towns in the district from which Bulgarian troops had been recalled. Nor did they hesitate to dislodge scattered Bulgarian troops which their ally had left behind to establish a claim of occupation. Naturally disputes arose between the military commanders and these led to repeated armed encounters. On March 5 Greeks and Bulgarians fought at Nigrita as they subsequently fought at Pravishta, Leftera, Panghaion, and Anghista. This conduct of the Allies toward one another while the common enemy was still in the field boded ill for their future relations. "Our next war will be with Bulgaria," said the man on the street in Athens, and this bellicose sentiment was reciprocated alike by the Bulgarian people and the Bulgarian army. The {67} secular mutual enmities and animosities of the Greeks and Bulgarians, which self-interest had suppressed long enough to enable the Balkan Allies to make European Turkey their own, burst forth with redoubled violence under the stimulus of the imperious demand which the occasion now made upon them all for an equitable distribution of the conquered territory. For ages the fatal vice of the Balkan nations has been the immoderate and intolerant assertion by each of its own claims coupled with contemptuous disregard of the rights of others. ALBANIA A CAUSE OF FRICTION There were also external causes which contributed to the deepening tragedy in the Balkans. Undoubtedly the most potent was the dislocation of the plans of the Allies by the creation of an independent Albania. This new kingdom was called into being by the voice of the European concert at the demand of Austria-Hungary supported by Italy. {68} The controlling force in politics, though not the only force, is self-interest. Austria-Hungary had long sought an outlet through Macedonia to the Aegean by way of Saloniki. It was also the aim of Servia to reach the Adriatic. But the foreign policy of Austria-Hungary, which has millions of Serbs under its dominion, has steadily opposed the aggrandizement of Servia. And now that Servia and her allies had taken possession of Macedonia and blocked the path of Austria-Hungary to Saloniki, it was not merely revenge, it was self-interest pursuing a consistent foreign policy, which moved the Dual Monarchy to make the cardinal feature of its Balkan programme the exclusion of Servia from access to the Adriatic Sea. Before the first Balkan war began the Adriatic littoral was under the dominion of Austria-Hungary and Italy, for though Montenegro and European Turkey were their maritime neighbors neither of them had any naval strength. Naturally {69} these two dominant powers desired that after the close of the Balkan war they should not be in a worse position in the Adriatic than heretofore. But if Servia were allowed to expand westward to the Adriatic, their supremacy might in the future be challenged. For Servia might enter into special relations with her great sister Slav state, Russia, or a confederation might be formed embracing all the Balkan states between the Black Sea and the Adriatic: and, in either event, Austria-Hungary and Italy would no longer enjoy the unchallenged supremacy on the Adriatic coasts which was theirs so long as Turkey held dominion over the maritime country lying between Greece and Montenegro. As a necessity of practical politics, therefore, there emerged the Austro-Italian policy of an independent Albania. But natural and essential as this policy was for Italy and Austria-Hungary, it was fatal to Servia's dream of expansion to the Adriatic; it set narrow limits to the northward extension of {70} Greece into Epirus, and the southward extension of Montenegro below Scutari; it impelled these Allies to seek compensation in territory that Bulgaria had regarded as her peculiar preserve; and as a consequence it seriously menaced the existence of the Balkan Alliance torn as it already was by mutual jealousies, enmities, aggressions, and recriminations. RECOIL OF SERVIA TOWARD THE AEGEAN The first effect of the European fiat regarding an independent Albania was the recoil of Servia against Bulgaria. Confronted by the _force majeure_ of the Great Powers which stopped her advance to the Adriatic, Servia turned her anxious regard toward the Gulf of Saloniki and the Aegean Sea. Already her victorious armies had occupied Macedonia from the Albanian frontier eastward beyond the Vardar River to Strumnitza, Istib, and Kochana, and southward below Monastir and Ghevgheli, where they touched the boundary of the {71} Greek occupation of Southern Macedonia. An agreement with the Greeks, who held the city of Saloniki and its hinterland as well as the whole Chalcidician Peninsula, would ensure Servia an outlet to the sea. And the merchants of Saloniki--mostly the descendants of Jews expelled from Spain in the fifteenth century--were shrewd enough to recognize the advantage to their city of securing the commerce of Servia, especially as they were destined to lose, in consequence of hostile tariffs certain to be established by the conquerors, a considerable portion of the trade which had formerly flowed to them without let or hindrance from a large section of European Turkey. The government of Greece was equally favorably disposed to this programme; for, in the first place, it was to its interest to cultivate friendly relations with Servia, in view of possible embroilments with Bulgaria; and, in the second place, it had to countercheck the game of those who wanted either to make Saloniki a free city or to {72} incorporate it in a Big Bulgaria, and who were using with some effect the argument that the annexation of the city to Greece meant the throttling of its trade and the annihilation of its prosperity. The interests of the city of Saloniki, the interests of Greece, and the interests of Servia all combined to demand the free flow of Servian trade by way of Saloniki. And if no other power obtained jurisdiction over any Macedonian territory through which that trade passed, it would be easy for the Greek and Servian governments to come to an understanding. TREATY RESTRICTIONS Just here, however, was the rub. The secret treaty of March, 1912, providing for the offensive and defensive alliance of Bulgaria and Servia against the Ottoman Empire regulated, in case of victory, the division of the conquered territory between the Allies. And the extreme limit, on the south and east, of Turkish territory {73} assigned to Servia by this treaty was fixed by a line starting from Ochrida on the borders of Albania and running northeastward across the Vardar River a few miles above Veles and thence, following the same general direction, through Ovcepolje and Egri Palanka to Golema Vreh on the frontier of Bulgaria--a terminus some twenty miles southeast of the meeting point of Servia, Macedonia, and Bulgaria. During the war with Turkey the Servian armies had paid no attention to the Ochrida-Golema Vreh line. The great victory over the Turks at Kumanovo, by which the Slav defeat at Kossovo five hundred years earlier was avenged, was, it is true, won at a point north of the line in question. But the subsequent victories of Prilip and Monastir were gained to the south of it--far, indeed, into the heart of the Macedonian territory recognized by the treaty as Bulgarian. If you look at a map you will see that the boundary between Servia and Bulgaria, starting {74} from the Danube, runs in a slightly undulating line due south. Now what the military forces of King Peter did during the war of the Balkan states with the Ottoman Empire was to occupy all European Turkey south of Servia between the prolongation of that boundary line and the new Kingdom of Albania till they met the Hellenic army advancing northward under Crown Prince Constantine, when the two governments agreed on a common boundary for New Servia and New Greece along a line starting from Lake Presba and running eastward between Monastir and Fiorina to the Vardar River a little to the south of Ghevgheli. THE APPLE OF DISCORD But this arrangement between Greece and Servia would leave no territory for Bulgaria in Central and Western Macedonia! Yet Servia had solemnly bound herself by treaty not to ask for any Turkish territory below the Ochrida-Golema Vreh line. There was no {75} similar treaty with Greece, but Bulgaria regarded the northern frontier of New Greece as a matter for adjustment between the two governments. Servia, withdrawn behind the Ochrida-Golema Vreh line in accordance with the terms of the treaty, would at any rate have nothing to say about the matter. And, although the Bulgarian government never communicated, officially or unofficially, its own views to Greece or Servia, I believe we should not make much mistake in asserting that a line drawn from Ochrida to Saloniki (which Bulgaria in spite of the Greek occupation continued to claim) would roughly represent the limit of its voluntary concession. Now if you imagine a base line drawn from Saloniki to Goletna Vreh, you have an equilateral triangle resting on Ochrida as apex. And this equilateral triangle represents approximately what Bulgaria claimed in the western half of Macedonia as her own. The war between the Allies was fought over the possession of this triangle. The larger {76} portion of it had in the war against Turkey been occupied by the forces of Servia; and the nation, inflamed by the military spirit of the army, had made up its mind that, treaty or no treaty, it should not be evacuated. On the south, especially above Vodena, the Greeks had occupied a section of the fatal triangle. And the two governments had decided that they would not tolerate the driving of a Bulgarian wedge between New Servia and New Greece. Bulgaria, on the other hand, was inexorable in her demands on Servia for the fulfilment of the terms of the Treaty of Partition. At the same time she worried the Greek government about the future of Saloniki, and that at a time when the Greek people were criticizing Mr. Venizelos for having allowed the Bulgarians to occupy regions in Macedonia and Thrace inhabited by Greeks, notably Seres, Drama, and Kavala, and the adjacent country between the Struma and the Mesta. These were additional causes of dissension between the Allies. But the primary {77} disruptive force was the attraction, the incompatible attraction, exerted on them all by that central Macedonian triangle whose apex rested on the ruins of Czar Samuel's palace at Ochrida and whose base extended from Saloniki to Golema Vreh. THE CLAIM OF BULGARIA From that base line to the Black Sea nearly all European Turkey (with the exception of the Chalcidician Peninsula, including Saloniki and its hinterland) had been occupied by the military forces of Bulgaria. Why then was Bulgaria so insistent on getting beyond that base line, crossing the Vardar, and possessing herself of Central Macedonia up to Ochrida and the eastern frontier of Albania? The answer, in brief, is that it has been the undeviating policy of Bulgaria, ever since her own emancipation by Russia in 1877, to free the Bulgarians still under the Ottoman yoke and unite them in a common fatherland. The {78} Great Bulgaria which was created by Russia in the treaty she forced on Turkey--the Treaty of San Stefano--was constructed under the influence of the idea of a union of the Bulgarian race in a single state under a common government. This treaty was afterward torn to pieces by the Congress of Berlin, which set up for the Bulgarians a very diminutive principality. But the Bulgarians, from the palace down to the meanest hut, have always been animated by that racial and national idea. The annexation of Eastern Roumelia in 1885 was a great step in the direction of its realization. And it was to carry that programme to completion that Bulgaria made war against Turkey in 1912. Her primary object was the liberation of the Bulgarians in Macedonia and their incorporation in a Great Bulgaria. And the Treaty of Partition with Servia seemed, in the event of victory over Turkey, to afford a guarantee of the accomplishment of her long-cherished purpose. It was a strange irony of {79} fate that while as a result of the geographical situation of the belligerents Bulgaria, at the close of the war with Turkey, found herself in actual occupation of all European Turkey from the Black Sea up to the River Struma and beyond,--that is, all Thrace to Chataldja as well as Eastern Macedonia--her allies were in possession of the bulk of Macedonia, including the entire triangle she had planned to inject between the frontiers of New Servia and New Greece! The Bulgarians claimed this triangle on ethnological grounds. Its inhabitants, they asseverated, were their brethren, as genuinely Bulgarian as the subjects of King Ferdinand. RACIAL PROPAGANDA IN MACEDONIA Of all perplexing subjects in the world few can be more baffling than the distribution of races in Macedonia. The Turks classify the population, not by language or by physical characteristics, but by religion. A Greek is a member of the Orthodox Church who {80} recognizes the patriarch of Constantinople; a Bulgarian, on the other hand, is one of the same religious faith who recognizes the exarch; and since the Servians in Turkey have no independent church but recognize the patriarchate they are often, as opposed to Bulgarians, called Greeks. Race, being thus merged in religion--in something that rests on the human will and not on physical characteristics fixed by nature--can in that part of the world be changed as easily as religion. A Macedonian may be a Greek to-day, a Bulgarian to-morrow, and a Servian next day. We have all heard of the captain in the comic opera who "in spite of all temptations to belong to other nations" remained an Englishman. There would have been nothing comic in this assertion had the redoubtable captain lived in Macedonia. In that land a race is a political party composed of members with common customs and religion who stand for a "national idea" which they strenuously endeavor to force on others. {81} Macedonia is the land of such racial propaganda. As the Turkish government forbids public meetings for political purposes, the propaganda takes an ecclesiastical and linguistic form. Each "race" seeks to convert the people to its faith by the agency of schools and churches, which teach and use its own language. Up to the middle of the nineteenth century the Greeks, owing to their privileged ecclesiastical position in the Ottoman Empire, had exclusive spiritual and educational jurisdiction over the members of the Orthodox Church in Macedonia. The opposition of the Bulgarians led, as we have already seen, to the establishment in 1870 of the exarchate, that is, of an independent Bulgarian Orthodox Church with the exarch at its head. The Bulgarian propaganda in Macedonia demanded the appointment of bishops to conduct churches and schools under the authority of the exarchate. In 1891 the Porte conceded Bulgarian bishops to Ochrida and Uskub, in 1894 to Veles and Nevrokop, {82} and in 1898 to Monastir, Strumnitza, and Dibra. As has been well said, the church of the exarchate was really occupied in creating Bulgarians: it offered to the Slavonic population of Macedonia services and schools conducted in a language which they understood and showed a genuine interest in their education. By 1900 Macedonia had 785 Bulgarian schools, 39,892 pupils, and 1,250 teachers. The Servian propaganda in Macedonia was at a disadvantage in comparison with the Bulgarian because it had not a separate ecclesiastical organization. As we have already seen, the orthodox Serbs owe allegiance to the Greek patriarch in Constantinople. And at first they did not push their propaganda as zealously or as successfully as the Bulgarians. In fact the national aspirations of the people of Servia had been in the direction of Bosnia and Herzegovina; but after these provinces were assigned to Austria by the Treaty of Berlin, a marked {83} change of attitude occurred in the Servian government and nation. They now claimed as Servian the Slavonic population of Macedonia which hitherto Bulgaria had cultivated as her own. The course of politics in Bulgaria, notably her embroilment with Russia, inured to the advantage of the Servian propaganda in Macedonia, which after 1890 made great headway. The Servian government made liberal contributions for Macedonian schools. And before the nineteenth century closed the Servian propaganda could claim 178 schools in the vilayets of Saloniki and Monastir and in Uskub with 321 teachers and 7,200 pupils. These Slav propagandists made serious encroachments upon the Greek cause, which, only a generation earlier, had possessed a practical monopoly in Macedonia. Greek efforts too were for a time almost paralyzed in consequence of the disastrous issue of the Greco-Turkish war in 1897. Nevertheless in 1901 the Greeks claimed 927 schools in the vilayets of {84} Saloniki and Monastir with 1,397 teachers and 57,607 pupils. RACIAL FACTS AND FALLACIES The more bishops, churches, and schools a nationality could show, the stronger its claim on the reversion of Macedonia when the Turk should be driven out of Europe! There was no doubt much juggling with statistics. And though schools and churches were provided by Greeks, Servians, and Bulgarians to satisfy the spiritual and intellectual needs of their kinsmen in Macedonia, there was always the ulterior (which was generally the dominant) object of staking out claims in the domain soon to drop from the paralyzed hand of the Turk. The bishops may have been good shepherds of their flocks, but the primary qualification for the office was, I imagine, the gift of aggressive political leadership. The Turkish government now favored one nationality and now another as the interests of the moment seemed {85} to suggest. With an impish delight in playing off Slav against Greek and Servian against Bulgarian, its action on applications for bishoprics was generally taken with a view to embarrassing the rival Christian nationalities. And it could when necessary keep the propagandists within severe limits. The Bulgarians grew bold after securing so many bishoprics in the nineties and the bishop at Uskub thought to open new schools and churches. But the Turkish governor--the Vali--summoned him and delivered this warning: "O Bulgarian, sit upon the eggs you have, and do not burst your belly by trying to lay more." How are we to determine the racial complexion of a country in which race is certified by religion, in which religion is measured by the number of bishops and churches and schools, in which bishops and churches and schools are created and maintained by a propaganda conducted by competing external powers, and in which the results of the propaganda {86} are determined largely by money and men sent from Sofia, Athens, and Belgrade, subject always to the caprice and manipulation of the Sultan's government at Constantinople? In Southern Macedonia from the Thessalian frontier as far north as the parallel of Saloniki, the population is almost exclusively Greek, as is also the whole of the Chalcidician Peninsula, while further east the coast region between the Struma and the Mesta is also predominantly Greek. Eastern Macedonia to the north of the line of Seres and Drama and south of the Kingdom of Bulgaria is generally Bulgarian. On the northwest from the city of Uskub up to the confines of Servia and Bosnia, Macedonia is mixed Serb, Bulgarian, and Albanian, with the Serb element preponderating as you travel northward and the Albanian westward. {87} PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS AND EXPERIENCES The difficulty comes when we attempt to give the racial character of Central Macedonia, which is equally remote from Greece, Bulgaria, and Servia. I travelled through this district last summer. On June 29, when the war broke out between the Allies I found myself in Uskub. Through the courtesy of the Servian authorities I was permitted to ride on the first military train which left the city. Descending at Veles I drove across Central Macedonia by way of Prilip to Monastir, spending the first night, for lack of a better bed, in the carriage, which was guarded by Servian sentries. From Monastir I motored over execrable roads to Lake Presba and Lake Ochrida and thence beyond the city of Ochrida to Struga on the Black Drin, from which I looked out on the mountains of Albania. Coming from Athens where for many months I had listened to patriotic stories of {88} the thorough permeation of Macedonia by Greek settlements my first surprise was my inability to discover a Greek majority in Central Macedonia. In most of the cities a fraction of the population indeed is Greek and as a rule the colony is prosperous. This is especially true in Monastir, which is a stronghold of Greek influence. But while half the population of Monastir is Mohammedan the so-called Bulgarians form the majority of the Christian population, though both Servians and Roumanians have conducted energetic propaganda. In Veles two-thirds of the population are Christians and nearly all of these are called Bulgarians. In Ochrida the lower town is Mohammedan and the upper Christian, and the Christian population is almost exclusively of the Bulgarian Church. It does not follow, however, that the people of Central Macedonia, even if Bulgarian churches are in the ascendant among them, are really connected by ties of blood and language {89} with Bulgaria rather than with Servia. If history is invoked we shall have to admit that under Dushan this region was a part of the Serb empire as under Simeon and Asen it was part of the Bulgarian. If an appeal is made to anthropology the answer is still uncertain. For while the Mongolian features--broad flat faces, narrow eyes, and straight black hair--which characterize the subjects of King Ferdinand can be seen--I myself have seen them--as far west as Ochrida, they may also be found all over Northern Servia as far as Belgrade though the Servian physical type is entirely different. There is no fixed connection between the anthropological unit and the linguistic or political unit. Furthermore, while there are well-marked groups who call themselves Serbs or Bulgarians there is a larger population not so clearly differentiated by physique or language. Undoubtedly they are Slavs. But whether Serb or Bulgarian, or intermediate between the two, no one to-day can demonstrate. Central {90} Macedonia has its own dialects, any one of which under happy literary auspices might have developed into a separate language. And the men who speak them to-day can more or less understand either Servian or Bulgarian. Hence as the anonymous and highly authoritative author of "Turkey in Europe," who calls himself Odysseus, declares: "The practical conclusion is that neither Greeks, Servians, nor Bulgarians have a right to claim Central Macedonia. The fact that they all do so shows how weak each claim must be." Yet it was Bulgaria's intransigent assertion of her claim to Central Macedonia which led to the war between the Allies. It will be instructive to consider the attitude of each of the governments concerned on the eve of the conflict. I hope I am in a position correctly to report it. Certainly I had unusual opportunities to learn it. For besides the official position I held in Athens during the entire course of both Balkan wars I visited the {91} Balkan states in June and was accorded the privilege of discussing the then pending crisis with the prime ministers of Roumania, Servia, and Bulgaria. It would of course be improper to quote them; nay more, I feel myself under special obligation sacredly to respect the confidence they reposed in me. But the frank disclosures they made in these conversations gave me a point of view for the comprehension of the situation and the estimate of facts which I have found simply invaluable. And if Mr. Venizelos in Athens, or Mr. Maioresco in Bukarest, or Mr. Pashitch in Belgrade, or Dr. Daneff, who is no longer prime minister of Bulgaria, should ever chance to read what I am saying, I hope each will feel that I have fairly and impartially presented the attitude which their respective governments had taken at this critical moment on the vital issue then confronting them. {92} THE ATTITUDE OF SERVIA I have already indicated the situation of Servia. Compelled by the Great Powers to withdraw her troops from Albania, after they had triumphantly made their way to the Adriatic, she was now requested by Bulgaria to evacuate Central Macedonia up to the Ochrida-Golema Vreh line in accordance with the terms of the treaty between the two countries which was ratified in March, 1912. The Servian government believed that for the loss of Albania, which the treaty assumed would be annexed to Servia, they were entitled to compensation in Macedonia. And if now, instead of compensation for the loss of an outlet on the Adriatic, they were to withdraw their forces from Central Macedonia and allow Bulgaria to establish herself between New Servia and New Greece, they would block their own way to Saloniki, which was the only prospect now left of a Servian outlet to the sea. Nor was this the whole {93} story by any means. The army, which comprised all able-bodied Servians, was in possession of Central Macedonia; and the military leaders, with the usual professional bias in favor of imperialism, dictated their expansionist views to the government at Belgrade. If Bulgaria would not voluntarily grant compensation for the loss of Albania, the Servian people were ready to take it by force. They had also a direct claim against Bulgaria. They had sent 60,000 soldiers to the siege of Adrianople, which the Bulgarians had hitherto failed to capture. And the Servians were now asking, in bitter irony, whether they had gone to war solely for the benefit of Bulgaria; whether besides helping her to win all Thrace and Eastern Macedonia they were now to present her with Central Macedonia, and that at a time when the European Concert had stripped them of the expected prize of Albania with its much desired Adriatic littoral! This argument was graphically presented on a map of which I secured a {94} copy in Belgrade. The legend on this map reads as follows: "Territories occupied by Servia 55,000 square miles. Servia cedes to her allies in the east and south 3,800 square miles. Servia cedes to Albania 15,200 square miles. Servia retains 36,000 square miles. Territories occupied by Bulgaria to Enos-Midia, 51,200 square miles. The Bulgarians demand from the Servians still 10,240 square miles. According to Bulgarian pretensions Bulgaria should get 61,520 square miles and Servia only 25,760!" PROPOSED REVISION OF TREATY AND ARBITRATION When the treaty between Servia and Bulgaria was negotiated, it seems to have been assumed that the theatre of a war with Turkey would be Macedonia and that Thrace--the country from the Mesta to the Black Sea--would remain intact to Turkey. And if the rest of Turkey in Europe up to the Adriatic {95} were conquered by the two Allies, the Ochrida-Golema Vreh line would make a fairly equitable division between them of the spoils of war. But with Albania denied to Servia and Thrace occupied by Bulgaria, conditions had wholly changed. The Servian government declared that the changed conditions had abrogated the Treaty of Partition and that it was for the two governments now to adjust themselves to the logic of events! On May 28 Mr. Pashitch, the Servian prime minister, formally demanded a revision of the treaty. A personal interview with the Bulgarian prime minister, Mr. Gueshoff, followed on June 2 at Tsaribrod. And Mr. Gueshoff accepted Mr. Pashitch's suggestion (which originated with Mr. Venizelos, the Greek prime minister) of a conference of representatives of the four Allies at St. Petersburg. For it should be added that, in the Treaty of Partition, the Czar had been named as arbiter in case of any territorial dispute between the two parties. {96} What followed in the next few days has never been clearly disclosed. But it was of transcendent importance. I have always thought that if Mr. Gueshoff, one of the authors of the Balkan Alliance, had been allowed like Mr. Venizelos and Mr. Pashitch, to finish his work, there would have been no war between the Allies. I did not enjoy the personal acquaintance of Mr. Gueshoff, but I regarded him as a wise statesman of moderate views, who was disposed to make reasonable concessions for the sake of peace. But a whole nation in arms, flushed with the sense of victory, is always dangerous to the authority of civil government. If Mr. Gueshoff was ready to arrange some accommodation with Mr. Pashitch, the military party in Bulgaria was all the more insistent in its demands on Servia for the evacuation of Central Macedonia. Even in Servia Mr. Pashitch had great difficulty in repressing the jingo ardor of the army, whose bellicose spirit was believed to find expression in the attitude {97} of the Crown Prince. But the provocation in Bulgaria was greater, because, when all was said and done, Servia was actually violating an agreement with Bulgaria to which she had solemnly set her name. Possibly the military party gained the ear of King Ferdinand. Certainly it was reported that he was consulting with leaders of the opposition. Presumably they were all dissatisfied with the conciliatory attitude which Mr. Gueshoff had shown in the Tsaribrod conference. Whatever the expiation, Mr. Gueshoff resigned on June 9. DELAY AND OPPOSITION OF BULGARIA On that very day the Czar summoned the Kings of Bulgaria and Servia to submit their disputes to his decision. While this demand was based on a specific provision of the Servo-Bulgarian treaty, His Majesty also urged it on the ground of devotion to the Slav cause. This pro-Slav argument provoked much criticism in Austro-Hungarian circles which {98} resented bitterly the assumption of Slav hegemony in Balkan affairs. However, on June 12 Bulgaria and Servia accepted Russian arbitration. But the terms were not agreed upon. While Mr. Venizelos and Mr. Pashitch impatiently awaited the summons to St. Petersburg they could get no definite information of the intentions of the Bulgarian government. And the rivalry of Austria-Hungary and Russia for predominance in the Balkans was never more intense than at this critical moment. On June 14 Dr. Daneff was appointed prime minister in succession to Mr. Gueshoff. He had represented Bulgaria in the London Peace Conference where his aggressive and uncompromising attitude had perturbed his fellow delegates from the other Balkan states and provoked some criticism in the European press. He was known as a Russophil. And he seems now to have got assurance from Russia that she would maintain the Bulgarian view of the treaty with Servia, although she {99} had at one time favored the Servian demand for an extensive revision of it. Certainly Dr. Daneff voiced the views and sentiments of the Bulgarian army and nation. I was in Sofia the week before the outbreak of the war between the Allies. And the two points on which everybody insisted were, first, that Servia must be compelled to observe the Treaty of Partition, and, secondly, that Central Macedonia must be annexed to Bulgaria. For these things all Bulgarians were ready to fight. And flushed with their great victories over the main army of Turkey they believed it would be an easy task to overpower the forces of Servia and Greece. For the Greeks they entertained a sort of contempt; and as for the Servians, had they not already defeated them completely at Slivnitza in 1886? Men high in the military service of the nation assured me that the Bulgarian army would be in Belgrade in eight days after war was declared. The Greeks too would quickly be driven out of Saloniki. The idea of {100} a conference to decide the territorial question in dispute between the Allies found no favor in any quarter. Now it is important that full justice should be done to Bulgaria. As against Servia, if Servia had stood alone, she might have appealed to the sanctity and inviolability of treaties. Circumstances had indeed changed since the treaty was negotiated. But was that a good reason, Bulgaria might have asked, why she should be excluded from Central Macedonia which the treaty guaranteed to her? Was that a good reason why she should not emancipate her Macedonian brethren for whose sake she had waged a bloody and costly war with Turkey? The Bulgarians saw nothing in the problem but their treaty with Servia and apparently cared for no territorial compensation without Central Macedonia. {101} BULGARIA'S UNCOMPROMISING POLICY The Bulgarians were blind to all facts and considerations but the abstract terms of the treaty with Servia. It was a fact, however, that the war against Turkey had been fought by four Allies. It was a fact that the Ottoman government had ceded European Turkey (except Albania) to these four Allies. No two of the Allies could divide between themselves the common possession. A division made by the four Allies might contravene the terms of a treaty which existed between any two of the Allies prior to the outbreak of the war. In any event it was for the four Allies together to effect a distribution of the territory ceded to them by Turkey. For that purpose a conference was an essential organ. How otherwise could the four nations reach any agreement? Yet the Bulgarians--army, government, and nation--were obsessed by the fixed idea that Bulgaria enjoyed not only a primacy in this {102} matter but a sort of sovereign monopoly by virtue of which it was her right and privilege to determine how much of the common spoils she should assign Servia (with whom she had an ante-bellum treaty), and, after Servia had been eliminated, how much she could spare to Greece (with whom no treaty of partition existed), and, when Greece had been disposed of, whether any crumbs could be flung to Montenegro, who had indeed very little to hope for from the Bulgarian government. And so Bulgaria opposed a conference of the four prime ministers though a conference was the natural, obvious, and necessary method of disposing of the common business pressing upon them. The attitude of Bulgaria left no alternative but war. Yet the Bulgarian government failed to reckon the cost of war. Was it not madness for Bulgaria to force war upon Greece, Servia, and Montenegro on the west at a time when Roumania was making demands for territorial compensation on the north and Turkey was {103} sure to seize the occasion to win back territory which Bulgaria had just wrested from her on the south? Never was a government blinder to the significant facts of a critical situation. All circumstances conspired to prescribe peace as the manifest policy for Bulgaria, yet nearly every step taken by the government was provocative of war. The Bulgarian army had covered itself with glory in the victorious campaign against the Moslem. A large part of European Turkey was already in Bulgarian hands. To imperil that glory and those possessions by the risk of a new war, when the country was exhausted and new enemies lay in wait, was as foolish as it was criminal. That way madness lay. Yet that way the policy pursued by the Bulgarian government infallibly led. Must we assume that there is some ground for suspecting that Austria-Hungary was inciting Bulgaria to war? We must leave it to history to answer. If the result was a terrible disaster, that was only the old Greek Nemesis of the {104} gods for the outraged principles of reason and moderation. THE CONCILIATORY SPIRIT OF GREECE Those principles, thanks to the conciliatory spirit of Mr. Venizelos, the prime minister, and the steady support of King Constantine, who was also commander-in-chief, were loyally followed in Greece. A few days after the declaration of war against the Ottoman Empire, into which Greece was precipitately hastened by the unexpected action of Servia and Bulgaria, the Greek foreign minister addressed a communication to the Allies on the subject of the division of conquered territory. He traced the line of Greek claims, as based on ethnological grounds, and added that, as he foresaw difficulties in the way of a direct adjustment, he thought the disputed points should be submitted to arbitration. But months followed months without bringing from Bulgaria any clear reply to this just and reasonable proposal of the Greek {105} government. Nevertheless, Mr. Venizelos persisted in his attitude of conciliation toward Bulgaria. He made concessions, not only in Thrace but in Eastern Macedonia, for which he was bitterly criticized on the ground of sacrificing vital Greek interests to Bulgaria. He recognized, as his critics refused to do, that the Balkan question could not be settled on ethnological principles alone; one had to take account also of geographical necessities. He saw that the Greeks in Thrace must be handed over to Bulgaria. He demanded only the Macedonian territory which the Greek forces had actually occupied, including Saloniki with an adequate hinterland. As the attitude of Bulgaria became more uncompromising, as she pushed her army of occupation further westward, Mr. Venizelos was even ready to make the River Struma the eastern boundary of New Greece, and to abandon to Bulgaria the Aegean littoral between the Struma and the Mesta Rivers including Greek cities like Kavala, {106} Seres, and Drama. But these new concessions of Mr. Venizelos were in danger of alienating from him the support of the Greek nation without yielding anything in return from Bulgaria. The outbreak of the war between the Allies saved him from a difficult political position. Yet against that war Mr. Venizelos strove resolutely to the end. And when in despite of all his efforts war came, he was justified in saying, as he did say to the national parliament, that the Greeks had the right to present themselves before the civilized world with head erect because this new war which was bathing with blood the Balkan Peninsula had not been provoked by Greece or brought about by the demand of Greece to receive satisfaction for all her ethnological claims. And this position in which he had placed his country was, he proudly declared, a "moral capital" of the greatest value. {107} BULGARIA BEGINS HOSTILITIES Bulgaria's belated acceptance of Russian arbitration was not destined to establish peace. Yet Dr. Daneff, the prime minister, who received me on June 27 and talked freely of the Balkan situation (perhaps the more freely because in this conversation it transpired that we had been fellow students together at the University of Heidelberg), decided on June 28 not to go to war with the Allies. Yet that very evening at eight o'clock, unknown to Dr. Daneff, an order in cipher and marked "very urgent" was issued by General Savoff to the commander of the fourth army directing him on the following evening to attack the Servians "most vigorously along the whole front." On the following afternoon, the 29th, General Savoff issued another order to the army commanders giving further instructions for attacks on the Servians and Greeks, including an attack on Saloniki, stating that these attacks were {108} taking place "without any official declaration of war," and that they were undertaken in order to accustom the Bulgarian army to regard their former allies as enemies, to hasten the activities of the Russian government, to compel the former allies to be more conciliatory, and to secure new territories for Bulgaria! Who was responsible for this deplorable lack of harmony between the civil government and the military authorities has not yet been officially disclosed. Did General Savoff act on his own responsibility? Or is there any truth in the charge that King Ferdinand after a long consultation with the Austro-Hungarian Minister instructed the General to issue the order? Dr. Daneff knew nothing of it, and though he made every effort to stop the resulting hostilities, the dogs of war had been let loose and could not now be torn from one another's throats. There had been sporadic fighting in Macedonia between the Allies for some months past. Greece and Servia had concluded an anti-Bulgarian {109} alliance on June 1. They also entered into a convention with Roumania by which that power agreed to intervene in case of war between the late Allies. And war having been declared, Roumania seized Silistria at midnight, July 10. Meanwhile the Servian and Greek forces were fighting the Bulgarians hard at Kilkis, Doiran, and other points between the Varclar and the Struma. And, as if Bulgaria had not enemies enough on her back already, the Turkish Army on July 12 left the Chataldja fortifications, crossed the Enos-Midia line, and in less than two weeks, with Enver Bey at its head, re-occupied Adrianople. Bulgaria was powerless to stop the further advance of the Turks, nor had she forces to send against the Roumanians who marched unopposed through the neighboring country till Sofia itself was within their power. No nation could stand up against such fearful odds. Dr. Daneff resigned on July 15. {110} And the new ministry had to make the best terms it could. TERMS OF PEACE A Peace Conference met at Bukarest on July 28, and peace was signed on August 10. By this Treaty of Bukarest Servia secured not only all that part of Macedonia already under her occupation but gained also an eastward extension beyond the Doiran-Istib-Kochana line into purely Bulgarian territory. Greece fared still better under the treaty; for it gave her not only all the Macedonian lands she had already occupied but extended her domain on the Aegean littoral as far east as the mouth of the Mesta and away into the interior as far above Seres and Drama as they are from the sea,--thus establishing the northern frontier of New Greece from Lake Presba (near the eastern boundary of Albania) on a northward-ascending line past Ghevgheli and Doiran to Kainchal in Thrace on the other {111} side of the Mesta River. This assignment of territory conquered from Turkey had the effect of shutting out Bulgaria from the Western Aegean; and the littoral left to Bulgaria between the Mesta River and the Turkish boundary has no harbor of any consequence but Dedeagach, which is much inferior to Kavala. The new Turkish boundary was arranged by negotiations between the Bulgarian and Ottoman governments. The terminus on the Black Sea was pushed north from Midia almost up to the southern boundary of Bulgaria. Enos remained the terminus on the Aegean. But the two termini were connected by a curved line which after following the Maritza River to a point between Sufli and Dimotika then swung in a semicircle well beyond Adrianople to Bulgaria and the Black Sea. Thus Bulgaria was compelled to cede back to the Asiatic enemy not only Adrianople but the battlefields of Kirk Kilisse, Lule Burgas, and Chorlu on which {112} her brave soldiers had won such magnificent victories over the Moslems. THE ATTITUDE OF ROUMANIA The Treaty of Bukarest marked the predominance of Roumania in Balkan affairs. And of course Roumania had her own reward. She had long coveted the northeastern corner of Bulgaria, from Turtukai on the Danube to Baltchik on the Black Sea. And this territory, even some miles beyond that line, Bulgaria was now compelled to cede to her by the treaty. It is a fertile area with a population of some 300,000 souls, many of whom are Turks. The claim of Roumania to compensation for her neutrality during the first Balkan war was severely criticized by the independent press of western Europe. It was first put forward in the London Peace Conference, but rejected by Dr. Daneff, the Bulgarian delegate. But the Roumanian government persisted in pressing the claim, and the Powers finally decided to {113} mediate, with the result that the city of Silistria and the immediately adjoining territory were assigned to Roumania. Neither state was satisfied with the award and the second Balkan war broke out before the transfer had been effected. This gave Roumania the opportunity to enforce her original claim, and, despite the advice of Austria-Hungary, she used it, as we have already seen. The Roumanian government justifies its position in this matter by two considerations. In the first place, as Roumania was larger and more populous than any of the Balkan states, the Roumanian nation could not sit still with folded arms while Bulgaria wrested this pre-eminence from her. And if Bulgaria had not precipitated a war among the Allies, if she had been content with annexing the portion of European Turkey which she held under military occupation, New Bulgaria would have contained a greater area and a larger population than Roumania. The Roumanians claim, {114} accordingly, that the course they pursued was dictated by a legitimate and vital national interest. And, in the second place, as Greeks, Servians, and Bulgarians based their respective claims to Macedonian territory on the racial character of the inhabitants, Roumania asserted that the presence of a large Roumanian (or Vlach) population in that disputed region gave her an equally valid claim to a share in the common estate. In all Macedonia there may be some 100,000 Vlachs, though Roumanian officials put the number much higher. Many of them are highland shepherds; others engage in transportation with trains of horses or mules; those in the lowlands are good farmers. They are found especially in the mountains and valleys between Thessaly and Albania. They are generally favorable to the Greek cause. Most of them speak Greek as well as Roumanian; and they are all devoted members of the Greek Orthodox Church. Yet there has been a Roumanian {115} propaganda in Macedonia since 1886, and the government at Bukarest has devoted large sums to the maintenance of Roumanian schools, of which the maximum number at any time has perhaps not exceeded forty. Now if every other nation--Greek, Servian, Bulgarian--which had hitherto maintained its propaganda of schools and churches in Macedonia, was to bring its now emancipated children under the benign sway of the home government and also was to annex the Macedonian lands which they occupied, why, Roumania asked, should she be excluded from participation in the arrangement? She did not, it is true, join the Allies in fighting the common Moslem oppressor. But she maintained a benevolent neutrality. And since Macedonia is not conterminous with Roumania, she was not seeking to annex any portion of it. Yet the rights those Roumanians in Macedonia gave her should be satisfied. And so arguing, the Roumanian government claimed as a _quid pro {116} quo_ the adjoining northeastern corner of Bulgaria, permitting Bulgaria to recoup herself by the uncontested annexation of Thrace and Eastern Macedonia. Such was the Roumanian reasoning. Certainly it bore hard on Bulgaria. But none of the belligerents showed any mercy on Bulgaria. War is a game of ruthless self-interest. It was Bulgaria who appealed to arms and she now had to pay the penalty. Her losses enriched all her neighbors. What Lord Bacon says of individuals is still more true of nations: the folly of one is the fortune of another, and none prospers so suddenly as by others' errors. THE WORK AND REWARD OF MONTENEGRO I have already sufficiently described the territorial gains of Roumania, Servia, and Greece. But I must not pass over Montenegro in silence. As the invincible warriors of King Nicholas opened the war against the Ottoman Empire, so they joined Servia and Greece in the struggle {117} against Bulgaria. On Sunday, June 29, I saw encamped across the street from my hotel in Uskub 15,000 of these Montenegrin soldiers who had arrived only a day or two before by train from Mitrowitza, into which they had marched across Novi Bazar. Tall, lithe, daring, with countenances bespeaking clean lives, they looked as fine a body of men as one could find anywhere in the world, and their commanding figures and manly bearing were set off to great advantage by their striking and picturesque uniforms. The officers told me next day that in a few hours they would be fighting at Ghevgheli. Their splendid appearance seemed an augury of victory for the Serbs. Montenegro too received her reward by an extension of territory on the south to the frontier of Albania (as fixed by the Great Powers) and a still more liberal extension on the east in the sandjak of Novi Bazar. This patriarchal kingdom will probably remain unchanged so long as the present King lives, {118} the much-beloved King Nicholas, a genuinely Homeric Father of his People. But forces of an economic, social, and political character are already at work tending to draw it into closer union with Servia, and the Balkan wars have given a great impetus to these forces. A united Serb state, with an Adriatic littoral which would include the harbors of Antivari and Dulcigno, may be the future which destiny has in store for the sister kingdoms of Servia and Montenegro. If so, it is likely to be a mutually voluntary union; and neither Austria-Hungary nor Italy, the warders of the Adriatic, would seem to have any good ground to object to such a purely domestic arrangement. THE PROBLEM OF ALBANIA The Albanians, though they rather opposed than assisted the Allies in the war against Turkey, were set off as an independent nation by the Great Powers at the instigation of Austria-Hungary with the support of Italy. The {119} determination of the boundaries of the new state was the resultant of conflicting forces in operation in the European concert. On the north while Scutari was retained for Albania through the insistence of Austria-Hungary, Russian influence was strong enough to secure the Albanian centres of Ipek and Djakova and Prisrend, as well as Dibra on the east, for the allied Serb states. This was a sort of compensation to Servia for her loss of an Adriatic outlet at a time when the war between the Allies, which was destined so greatly to extend her territories, was not foreseen. But while in this way Albanians were excluded from the new state on the north and east, an incongruous compensation was afforded it on the south by an unjustifiable extension into northern Epirus, whose population is prevailingly Greek. The location of the boundary between Albania and New Greece was forced upon the Great Powers by the stand of Italy. During the first war the Greeks had occupied Epirus or southern {120} Albania as far north as a line drawn from a point a little above Khimara on the coast due east toward Lake Presba, so that the cities of Tepeleni and Koritza were included in the Greek area. But Italy protested that the Greek occupation of territory on both sides of the Straits of Corfu would menace the control of the Adriatic and insisted that the boundary between Albania and Greece should start from a point on the coast opposite the southern part of the island of Corfu. Greece, accordingly, was compelled to evacuate most of the territory she had occupied above Janina. And Albania subsequently attempted to assert her jurisdiction over it. But the task of Albania is bound to be difficult. For though the Great Powers have provided it with a ruler--the German Prince William of Wied--there is no organized state. The Albanians are one of the oldest races in Europe, if not the oldest. But they have never created a state. And to-day they are hopelessly {121} divided. It is a land of universal opposition--north against south, tribe against tribe, bey against bey. The majority of the population are Mohammedan but there are many Roman Catholics in the north and in the south the Greek Orthodox Church is predominant. The inhabitants of the north, who are called Ghegs, are divided into numerous tribes whose principal occupation is fighting with one another under a system of perpetual blood-feuds and inextinguishable vendettas. There are no tribes in the south, but the people, who are known as Tosks, live under territorial magnates called beys, who are practically the absolute rulers of their districts. The country as a whole is a strange farrago of survivals of primitive conditions. And it is not only without art and literature, but without manufactures or trade or even agriculture. It is little wonder that the Greeks of Epirus feel outraged by the destiny which the European Powers have imposed upon them--to be torn {122} from their own civilized and Christian kindred and subjected to the sway of the barbarous Mohammedans who occupy Albania. Nor is it surprising that since Hellenic armies have evacuated northern Epirus in conformity with the decree of the Great Powers, the inhabitants of the district, all the way from Santi Quaranta to Koritza, are declaring their independence and fighting the Albanians who attempt to bring them under the yoke. The future of Albania is full of uncertainty. The State, however, was not created for the Albanians, who for the rest, are not in a condition to administer or maintain it. The state was established in the interests of Austria-Hungary and Italy. And those powers are likely to shape its future. THE AEGEAN ISLANDS AND CRETE For the sacrifice demanded of Greece in Epirus the Great Powers permitted her by way of compensation to retain all the Aegean Islands {123} occupied by her during the war, except Imbros, Tenedos, and the Rabbit Islands at the mouth of the Dardanelles. These islands, however, Greece is never to fortify or convert into naval bases. This allotment of the Asiatic Islands (which includes all but Rhodes and the Dodecanese, temporarily held by Italy as a pledge of the evacuation of Libya by the Turkish officers and troops) has given great dissatisfaction in Turkey, where it is declared it would be better to have a war with Greece than cede certain islands especially Chios and Mitylene. The question of the disposition of the islands had, however, been committed by Turkey to the Great Powers in the Treaty of London. And Turkish unofficial condemnation of the action of the Powers now creates a dangerous situation. Mr. Venizelos declared not long ago, with the enthusiastic approval of the chamber, that the security of Greece lay alone in the possession of a strong navy. For Mr. Venizelos personally nothing in all {124} these great events can have been more gratifying than the achievement of the union of Crete with Greece. This was consummated on December 14, when the Greek flag was hoisted on Canea Fort in the presence of King Constantine, the prime minister, and the consuls of the Great Powers, and saluted with 101 guns by the Greek fleet. KING CONSTANTINE Fortune in an extraordinary degree has favored the King of the Hellenes--Fortune and his own wise head and valiant arm and the loyal support of his people. When before has a Prince taken supreme command of a nation's army and in the few months preceding and succeeding his accession to the throne by successful generalship doubled the area and population of his country? [Illustration: Map: The Balkan Peninsula after the Wars of 1912-1913.] {125} COST OF THE WAR The Balkan wars have been bloody and costly. We shall never know of the thousands of men, women, and children who died from privation, disease, and massacre. But the losses of the dead and wounded in the armies were for Montenegro 11,200, for Greece 68,000, for Servia 71,000, for Bulgaria 156,000, and for Turkey about the same as for Bulgaria. The losses in treasure were as colossal as in blood. Only rough computations are possible. But the direct military expenditures are estimated at figures varying from a billion and a quarter to a billion and a half of dollars. This of course takes no account of the paralysis of productive industry, trade, and commerce or of the destruction of existing economic values. Yet great and momentous results have been achieved. Although seated again in his ancient capital of Adrianople, the Moslem has been expelled from Europe, or at any rate is no {126} longer a European Power. For the first time in more than five centuries, therefore, conditions of stable equilibrium are now possible for the Christian nations of the Balkans. Whether the present alignment of those states toward one another and towards the Great Powers is destined to continue it would be foolhardy to attempt to predict. THE FUTURE OF THE BALKANS But without pretending to cast a horoscope, certain significant facts may be mentioned in a concluding word. If the Balkan states are left to themselves, if they are permitted to settle their own affairs without the intervention of the Great Powers, there is no reason why the existing relations between Greece, Servia, Montenegro, and Roumania, founded as they are on mutual interest, should not continue; and if they continue, peace will be assured in spite of Bulgaria's cry for revenge and readjustment. The danger lies in the influence of the {127} Great Powers with their varying attractions and repulsions. France, Germany, and Great Britain, disconnected with the Balkans and remote from them, are not likely to exert much direct individual influence. But their connections with the Triple Alliance and the Triple Entente would not leave them altogether free to take isolated action. And two other members of those European groups--Russia and Austria-Hungary--have long been vitally interested in the Balkan question; while the opposition to Servian annexation on the Adriatic littoral and of Greek annexation in Epirus now for the first time reveals the deep concern of Italy in the same question. The Serbs are Slavs. And the unhappy relations between Servia and Austria-Hungary have always intensified their pro-Russian proclivities. The Roumanians are a Romance people, like the French and Italians, and they have hitherto been regarded as a Balkan extension of the Triple Alliance. The attitude of {128} Austria-Hungary, however, during the Balkan wars has caused a cooling of Roumanian friendship, so that its transference to Russia is no longer inconceivable or even improbable. Greece desires to be independent of both groups of the European system, but the action of Italy in regard to Northern Epirus and in regard to Rhodes and the Dodecanese has produced a feeling of irritation and resentment among the Greeks which nothing is likely to allay or even greatly alleviate. Bulgaria in the past has carried her desire to live an independent national life to the point of hostility to Russia, but since Stambuloff's time she has shown more natural sentiments towards her great Slav sister and liberator. Whether the desire of revenge against Servia (and Greece) will once more draw her toward Austria-Hungary only time can disclose. In any event it will take a long time for all the Balkan states to recover from the terrible exhaustion of the two wars of 1912 and 1913. {129} Their financial resources have been depleted; their male population has been decimated. Necessity, therefore, is likely to co-operate with the community of interest established by the Treaty of Bukarest in the maintenance of conditions of stable equilibrium in the Balkans. Of course the peace-compelling forces operative in the Balkan states themselves might be counter-acted by hostile activities on the part of some of the Great Powers. And there is one danger-point for which the Great Powers themselves are solely responsible. This, as I have already explained, is Albania. An artificial creation with unnatural boundaries, it is a grave question whether this so-called state can either manage its own affairs or live in peace with its Serb and Greek neighbors. At this moment the Greeks of Epirus (whom the Great Powers have transferred to Albania) are resisting to the death incorporation in a state which outrages their deepest and holiest sentiments of religion, race, nationality, and humane {130} civilization. On the other hand the Hoti and Gruda tribes on the north fiercely resent annexation to Montenegro (which the Great Powers have decreed) and threaten to summon to their support other Malissori tribes with whom they have had a defensive alliance for several centuries. If Prince William of Wied is unable to cope with these difficulties, Italy and Austria-Hungary may think it necessary to intervene in Albania. But the intervention of either would almost certainly provoke compensatory action on the part of other European Powers, especially Russia. One can only hope that the Great Powers may have wisdom granted to them to find a peaceful solution of the embarrassing problem which they have created in setting up the new state of Albania. That the Albanians themselves will have an opportunity to develop their own national independence I find it impossible to believe. Yet I heard in the summer of 1913 at Valona from the lips of Ismail Kemal Bey, {131} the head of the provisional government, a most impressive statement of his hopes and aspirations for an independent Albania and his faith and confidence in its future, in which he claimed to voice the sentiments of the Albanian people. But, as I have already explained, I think it doubtful whether under the most favorable external circumstances the Albanians are at present qualified to establish and maintain an independent state. And their destiny is so inextricably entangled with the ambitions of some of the Great Powers that the experiment stands no chance of getting a fair trial. I heartily wish the circumstances were other than they are. For as an American I sympathize with the aspirations of all struggling nationalities to be free and independent. And my interest in Albania is deepened, as the interest of all Americans must be deepened, by the fact that a large number of Albanians have now found a home in the United States. {133} INDEX Abdul Hamid II, misgovernment, 32. Adrianople, capture by Murad I, 4; left to Turkey, 9, 25; holds out against Bulgaria, 56; _sine qua non_ at Peace Conference, 57; captured, 57; question of retention of, 58; reoccupied by Turkish army, 109; ceded back to Turkey, 111. Adriatic, question of supremacy over, 68. Aegean Islands, Greece takes, 52; left to decision of Powers, 59; given to Greece, 122. Albania, Montenegrins, 53; to be left to Powers, 59; cause of friction, 67; problem of, 118; given a ruler, 120; danger-point of the Balkans, 129; northern tribes oppose absorption by Montenegro, 130; future of, 131. Alexander, Prince, of Bulgaria, 27. Area, see under countries. Asen brothers, free Bulgaria, 10. Athens, recaptured, 22. Austria, discusses division of Turkey, 7; given Bosnia and Herzegovina, 27; intervenes in Macedonia, 33; demands independent Albania, 67, 118; opposes Servia, 68; dislikes Slav hegemony, 97; interests in Balkans, 127. Balkan Alliance, see Balkan states. Balkan states, quarrel, 11; peninsula under Moslems, 13; massacres in, 25; large part of peninsula lost to Turkey, 27; dissensions among, 60; alliance, 34; rival ambitions among, 64; treaty restrictions, 72; causes of war between, 75; previous fighting between, 108; make peace, 110; future, 126. Balkan wars, cause of first war, 30; cause of second war, 64; division of fighting, 54; cost, 125. (For progress, see under countries.) Basil II, conquers Bulgaria, 10. Belgrade, conquered by Dushan, 12. Berane, massacre at, 36. Berlin, Treaty of, 21; Congress of, 78. Blockade, Greek, of Turkey, 51. Boris, accepts Christianity, 9. Bosnia, conquered by Dushan, 12; delegated to Austria, 27. Bosphorus, Turks on, 3. Brusa, surrendered, 3. Bukarest, see Treaty of, and Peace Conference. Bulgaria, independent, 8; suffers most, 8; church, progress, area, 9; under Moslem despotism, 11; ravaged by Turks, decline, 14; educational movement, 23; exarchate established, 24; revolt against Turkey, 25; "Big Bulgaria," 25; proclaimed independent, 26; astounding progress, 27; area and population, 29; declares war against Turkey, 34; alliance with Greece, 35; with Servia, 35; decide to mobilize, 36; enters Thrace, 54; success at Kirk Kilisse, Lule Burgas, and Chorlu, 55; capture Adrianople, 57; disagreement with Servia, 65; rivalry with Greece, 65; as to division of Macedonia, 72; demands that Servia observe treaty, 76; claims of, 77; exarchate in Macedonia, 81; alleged majority in Macedonia, 88; jingoism in, 96; position of, as to arbitration of Czar, 99; uncompromising policy, 101; her mistake, 102; opens war, 107; defeat by Allies, 109; makes peace, 110; present attitude, 127. Byron, Lord, volunteer in Greece, 21. Byzantine Empire, falling before Turks, 4; annihilates Bulgaria under Samuel, 10. Chataldja, now border of Turkey, 8; Bulgarians at, 55. Chorlu, Bulgarians victorious at, 55. Christians, defeated by Moslems, 5; races quarrel, 11; In Macedonia, 31; oppressed, 13. Constantine, King, 20; as Crown Prince, commanding general, 48; success, 50; captures Janina, 57; ability and achievements, 124. Constantinople, seat of Byzantine Empire, 4; captured by Mohammed II, 5; left to Turkey, 8; Russia at gates of, 25. Crete, question of, 42; captured by Venetians, 43; present condition, 43, 44; becomes autonomous, 44; elects members to Greek parliament, 45; process of annexation to Greece, 45, 124; Turkish sovereignty withdrawn, 59. Czar, arbiter of Treaty of Partition, 95; summons Servia and Bulgaria to submit their disputes, 97. Daneff, Dr., prime minister of Bulgaria, 98; tries to stop war, 107; rejects Roumanian claim, 112; resigns, 109. Dushan, Stephen, rules Servia, 12. Eastern Roumelia, see Roumelia. Elassona, Greeks win at, 50. England, fleet at Navarino, 22; joins Russia to reform Macedonia, 33; influence, 127. Enver Bey, heads Young Turk revolt, 58. "Eothen," does not mention Bulgaria, 15. Epinus holds out, 56; Greeks of, resist incorporation in Albania, 129. European, aid for Greece, 21. Evans, Sir Arthur, excavations in Crete, 43. Exarchate, Bulgarian, 19; Sultan's firman, 24; in Macedonia, 81. Ferdinand, Prince, of Bulgaria, 27; King, 55, 108. France, fleet at Navarino, 22; influence, 127. Gabrovo, school of, 23. Gallipoli, entry of Turks into, 4. George, King of Greece, assassinated, 22; experienced ruler, 36; Prince, Commissioner of Crete, 44. Germany, influence, 127. Gibbon, quoted as to Czar Simeon, 9. Gladstone, denunciation of Turkish atrocities, 25. Great Britain, see England. Greece, becomes independent, 7; ecclesiastical domination of Slavs, 16; Greek millet, 17; ascendancy in Bulgaria, 18; influence in Turkish Empire, 19; war of independence, 21; Powers make her independent, 22; boundaries, 28; area and population, 29; causes of war with Turkey, 32; declares war, 34; alliance with Bulgaria, 35; reorganizes army, 37; near alliance with Turkey, 40; Cretan question, 42; mobilization, 48; enters Macedonia, 49; conquers at Sarandaporon, Serfidje, Elassona, Veria, and Jenitsa, 50; blockades Turkey, 51; captures Janina, 57; rivalry with Bulgaria, 65; favors Servian egress to Aegean, 71; question of division of Macedonia, 74; propaganda in Macedonia, 83; position of division of territory, 104; conciliatory methods, 105; alliance against Bulgaria, 108; treaty of peace and extension of territory, 110; annexation of Crete, 124; attitude toward Italy, 128. Gueshoff, agrees to conference of Allies, 95; statesman, 96; resigns, 97. Hellenism, cause of, 36. Hellespont, Turks cross, 4. Herzegovina, conquered by Stephen Nemanyo, 11; delegated to Austria, 27. "Internal Organization" in Macedonia, 32. Ipek, Archbishop of, 12. Islam, millet of, 16. Ismail Kemal Bey on Albania's future, 130. Italy holds Rhodes, 52; demands independent Albania, 67, 118; desires control of Adriatic, 69; protests against Greece at Corfu, 120. Janina, holds out, 56; falls, 57. Janissaries, 13; revolt, 14. Jenitsa, Turks defeated at, 50. Kara-George, leads Servians, 20; dynasty, 21. Kiamil Pasha, Grand Vizier, 48; driven out, 58. Kilkis, battle of, 109. Kirk Kilisse, Bulgarian victory, 55. Kossovo, field of, 4; avenged, 53. Kochana, massacre at, 36. Kumanovo, Servians defeat Turks at, 53. Lazar, the Serb, 4. Literary revival in Bulgaria, 23. London, see Treaty of, and Peace Conference. Lule Burgas, Bulgarian victory, 55. Macedonia, ruled by Murad I, 4; cause of first Balkan war, 30; question of its division, 72; racial problem, 79, 89; religion in, 81; alleged Bulgarian majority in, 88; claims to central portion of, 89. Mahmud Shevket Pasha, Grand Vizier, 58. Massacre, in 1876, 25; at Kochana and Berane, 36; inflames Slavs, 47. Mehemet Ali, fights against Greece, 22. Meluna Pass, Greeks enter, 49. Millet, a Turkish term, 16. Mohammed II, conquers Constantinople, 5. Mohammedan, intolerance, 8; Balkan peninsula under, 13; incapacity, 31. Monastir, captured by Serbs, 53. Montenegro, remembers Kossovo, 5; conquered by Nemanyo, 11; independent by Treaty of Berlin, 27; area and population, 29; declares war against Turkey, 34; fires first shot of war, 53; captures Scutari, 57; work and reward, 116; inclination toward Servia, 118. Moslem, see Mohammedan. Murad I, captures Adrianople, 4. Navarino, Battle of, 22. Nazim Pasha, murdered, 58. Near Eastern Question, Macedonia, 30. Nemanyo, Stephen, unites Servia, 11. Nicaea, surrender of, 3. Nicholas, King of Montenegro, 53; Homeric Father, 118. Nigrita, Greeks and Bulgarians fight at, 66. Novi-Bazar, Montenegrins in, 53. Obrenovich, Milosh, leads Servians, 20; dynasty, 21. Ochrida, location, 9; given bishop, 81; religious division, 88. Orkhan, Brusa surrenders to, 3. Otto, of Bavaria, becomes King of Greece, 22. Ottoman Empire, see Turkey. Pashitch, demands revision of treaty, 95. Patriarch, Greek, of Constantinople, 17. Patriarchate restricted, 19, 24. Peace Conference, at London, 57; at Bukarest, 110. Peace, terms of, with Turkey, 59; between Allies, 110. Peter, King, 21. Phanariots, Turkish term, 19. Pomaks, become Moslem, 14. Population, see under countries. Porte, see Turkey. Powers, intervene in Greece, 22; recognize Bulgarian independence, 26; views of Balkan success, 55; meet at London, 57; lack of success, 57; insist on peace, 58; give Silistria to Roumania, 112; in Albania, 119. Prilip, Serbs capture, 53. Racial, division, 30; sympathies, 31; problem in Macedonia, 79; fallacies in Macedonia, 84; characteristics, 89; in Albania, 121. Religion, Turks divide subjects by, 16; contest in Bulgaria, 24; in Crete, 43, 44; in Macedonia, 81; in Albania, 121. Roumania, becomes independent, 7; by Treaty of Berlin, 27; convention with Greece and Servia, 109; seizes Silistria, 109; at Treaty of Bukarest, 112; justification, 113; attitude toward Triple Alliance, 127. Roumelia, Eastern, union with Bulgaria, 26; annexation, 78. Russia, discusses the division of Turkey, 7; fleet at Navarino, 22; declares war against Turkey, 25; intervention in Macedonia, 33; rivalry with Austria, 98; interest in Balkans, 127. St. Petersburg, conference of allies at, 95. Saloniki, left to Turkey, 9; conquered by Greeks, 51; desirability, 70. Samuel, reigns in Bulgaria, 10. San Stefano, Treaty of, 25; destroyed by Powers, 26. Sarandaporon, Turks driven from, 50. Savoff, General, orders attacks on Servians and Greeks, 107. Scutari holds out, 56; falls, 57; to Albania, 119. Serbs, see Servia. Serfidje, Greeks capture, 50. Servia, remembers Kossovo, 5; independent, 7; conquers Bulgaria, under Asen, 10; become Christian, launch a dynasty, 11; decline, 14; throws off Turkish yoke, 20; independence by Treaty of Berlin, 27; area and population, 29; bands in Macedonia, 32; declares war against Turkey, 34; alliance with Bulgaria, 35; decide to mobilize, 36; enter Macedonia, 53; victorious, at Kumanovo, Prilip, and Monastir, 53; differences with Bulgaria, 64; desire to reach Adriatic, 68; recoils to Aegean, 70; question of division of Macedonia, 72; propaganda in Macedonia, 82; attitude of, 92; jingoism in, 96; position of, 100; alliance against Bulgaria, 108; her enlargement of territory under the Treaty of Bukarest, 110; affiliations with Russia, 127. Shishman, Czar, dies, 11. Silistria, taken by Roumania, 109; awarded by Powers, 113. Slavs, unsubdued, 4; all under Moslems, 13; hostility to Greeks, 18; indignation against Turkey, 47; racial characteristics in Macedonia, 89. Suleyman the Magnificent, 5. Thrace, ruled by Murad I, 4; location, 54; entered by Bulgarians, 54. Treaty of Berlin, recognizes Servian independence, etc., 21; of Bukarest, 110; of London, short lived, 58; eliminates Turkey, 63; of Partition, between Servia and Bulgaria, 64; of San Stefano, created "Big Bulgaria," 25; torn up by Powers, 26. Triple Alliance, influence, 127. Triple Entente, influence, 127. Trnovo capital of Bulgaria, 10; burned, 11. Tsaribrod, interview at, 95. Turkey, empire in Europe, 3; armies go to Danube, 4; becomes central European power, 5; treatment of subjects, 6; decline and division, 7; driven from Europe, 8; oppression, 13; troops ravage Bulgaria, 14; reconquers Greece, 22; European, how divided, 28; area and population, 29; frustrates Treaty of Berlin, 32; war against by Balkans, 34; blockaded by Greece, 51; at mercy of Allies, 56; at Peace Conference, 57; accepts peace, 57; driven from Europe, 59; reoccupies Adrianople, 109; final boundary of Turkey in Europe, 111; no longer European power, 125; Asiatic, next danger-point, 129. Uskub, Dushan crowned at, 12; given Bishop, 81. Venizelos, Prime Minister of Greece, 37; criticism of and defense, 40; his predicament, 46; suggests conference of Allies, 95; conciliatory position, 104. Veria, Greeks enter, 50. Vienna, Suleyman at gates of, 5; siege of, 14. Vilayet, Turkish term, 28. Vlachs, in Macedonia, 114. William, of Wied, King of Albania, 120. Young Turks, rule, 33; reject proposals of Venizelos, 47; forced out, 48; depose Kiamil Pasha, 58. Zaimis, succeeds Prince George in Crete, 45. 
12805	----	Proofreading Team. THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALKAN CAMPAIGN OR The Struggle to Save a Nation By CLAIR W. HAYES AUTHOR OF "The Boy Allies in Great Peril," "The Boy Allies at Liége," "The Boy Allies on the Firing Line," "The Boy Allies with the Cossacks," "The Boy Allies in the Trenches." 1916 CHAPTER I. IN THE AIR. "And how do you feel now, Mr. Stubbs?" Hal Paine took his eyes from the distance ahead long enough to gaze toward that part of the military aeroplane in which three other figures were seated. It might rather be said, however, that two of the others were seated, for the third figure was huddled up in a little ball, now and then emitting feeble sounds. In response to Hal's question, this huddled figure straightened itself up long enough to make reply. "I feel sick," came the answer in a low voice. "How long before we can get back to earth, so that I may die peacefully?" "Oh, I guess you won't die, Mr. Stubbs," said Hal, chuckling a bit to himself. He turned his eyes ahead again and gave his entire attention to guiding the swiftly flying craft. The first streak of dawn had appeared in the east but a few moments before and gradually now it was growing light. High in the air, it was very chilly and those in the aeroplane had drawn their coats closely about them. "Where do you suppose we are now, Hal?" This speaker was another of the passengers in the car, Chester Crawford, chum and bosom companion of Hal. "Somewhere over Central Austria," replied Hal, not taking his eyes from ahead. "I would rather that it were over Serbia, Montenegro or Greece," said the fourth occupant of the airship, Colonel Harry Anderson of His British Majesty's service. "I'm beginning to get a little cramped up here. I'd like to stretch my legs a bit." "You won't ever stretch them again, you may be sure of that," said a hollow voice, none other than that of Anthony Stubbs, American war correspondent, who now aroused himself enough to predict dire results. "What?" said Colonel Anderson. "And why won't I ever stretch my legs again?" "The undertaker'll do it for you," groaned Stubbs. "This contraption is bound to come down pretty quick and when it does it'll be all off." "Can't see why that should worry you any," remarked the colonel cheerfully. "It won't be your funeral." "No, but I'll have one at about the same time," Stubbs moaned. "I go down when you do." He raised his voice a trifle. "Let's go down, Hal," he continued. "I'm awfully sick." "Go down nothing," ejaculated Chester. "Think we want to give the Austrians another chance at us, huh?" "Better be shot by an Austrian than to die in this infernal machine," declared Stubbs in a feeble voice. "This," said Chester calmly, "is an airship and not an infernal machine." "Well, it's my idea of an infernal machine, all the same," Stubbs groaned. "We'll all come down in pieces, as sure as you're a foot high." "Oh, I guess not," said Chester. "We--whoa, there." He broke off suddenly and seized the side of the machine, as did Colonel Anderson, just as the craft tilted dangerously to one side. "Help!" came a cry from Stubbs, as he went rolling toward the side of the craft. There appeared to be no danger that the little man would be thrown out, for the sides of the basket-like craft protected him, but he was plainly frightened and Chester gave him a hand, now that the machine had righted itself again. "It's all right, Stubbs," the lad said; "no danger at all. Sit up, now." The little man shook off the hand. "I don't want to sit up," he whimpered. "I want to jump overboard and end all this suspense. I might as well die now as ten minutes from now. Oh my, I wish--" "Well, Mr. Stubbs," came Hal's voice, "unless I miss my guess, you are likely to get your wish. Here comes one of the enemy to watch you die." "What's that?" exclaimed Chester and Colonel Anderson in a single voice. "Off to the right," replied Hal, quietly. Glancing in that direction, Chester and Colonel Anderson saw a large air craft headed in their direction. "After us, do you think?" asked Chester. "Can't tell," replied Hal, briefly. "Hardly probable," said Colonel Anderson. "Chances are the fellow believes we are one of his own kind and wants a word with us." "Maybe you're right," said Hal. "I'll hold to my present course anyhow and take a chance." The aeroplane continued on as before. Now Stubbs came to life once more. "Well, why don't you get a little speed out of this thing?" he demanded. "What are you going to do? Stand right here and let that fellow get us? What's the matter with you, anyhow? Trying to get me killed?" "Why, Mr. Stubbs," exclaimed Chester, in mock seriousness, "I thought that you were simply dying to be killed. Here's an Austrian coming in direct answer to your prayers. What's the difference whether he gets you now or ten minutes from now? It'll be all the same in a hundred years." "Think you're smart, don't you," snapped Stubbs. "Why should I want to be killed? I ask you now, why should I want to be killed?" "Well, really, I don't know," replied Chester, "unless it is because you are so awfully sick." "Sick!" shouted Stubbs. "Sick! Who said anything about being sick?" "Why, I understood you to say--" "Well, you understood wrong. Sick? No, I'm not sick, but we'll all be worse than sick if Hal can't coax a little speed out of this machine. Say!" this to Hal, "what are you waiting for, anyhow?" "Now you just hold your horses, Stubbs," replied Hal. "I'm running this party at this moment and I'm going to run it my own way. Colonel Anderson, if you hear any more out of our war-corresponding friend, kindly sit on him, will you?" "With pleasure," replied the colonel briefly. "Oh, you will, will you?" cried Stubbs. "Well, you won't. I--I'll--" He subsided after muttering to himself for some moments. The others now gave their undivided attention to the other craft, which by this time had drawn close to them. "Man wig-wagging forward, Hal," said Chester. "I see him," replied Hal, "but I can't make out his signals. Can you, Anderson?" "No, I can't. He evidently has something to say, though." "Well," said Hal, "we'll have to hold a sudden council of war. What are we going to do about it? Shall we stop and talk, trying to fool him, or shall we run for it?" "Well, if we were going to run, it would have been better before he got so close," said Chester. "Guess we may as well see what he has to say. These Austrian uniforms won't come in bad. You do the talking, Hal." Hal nodded. "All right," he said. He reduced the speed of the machine and the Austrian came closer. "Ahoy, there!" he said in German. "Who are you?" "Lieutenant Drizladaz, attached to the Austrian army at Trieste," Hal shouted back. "What are you doing here?" "Mission," Hal yelled. "Where to?" Hal thought quickly. "Greece," he said finally. "What for?" "That," said Hal, "is none of your business. I have my orders and I haven't time to fool around here with you. I'm due back to-morrow night." There was a moment's silence from the other machine and then a voice called: "Has your mission anything to do with Greece's intervention in the war?" "Well, I can't say anything about that," replied the lad, thinking to give the other the impression that it was. "I see," was the answer shouted back. "Well, I wish you luck. Sorry you can't tell me all about it." "You probably will know soon enough," replied Hal. "Good. Don't want any company, do you?" "No, I guess not." "You want to be careful crossing the Balkans. I understand there are some British and French aircraft with the Serbians and Montenegrins. Look out for them." "I'll be on guard," replied Hal. "Thanks for the information." "Tell you what," said the Austrian, "I've been doing some scout duty there myself. I'll just trail along. May be able to help you out a bit" Hal didn't think much of this plan. "I can make it all right myself," he declared. "Suppose you can," was the reply, "but it is just as well to be on the safe side." "Well, suit yourself," said Hal, "but don't expect me to wait for you." "If you can distance me you will have to travel," returned the Austrian. "I've the fastest craft in the service." "I'm glad to hear that," replied Hal, and added to himself: "I don't think." "Set your pace," continued the Austrian. "I'll trail along behind." "No use talking any more, I guess," Hal muttered to his friends. "May as well go along." Chester and Colonel Anderson nodded their assent and the machine moved forward again. Things might have gone well had it not been for Stubbs. Suddenly the little man uttered a yell and sat up straight in his seat. "Ouch!" he shouted. "I've got an awful pain!" CHAPTER II. MONTENEGRIN MOUNTAINEERS. Hal drew a sharp breath and tightened his hold upon the steering wheel. There was no question that Stubbs' voice had carried to the occupants of the second craft, and as Stubbs had exclaimed aloud in English there was little doubt in the minds of our three friends that the Austrians would seek an explanation. Nor were they wrong. Came a hail from the Austrian: "Who've you got aboard, there?" "Prisoner," replied Hal, thinking quickly. "What are you doing with him?" "We--" Hal began, but the Austrian interrupted. "Spies, that's what you are! Down to the ground now, or I'll put a hole through you." "Guess it's no use fooling any longer," muttered Hal. He threw over the elevating lever and the large craft soared rapidly. At the same moment a shot rang out from aboard the Austrian, followed by a cry of surprise, and then the Austrian gave chase. "Get your guns and see if you can pick 'em off," Hal instructed Chester and Colonel Anderson. "I'll run this thing, but you fellows will have to do the fighting." "Suits me," responded Chester, examining his revolver carefully. Colonel Anderson also nodded his agreement to this plan. Hal now changed his course and the airship headed toward the south, bearing off a trifle to the east, in a direction that he believed, eventually, would land them in Serbia. It became apparent now that the Austrian had not boasted of the speed of his craft without reason, for he gained perceptibly. "We can't out-run him, Hal," shouted Chester. "Then we shall have to try something else," was the reply. Abruptly he reduced the speed of the craft and the Austrians dashed in range of the revolvers of the fugitives almost before they could have realized it. "Crack! Crack!" Chester and Colonel Anderson had fired. There came a scream of pain from behind and the Austrian craft wobbled crazily. A moment later a man sprang to his feet, sought to retain his footing, threw up his arms and went hurtling into space. "Got one, Hal!" said Chester, quietly. "Good!" Came a volley of small arm fire from behind and bullets whined about the four friends. Again Chester and Colonel Anderson fired almost simultaneously and again their efforts were rewarded. A second man was put out of the fight, as they could see. At this moment Stubbs came into action. He arose from his seat and, grasping the side of the speeding craft with his left hand for support, stood to his full height. His right arm drew back, then flashed sharply forward again and a small object went spinning through the air toward the Austrian airship. It struck home and there was a terrible explosion, followed by several sharp cries of pain, as the Austrian airship seemed to split into a thousand pieces. A moment later these pieces disappeared. The three friends turned upon Stubbs. "What is this, magic?" asked Chester in surprise. "No," replied Stubbs, quietly. "Melenite. I just happened to see a stick of it here, so I threw it." "Well, you did a pretty good job, Stubbs," said Colonel Anderson. "I didn't pitch for my college team two years for nothing," returned Stubbs modestly. "But now let's go down. I want to get my feet on the ground again." "It won't be much longer, Stubbs," said Hal. "Another two hours at this speed should put us across the Serbian frontier. Just be patient." "I'll wait," replied Stubbs, "but I won't promise to be patient." He sank back to his place and refused to talk further. While the big army craft is speeding across Austria it will be a good time to explain the presence of the four friends in their present predicament and introduce them briefly to those who have not met them before. Hal Paine and Chester Crawford were both American lads. With the former's mother, they had been in Berlin at the outbreak of the great war, and, after a series of interesting and exciting adventures, they made their way to Liége just in time to take part in the defense of that stronghold with the Belgian army. There they won distinction and lieutenancies in the Belgian service, the latter bestowed upon them by King Albert himself. They had been in France with the British troops that had stopped the German drive on Paris and had gone with the Allied army on its advance. They had seen service on all fronts and now considered themselves veteran campaigners. Colonel Anderson they had met in Berlin just after the Kaiser had declared war upon France. The colonel, lieutenant then, and Major Derevaux, a Frenchman, had taken the boys with them on their flight and the four had later encountered each other in many strange and unexpected places. Stubbs they also had met while on one of their many missions and had earned the little man's undying gratitude; but he had repaid whatever they had done for him, with interest, more than once. The boys, in their latest exploit, had been with the Italian army in the Alps. Two of the four friends having fallen into the hands of the enemy, the others had entered the enemy's lines in an effort to effect their escape. It was a daring adventure, but after a fight and chase, the four had managed to seize the airship in which we now find them and had at last fought their way clear. They had then held a council of war and decided that it was best to head for the Balkans, rather than to run the gauntlet of the Austrian flying craft which kept constant vigil in the direction of the Italian lines. Hal and Chester, typical American lads, were large and strong for their ages, which were within a year of each other, seventeen and eighteen now. In the rough lumber camps of the north, the two had had considerable experience in the use of firearms and the art of self-defense--fists. Also, during the school term each had practiced the use of the sword until, though by no means experts, they could give a fair account of themselves with this weapon--as each had done more than once. Fortunately, both lads had made a study of languages and spoke French and German fluently. They never had trouble on that score. The great war up to this point had not gone as successfully as the Entente Allies had hoped in the early days. The German lines on all fronts were seemingly stronger than ever before. Even the entrance of Italy into the war on the side of the Allies had failed to turn the balance, as it had been confidently expected it would. East and west, the German lines held, while in the Balkans the enemy was even now advancing against the heroic little Serbian army, which, before many days, was to be forced to relinquish its country to the iron heel of the invader. Montenegro, the smallest factor in the war, still was fighting hard--the rugged and gigantic mountaineers giving a good account of themselves upon all sides. This was the situation, then, as the airship containing Colonel Anderson, British officer, Anthony Stubbs, American war correspondent, and Hal Paine and Chester Crawford sped southward over Austria. Several hours after the sinking of the Austrian aeroplane Chester spoke. "Where do you suppose we are now, Hal?" he asked. "I believe we must have crossed the frontier," replied Hal. "However, we'll wait another half hour before descending to have a look." The half hour up, Hal sent the airship lower and lower. Soon, a faint gray speck below became visible, assuming larger and larger proportions, until all aboard made out the ground beneath. And then, half a mile ahead, a body of troops were seen. Hal checked the speed of the craft immediately. "Don't know who they are," he explained. "We'll be careful. They may be all right and then again they may not be." He sent the machine higher again and a few minutes later the craft hung directly above the troops below. "I can't make out those uniforms," declared Chester. "Nor I," said Hal. "However, they are not Austrian, I can see that. We'll take a chance and go down." Again the machine moved closer toward the earth, and a few minutes later came to rest upon the ground a short distance from the main body of troops. A squad of men, let by an officer, came hurriedly forward, covering the four friends with their rifles. "By Jove!" exclaimed Colonel Anderson. "You must have miscalculated a bit, Hal. I recognize them now." "Well, who are they?" demanded the lad. "Montenegrins." "Good," cried Chester. "Then we are among friends." The four friends raised their hands in token of surrender as the officer and his men came toward them. A few paces away, the officer halted and addressed them. Hal shook his head. "Can't understand that lingo," he exclaimed. He addressed the officer in English and the officer also indicated that he could not understand. "Don't want to tackle him in German if I can help it," said Hal. "It might not suit him." "Well, what's the matter with French?" Chester wanted to know. "Nothing, I guess," returned Hal. "I'll try him. We are British officers," he said, addressing the Montenegrin officer, "and we have just escaped from the Austrians." The Montenegrin understood and replied in broken French: "How am I to know you are not of the enemy?" "Well, I don't know, to tell the truth," Hal replied with a pleasant smile. "I am afraid it does look a little bad for us, as we have nothing to prove our identities. But if you have a British or French officer about here, perhaps we can convince him." The Montenegrin nodded. "Fortunately, we have," he said. He ordered one of his men to summon Colonel Edwards. "By Jove!" said Anderson. "I know an Edwards. I wonder can it be the same?" "No such luck, I am afraid," said Chester. But it was; and a few moments later Colonel Edwards and Colonel Anderson were shaking hands affectionately. CHAPTER III. THE KING OF THE MONTENEGRINS. With his hand upon Edwards' arm, Colonel Anderson approached Hal and Chester. "I want you to meet my two young friends," he said. Colonel Edwards shook hands with each lad in turn and then turned to Stubbs, who, during all this time, had been standing quietly, while he cast a critical eye upon the Montenegrin troopers who stood near. "A likely looking bunch of men," he muttered to himself. "I'll bet they could give a good account of themselves in a--" He faced about just in time to acknowledge Colonel Anderson's introduction to Colonel Edwards; then turned again to survey the mountaineers. "Good fighters, these," he said to himself, "or I miss my guess." "Now," said Hal to Colonel Edwards, "there is really no use of our standing here. I'd like to look up a place where I can turn in for a few winks. I'm dead tired and I imagine the rest of you are, too." Chester seconded Hal's motion and Colonel Anderson admitted his own fatigue. Stubbs settled the matter. "Where there are men there are beds," he said; "or at least cots, or pallets, or something. I'm going to find one." He moved toward a row of tents in the distance. "Hold on there," said Chester. "We're all going, Stubbs." In the meantime Colonel Edwards had been holding a consultation with the Montenegrin officer who had first accosted the friends. "I am sure that if you vouch for them they are all right," said the Montenegrin. "Thanks," said Edwards. "Then, with your permission, I shall conduct them to my own quarters." "And you may also make free with mine," said the other. Again Colonel Edwards expressed his thanks, in which the others joined, and then he led the way toward the distant tents. Fifteen minutes later the four friends were sleeping soundly, with never a care in the world, for it had been long since they had closed their eyes and they were completely worn out. Darkness shrouded the small tent when Hal opened his eyes. It was several moments before the lad could gain his bearings, but when at last he realized just where he was he bethought himself of the others. "Still sleeping, I guess," he said. He arose, moved to the door of the tent and passed out. A steady rumbling sound fell upon his ears and Hal, momentarily, was unable to account for it. But the solution soon came to him. "Troops moving," he told himself. He was right. Walking some distance from the tent, he made out, probably half a mile away, the dark forms of many men as they marched swiftly on in the darkness, their figures lighted up ever and anon by the gleam of a flashlight. But the camp in which the lad stood was perfectly quiet. "Now I wonder--" he muttered--gazed silently ahead a moment and then turned back toward the tent, saying to himself: "Guess I'll wake the others up." Chester and Colonel Anderson were aroused without much trouble. Not so Stubbs. "What's the matter?" came the little man's query, when Hal prodded him gently in the ribs with his foot. "Time to get up," said Hal, briefly. For a moment Stubbs opened his eyes and peered into the darkness--for Hal had made no light. "Get up?" he exclaimed. "What! Anthony Stubbs get up in the middle of the night? Not much!" "But we are going, Stubbs," said Hal. "We don't want to leave you here by yourself." "Kind of you," said Stubbs sarcastically. "I can remember when you were not so solicitious of my welfare. Don't worry about me. I'll just sleep right along." He turned over and a loud snore a few moments later told that he was again in the land of dreams. Again Hal prodded him with his foot. "Stubbs! I say, Stubbs!" he called. Directly Stubbs opened his eyes. "And what's the matter this time?" he demanded aggrievedly. "Hurry!" Hal exclaimed, thinking to get the little man up by a ruse. "The Austrians are coming." "Run, then!" replied Stubbs. "I'll hide here. They won't bother me." "Now listen here, Stubs," said Chester, "just when do you want to get up?" Again Stubbs allowed his eyes to open and he peered into the darkness sleepily. "What day is this?" he inquired mildly. "Tuesday," replied Chester; "but what--" "Then call me Saturday," said the little man gently, and closed his eyes in sleep once more. "Ha! Ha!" laughed Colonel Anderson. "He had you there, Chester." Chester appeared somewhat flustered. "Well, he'll have to get up out of there," he said wrathfully. "Oh, come on and let him be, Chester," said Hal. "I guess nothing will hurt him. We'll be back by daylight and I'll venture to say we will find him here, still snoring." "Well, all right," Chester agreed at length; "but to tell you the truth, I don't just like that answer he gave me." The three left the tent and Hal led the way toward where he had so recently perceived the passing troops. Infantry, cavalry and artillery were still passing in dense masses, moving westward. "I wonder where they are going?" said Chester. "To the front, I suppose," replied Hal. "Now do you really suppose they are?" asked Chester sarcastically. "I thought perhaps they were on dress parade. Say, just where are we anyhow? Do either of you know?" "By Jove!" exclaimed Colonel Anderson. "I meant to ask Edwards, but I forgot all about it. He told us, you remember, he would be in the tent on our left. We'll go back and have him out. Perhaps we can learn a few things." "Suits me," Hal agreed. "We can't see anything here but troops, and we have seen too many of them to be much interested. Come on." Fifteen minutes later found them seated in the tent Colonel Edwards had commandeered for his temporary headquarters and the colonel himself doing the talking. "You are perhaps fifteen miles northwest of Cettinje, the capital of Montenegro," he explained. "And where are these troops going?" asked Hal. "Reinforcements to the Austrian front," said Colonel Edwards. "Also some of them, can they be spared, will be rushed to the aid of the Serbians, who, from all accounts, are being sorely pressed by the new German offensive." "New German offensive?" exclaimed Hal. "Why, yes. Haven't you heard of it?" "No. Will you explain?" "I'll try," said Colonel Edwards. "I'll revert back to the start. On Friday, August 13, news reached London, where I was then stationed, that an Austro-German army of more than 300,000 men was massing at a point on the Serbian frontier and it was asserted that the Kaiser was about to strike a blow at Serbia in order to improve Teuton prospects in the Balkans, where Roumania and Greece had been reported as waiting a favorable opportunity to join the Allies. "The great German victories in Russia, following the fall of Warsaw, had, however, caused the Balkan kingdoms to waver, and Bulgaria was said to have strong pro-German leanings. On August 16 the Austro-German army crossed the frontier and began a bombardment of Belgrade, the capital. This led to a crisis in the Greek parliament, where the Venizelos party caused the downfall of the cabinet, which supported the king's attitude of strict neutrality--a neutrality he had promised his consort, who is the sister of the Kaiser, as you know. "On August 21 Serbia made it known that in accordance with the advice of the Allies, she was willing to grant the demands of Bulgaria for the return of territory taken in the last Balkan war, and for a time it seemed that Bulgaria would enter the war on the side of the Allies. However, on September 19 it was said that Bulgaria would join the Central Powers, thus permitting Germany to establish an unbroken line of allies from the Baltic to the Bosporus. "On October 5, the Allies, upon invitation of the Greek premier, began the disembarkation of troops at Saloniki to go to the assistance of the Serbians; and, so far as I know, they are still landing." The three friends had listened attentively to this account of the Balkan situation. They had heard some inkling of the seriousness of the Serbian plight, but had not realized until now that Germany had at last set out to crush the little Balkan kingdom as she had crushed Belgium in the early days of the great war. "And what is the latest on the Bulgarian attitude?" asked Colonel Anderson. "Well, I haven't heard anything later than I have told you, but my personal opinion is that Bulgaria, sooner or later, will join the Germans." "Fools," said Colonel Anderson, briefly. "And Greece?" inquired Chester. "I don't know, but I believe Greece will keep out of the war just as long as she possibly can. Certainly, the Greek people will never consent to aiding the Germans." "You never can tell," said Colonel Anderson sententiously. Outside the tent it was now growing light, for time had passed swiftly. Hal noticed the light filtering in. "Great Scott! I had no idea it was morning," he said. "It must have been after midnight when we awoke. Let's get outside." They left the tent and Hal went into their own quarters a moment, where he found Stubbs up and about to emerge. Together the five walked toward the eastern extremity of the camp. Came a sudden blaring of trumpets and a body of horse swept toward them. The riders drew rein almost before the friends, dismounted and stood at attention, while a figure who had been in the center also jumped to the ground. This figure of huge stature, a man of advanced age, who dismounted nimbly in spite of his years, walked toward the spot where stood the five friends. Edwards came to attention, as did the others. "The king!" said Colonel Edwards in a low voice. CHAPTER IV. INTO THE MOUNTAINS. Nicholas, king of the Montenegrins, came forward slowly, his head bowed as though in grief, and it seemed for a moment as though he would pass Hal, Chester and the others without seeing them. But even as he drew abreast of the five, he looked up suddenly. His gaze rested upon Colonel Edwards and the Englishman bowed low. Colonel Anderson did likewise. Hal, Chester and Stubbs remained erect. The king smiled slightly at Colonel Edwards, whom he plainly knew, and glanced inquiringly at the others. Colonel Edwards approached him. "Your majesty," he said, "I would crave your permission to present another of my countrymen and three Americans, who have seen service with your allies in the western theater of war." The king nodded his head affirmatively and Colonel Edwards motioned the others to approach. The king extended a hand to each and spoke a few pleasant words. "I hope," he said, "that you will make yourselves perfectly at home in my camp. I am sorry I have no better to offer you." He turned to Edwards. "I have faith in you English," he said, "and for that reason I was about to summon you this morning. I have a mission of importance, and some danger, I would have you undertake." "I shall be pleased, sire" replied Colonel Edwards with a bow. The king smiled. "I knew you would be," he said. "Now this mission will necessitate probably more than a single man. You shall pick the others. It seems simple, but I can assure you it is not. Among the Albanian tribesmen, I am told, there is a disposition to doubt the justice of our cause and the cause of our allies. A spirit of unrest is rife there. I would have it looked into. I have faith in the majority of the Albanians, but a few agitators could do much harm right now. The reason I say one man could hardly undertake the task is that he would hardly have time to cover the necessary ground. Two might do; even more would be better." At this point Colonel Anderson stepped forward. "If you please, your majesty," he said, and hesitated. "Speak, sir," said the king. "If you please, your majesty," Colonel Anderson repeated, "it would give me, and my friends here, the utmost pleasure to be of some slight service to you. With your permission, we shall offer our services to Colonel Edwards." A smile stole over the king's rugged face. "I have always said," he declared, "that the British and the Americans come nearer to being like my own people than any others. You have my permission, sir, for yourself and your friends, and I have no doubt of the success of the mission." He turned again to Colonel Edwards. "You will make all possible haste?" "What we may, with caution," was the reply. "Good. Then I shall expect you back within the week." Again all bowed before the king and after a few words of farewell the Montenegrin monarch resumed his walk. "Well, I feel better now," declared Hal. "We've got something to do, so we won't feel as though we had no business here." "My sentiments, exactly," agreed Chester. "Well, they are not mine," declared Stubbs. "Say! what's the matter with you fellows, anyhow? Look at all the trouble we had finding a safe place to come down, and now you are running around looking for more trouble. You are not going to get Anthony Stubbs into any Albanian mountains, I can tell you that." "You don't have to go if you don't want to, I'm sure," said Colonel Anderson stiffly. "I had no idea you were afraid." "Afraid!" echoed Stubbs. "And why shouldn't I be afraid, I ask you? Why shouldn't I be afraid, eh? I don't know anything about mountains. I don't know anything about mountaineers. I don't want to know anything about any of them. All I want to do is--" "Get a little news for the _New York Gazette_," Chester interrupted. "Eh?" exclaimed Stubbs. "What's that? News? Sure, I've got to get some news. By George! Might be a good feature story up in those mountains." He turned to Colonel Edwards. "Count me in on this little trip, will you?" he said. Colonel Edwards hesitated. He didn't know Stubbs as well as the others. "Well--" he began. "Oh, he's all right, Colonel," said Hal. "It's just his way. He's no coward. He is no more afraid than you are." "Don't you believe it, Colonel," said Stubbs. "I assure you I am scared to death. But I am more afraid of losing my job with the _New York Gazette_ than I am of these Albanian mountaineers, so if I go I am just choosing the lesser of two evils. I want to go with you fellows. But please remember one thing: I'm no fighter. If it comes to a fight, you can count me out; but if it's a question of run--well, you'll find me with you, or far ahead." "Then if the others have no objections, I am sure that I shall be pleased to have you accompany us," said Colonel Edwards. "And when shall we start?" asked Hal. "Just as soon as we can." "Walk, ride, or what?" "Horses, until we reach the top of the mountains. Then we'll walk. Also, we will discard our uniforms--anyhow, I don't imagine you like the cut of those Austrian garments." "I don't, and that's the truth," Hal agreed. "Good. We'll change immediately. You go to my quarters and wait. I'll rustle up some civilian clothes and have them sent you. Also I'll arrange for our mounts and other details. I'll meet you here two hours from now." With this Colonel Edwards betook himself away and the others returned to his quarters. Half an hour later the clothes arrived and the four friends hastened to climb into them, Stubbs the while muttering to himself. "Great Scott, Stubbs!" said Hal at last. "Quit your grumbling. Any one would think you were going to a funeral." "And so I am--maybe," returned the little man. "And what worries me is that it is likely to be my own." "You are a cheerful sort of a companion, I must say," declared Chester. "What's the use of yelling before you are hurt?" "Because I probably won't be able to afterwards," was the reply. Colonel Edwards was waiting when the four made their way to the appointed spot. The horses were picketed nearby. "All ready?" asked the colonel. "Guns? Ammunition?" All nodded. "Then there is no use waiting longer. We may as well be moving." He led the way to the horses and leaped lightly to the saddle. The others followed suit. Edwards waited until all were mounted and then headed his horse toward the north. "Let us ride," he said. All through the morning hours and well into the afternoon they rode along without adventure. They were challenged several times by Montenegrin outposts, but were allowed to proceed after an explanation by Colonel Edwards. It was four o'clock by Hal's watch when Colonel Edwards at last drew rein in the far outskirts of a tiny mountain village. "We'll leave our horses here," said the colonel, dismounting. He led the way to a small barn near a smaller hut. Approaching the hut he gave a loud whistle. A man emerged and Colonel Edwards engaged him in conversation. At length the man nodded. Colonel Edwards turned to the others. "We'll turn our horses over to him," he said. "I told him we would be back within seven days and wanted him to keep the animals here for us. He has agreed." "But will he?" asked Hal. Colonel Edwards shrugged his shoulders. "You know as much about it as I do," he replied. "However, we have no choice." "Well, they might come in handy if we get back," declared Stubbs. "When we return this far we are liable to be in considerable of a hurry, and if the horses were not here it would be a terrible disappointment for us, at least. If we come back, we'll probably come on the run." "And why will we come on the run?" Chester wanted to know. "Bayonets behind," returned Stubbs briefly. "Rifles, revolvers and whatnots. Oh, yes, we'll--" "Stubbs," said Hal severely, "you would be a kill-joy at any feast. When it comes to plain, downright pessimism, you take the cake. Your equal does not exist." "I'm glad to hear you say I'm good for something," muttered Stubbs. "Well, if a pessimist is good for anything, you come first always," said Chester. By this time the mountaineer had stabled their horses. Colonel Edwards gave him a piece of money, and mumbling his thanks, the man moved away. "Which way?" asked Colonel Anderson. Colonel Edwards drew a small map from his pocket, which he consulted for some moments. "About five miles straight along this mountain road," he said at last. "There we cross the Albanian frontier, and there, also, we part company, or some of us do. Some of us will strike off to the right and the others to the left. You know what his majesty said. We would not learn much if we all went together." "True," returned Hal. "Well, let's be moving." They trudged along the rough, hilly road at a fair gait; but the walking was difficult and it was almost two hours later that Colonel Edwards again called a halt at what appeared to be a fork in the mountain pass. "We'll split up here," he said briefly. "And how?" asked Chester. "That's up to you fellows. Of course, I'll take charge of one party, and I suppose Colonel Anderson should be entrusted with the other." "Of course," said Chester. "I'll go with Colonel Anderson. Hal and Stubbs can go with you." "One way as well as another," was the reply. And so it was decided. There was a last handshake all around and the two parties went their separate ways--Colonel Anderson and Chester taking the more level trail to the right, and Colonel Edwards, Hal and Stubbs moving off along the rough pass to the left, leading more abruptly upward. CHAPTER V. A SHOT FROM AMBUSH. Up, up and still up the road that Colonel Edwards, Hal and Stubbs had selected continued, winding first to the right and then to the left until all three had practically lost all sense of direction. Hal mentioned this. "Don't know just where we are," he said. "No," agreed Colonel Edwards. "However, it doesn't make much difference. We'll be around here for several days. Chances are the sun will come out before we get ready to leave and then we can get our bearings." "Maybe there won't be any sun," said Stubbs. "There you go again," said Hal. "Of course there'll be a sun. What's the use of hunting trouble?" "I'm not hunting trouble," Stubbs disclaimed. "I just said maybe there won't be any sun." Hal threw up both hands in a gesture of dismay. "You're beyond hope," he declared. After what seemed like hours of climbing, though in reality it was not more than two at the most, the three reached what apparently was the top of the mountain, and the road stretched out level ahead of them, heavily shaded on both sides with trees. "Nice place for a fellow to hide and shoot a man," said Stubbs almost cheerfully. Hal just looked at the little man but said nothing. Edwards grinned. "Real cheerful little fellow, aren't you?" he said dryly. Stubbs grinned back at him. "I just said--" he began. "We heard you," interrupted Hal. The three trudged along silently for a few moments. Then, coming to a place where the trees crowded the road even closer and the branches hung low across their path, Stubbs again broke the silence. "An assassin--" he began. The interruption this time came from another source. The little man's hat suddenly leaped from his head. There was the low whine of a bullet and a rifle cracked from the woods on the left. Stubbs threw himself to the ground almost before his hat settled near him and he gave a loud cry. "Help!" Startled though they were by the unexpectedness of the attack, Colonel Edwards and Hal acted promptly. A revolver flashed in the hand of each and both fired into the woods toward the point from which the shot had come. Then they leaped for shelter among the trees that lined the road on the right. Stubbs, for the moment forgotten, still lay in the road and seemed to be attempting to bury his head in the dirt. Hal, now sheltered by trees, perceived the little man's plight. "Can't leave him there," he called to Edwards. "Cover me if you can." Edwards nodded and held his revolver ready. Hal dashed quickly from his shelter, grasped Stubbs by the right arm, jerked him violently to his feet and turned his face toward the woods on the right. Stubbs seemed too frightened to realize in what direction lay safety, and breaking from Hal's hold, whirled about and dashed across the road, almost directly toward the spot from whence had come the shot a few moments before. Hal gave a cry of dismay and dashed after him. But even as he would have given chase, there came a second rifle shot from the trees and Hal felt the breeze as a bullet sped by his ear. At the same moment Edwards yelled: "Come back!" Hal wasted no time in thought. He obeyed Edwards' command and dashed back to shelter with all speed. "Whew!" he muttered. "That was pretty close." "Rather," agreed Edwards dryly. "Where did the little man get to?" "Oh, he's over there with our unseen enemy some place. He got away from me." "I saw him," said Edwards grimly. "He's likely to have a warm time on the other side of the road." Hal grinned in spite of himself, as he replied: "He is that. I suppose we should do something to help him, but I am frank to say I don't know just what." "We'll have to figure some way to get rid of that fellow," said Edwards. "He's dangerous. Apparently there is only one." "Tell you what," said Hal, "you stick here. I'll sneak through the trees here for a quarter of a mile, cross the road and double back. If I can go quietly enough perhaps I can catch him off his guard." Edwards considered this plan. "Might be done," he said finally. "I don't think of anything else. Off with you then." Hal walked still deeper into the woods and then turned to his left. Keeping himself well screened from the road he made his way carefully and silently along. At last, when he felt sure that he could no longer be seen by their unexpected foe, he approached the road again. The lad poked his head out cautiously and, after a quick glance back to make sure there was no one in sight, crossed the road at a bound, almost expecting as he did so to hear a bullet whiz near. No bullet came. Once safe on the other side, the lad turned again to his left and doubled back. He went more cautiously now, making sure of each footstep that he might not warn the unseen foe of his approach. In the woods there was the silence of death. Hal, moving slowly forward, now felt that he must have reached the point from which the two shots had been fired and stopped and listened intently. Once he thought he heard the sound of a snapping twig and became perfectly quiet, waiting for the sound to be repeated; but it did not come again. "Guess I must have been mistaken," the lad told himself, as he moved forward again. Five minutes later Hal stopped suddenly in his tracks. He had heard a sound close at hand and knew he was not mistaken this time. A twig had snapped perhaps twenty yards to his right and as far ahead. Hal grasped his automatic more firmly. "Hope I get the first shot," he muttered. Suddenly he caught sight of a form as it flitted from one tree to another. Quickly the lad raised his revolver and fired. There was no outcry, and looking again, the lad saw no one. "Missed him," he muttered. "Well, I've betrayed myself! Now I'll have to be more careful." He lay down upon the ground behind the tree where he had taken shelter and waited patiently. Ten minutes later he thought he saw an object move behind a tree a scant fifteen yards away. Again the lad fired. This shot was followed by a startled cry as a figure leaped to its feet and started off through the woods at full speed. Hal sprang to his feet. "Halt!" he cried. The figure seemed to run faster than before. Hal paused and leveled his revolver in deliberate aim. His finger tightened on the trigger--then, suddenly he let his arm fall. "Stubbs!" he cried in amazement. The running figure was indeed the little war correspondent. "By Jove!" muttered Hal. "Another moment and I would have shot him." He raised his voice in a shout: "Hey, Stubbs!" But the little man ran on, unheeding. "He'll run right smack into that other fellow if he doesn't watch out," Hal told himself. "Well, I suppose I'll have to stop him." Still holding his revolver in his right hand, he also broke into a run and made after the fleeing Stubbs. Several times he called, but Stubbs paid no heed. Then Hal grew angry. "I'll get you if I have to chase you right back to the door of the _New York Gazette_" he muttered to himself. He gained at every stride and was rapidly overtaking the war correspondent, although Stubbs, with head lowered, looking neither to the right nor to the left, his arms working like pistons, ran blindly on. Suddenly Hal stopped almost in his tracks and his heart leaped into his throat. From behind a tree directly in Stubbs' path, stepped a short squat figure, with great long arms dangling at its side. A revolver was clasped in the right hand and the weapon was slowly raised until it covered Stubbs. Hal gave a loud cry of warning, raised his own revolver and fired. But even as his finger tightened on the trigger he knew he had missed. Stubbs was so close to the other figure that the lad had been afraid of hitting him. Consequently the bullet went wild. But though it missed its mark, Hal's bullet undoubtedly saved Stubbs' life, for it attracted the attention of the enemy for a brief moment; and in that moment, Anthony Stubbs, still unaware of the danger that confronted him, dashed head first into his would-be slayer. So great was the force of the impact that both were hurled to the ground. With rare presence of mind, Stubbs, recovering his breath before his unexpected opponent realized what had happened, reached out and procured the other's revolver and hurled it aside. Then he attempted to get to his feet, but at this point the other came back to life and seized him by the legs. "Hey! Leggo my legs!" shouted Stubbs. The other held him tightly. "Let me up!" cried Stubbs again. Still the other clung fast, while Stubbs raised a cry for help. At this juncture Hal reached the combatants. He was about to lend a hand, when he saw that Stubbs' opponent was unarmed, and drew back. Stubbs did not see him, and apparently believing that he was to get no help, he turned to give battle. He kicked out with his left foot and the foot came free. He followed suit with the right foot and felt it strike something soft. At the same moment there came a cry of pain from Stubbs' opponent and the grasp upon his other leg relaxed. Quickly the little man leaped to his feet and darted toward the spot where he had thrown the revolver. He snatched it up and leveled it at his adversary. "Hands up there!" he called. There came a choking cry from the queer figure and the long arms were raised high in the air. "Good for you, Stubbs!" cried Hal at this juncture. Stubbs gazed about sharply. "About time you were getting here," he said. "I had a terrible fight with this fellow." CHAPTER VI. A STRANGE ENCOUNTER. Hal laughed aloud. "Terrible fight, eh?" he exclaimed. "Of course you did. What else could you do? You had to fight. Pretty lucky, Stubbs." "Lucky!" echoed Stubbs. "What do you mean, lucky? If you had been here in time to see me tackle this fellow you would have known what a hard time I had." "I saw you," replied Hal. "You can put down your gun, now. I'll take care of this fellow." He leveled his own revolver at the queer-looking creature before him and Stubbs placed his newly-acquired revolver in his coat pocket. Hal motioned to his prisoner to approach. The latter did so with an ugly scowl on his face. He seemed not to have the slightest fear and came up to the lad unflinchingly. "Speak English?" asked Hal. There was no reply. "French?" The man nodded. "Who are you?" demanded Hal. "Nikol." "Nikol what?" The man did not reply, and Hal surveyed him critically. He was at least thirty-five years of age, could not have been an inch more than four feet in height, and his long, knotted arms, apparently as strong as a gorilla's, reached almost to the ground, where his huge hand clasped and unclasped nervously. Involuntarily Hal shuddered. "Must be as strong as an ox," the lad muttered. "Lucky for Stubbs he kicked at the right time and happened to land." "What's your last name?" the lad demanded again. "Haven't any," was the reply. "What are you, an Albanian?" "Yes." "What are you doing here?" The man did not reply. Stubbs had been an interesting listener to the conversation and became decidedly impatient when the dwarf refused to answer Hal's questions. "Why don't you speak?" he demanded aggressively, taking a step forward. He felt perfectly safe now that Hal had the man covered. Instantly there was an unexpected change in the dwarf's manner. He stepped back a pace and bowed his head before the angry Stubbs. "I did not know that you wished me to answer," he replied civilly. "I will talk to you, for you are the first man who has ever conquered me; and you are a small man, too--a dwarf." "What's that?" exclaimed Stubbs still more angrily, for "the dwarf" had touched upon a tender spot. "Dwarf, am I? What do you mean by talking to me like that?" Again he took a step forward and the Albanian drew back. "You will please excuse me," he said humbly. "I did not mean to offend. For myself I am proud that I am a dwarf and I was glad that it was one of my own kind who conquered me." Stubbs, greatly flattered, threw out his chest and turned to Hal. "You see," he exclaimed, "if you have any doubts as to how I overcame this man, he will tell you himself. Won't you, Nik--Nikol?" Nikol bowed. "I will, sir," he replied. "Well, you seem to have done a good job," Hal replied. "I don't believe I could have overcome him. In fact, I am sure of it. Now if you will kindly order your newly made slave to answer my questions, perhaps we may learn something." Stubbs gave the order in the tone of a man born to command and the dwarf nodded his understanding. "If my boss knew I could give orders like that, I'd have a better job," was Stubbs' comment as Hal turned to Nikol. "What are your sympathies in this war?" asked the lad quietly. "My sympathies," was the reply, "I have kept locked up here," and Nikol tapped his breast with one of his huge fingers. "But, now that my conqueror requests me to talk, I will tell you. My sympathies are with Montenegro; always have been and always will be." "Good!" exclaimed Hal. "Then perhaps you can tell me something of the Austrian sentiment in these mountains." "The Austrian sympathy is very strong," was the reply. "Not so much here as further north. Thousands of tribesmen there are only awaiting the arrival of the Austrians to join their ranks. Some have joined already." "And is there not danger for a man of your sympathies in these parts?" The Albanian shrugged his shoulders. "I have said," he replied, "that I keep my sympathies locked up here," and again he tapped his breast. Hal was silent for a few moments, considering a plan that had come to him. At length he turned to Stubbs. "Will you ask your newly made friend," he said, "if he will join us? He will be invaluable. He can lead us where we would go without question." Stubbs grasped the situation instantly. He put the question to the Albanian. For long minutes the man hesitated, and then he, in turn, asked a question. "You say that you are working in the interests of Montenegro?" he asked. "I can give you my word," replied Stubbs soberly. The dwarf extended a hand to Stubbs and looked him in the eye. "Such men as you, such fighters as you, do not lie," he said gravely. Stubbs blushed like a schoolboy as he extended a hand, which was seized in a grip that brought tears to the little man's eyes. But he bore the pain bravely, for he did not wish to lose caste in the eyes of his new admirer. "Come then," said Hal. "We'll pick up Colonel Edwards again and be moving." He led the way back to where the first shot had been fired and raised his voice in a shout: "All right, Edwards?" "All right," was the reply. "I've caught the enemy," explained Hal. "You can come from under cover." He led the way to the road and a moment later Colonel Edwards joined them. "What have we here?" he exclaimed, after a glance at the dwarf. "A guide," replied Hal; "the same being the man who fired at us, and also Stubbs' own prisoner." "Stubbs' prisoner?" "Exactly. He captured him single-handed." Colonel Edwards eyed Stubbs in the greatest surprise, until Hal explained in a low voice, so that neither Stubbs nor the dwarf might hear. "Well, we may as well be moving then," said Colonel Edwards. "Have your guide take the lead, Stubbs." Stubbs, undeniably proud at the honor now being bestowed upon him, did as requested, and the dwarf led the way down the road at a rapid gait. Hour after hour they walked along encountering no one, until shortly before nightfall when they drew up near a small hut. Here Nikol went forward and secured food, which he brought back in his hands. This they devoured hungrily, drank from a little brook, and moved forward again. Now Nikol deserted the beaten path and struck off through the mountains proper, climbing steep hills, leaping ruts and gullies, rocks and brooks, but making such good progress that the others were hard pressed to keep up with him. Darkness fell suddenly and Stubbs shuddered. "Nice place for an assassin here, too," he muttered gloomily. "Back at it, are you?" said Hal. "What will your friend Nikol say?" Stubbs did not reply. Suddenly the dwarf halted and motioned the others to silence. All listened intently and directly made out what the sharp ears of Nikol had caught first--the sound of approaching footsteps. Nikol motioned the others back into the shadow of a great rock and stepped boldly forward. Then he hesitated a moment, came back and spoke to Stubbs in a low voice, yet loud enough for the others to hear. "If I should chance to be outmatched," he said, "you will come to my assistance? The others," he snapped his fingers, "are no good. You will come?" Taken wholly off his guard, Stubbs stuttered and stammered. "You will come?" Nikol repeated again. "Ye-e-s, I'll come," Stubbs articulated at last. Nikol wasted no further time in words, but moved forward perhaps a hundred yards. Then he halted and stood still, waiting. The sound of footsteps drew nearer and still nearer, and then suddenly Nikol sprang forward, silently and swiftly. There came a sudden startled cry from ahead and then a great, boisterous laugh. "Ho! Ho!" exclaimed a voice in French. "Look what has attacked Ivan Vergoff." For some reason that he could not explain, Hal left his place of concealment and moved toward the combatants. The others followed him. "Ho! Ho!" came the great voice again. "Ivan Vergoff, the greatest of the Cossacks, attacked by this puny pygmy." Hal had now approached close enough to see the gigantic figure of Nikol's antagonist and to witness the struggle. The giant had stooped over and seized Nikol by one arm. He pulled, but the dwarf, his feet firmly planted on the ground, did not budge. It was a great exhibition of strength, for Hal knew that the stranger must be a powerful man. This time the giant did not laugh. "A strong man," he muttered aloud. "A strong man, though he be a pygmy." He now extended another arm, seized the dwarf around the middle and lifted him high above his head. With his right arm the dwarf struck the face that gazed up at him as he was suspended high in the air. The big man gave a roar like that of an angry bull, hurled the dwarf from him and then jumped after the flying figure with remarkable agility for a man of his huge size. But even as he would have seized Nikol again, Hal stepped forward. "Wait!" cried the lad, who had been doing some quick thinking. "Your name is Ivan Vergoff and you are a Cossack?" The big man paused suddenly and glanced about him. "Yes!" he shouted. "What of it?" "Only," replied Hal quietly, "that I bring you word of your brother, Alexis!" CHAPTER VII. NEW FRIENDS. The big man paused and turned an enquiring eye upon Hal, whom he could dimly perceive in the darkness. "Alexis!" he echoed. "What of him? How do you know I have a brother Alexis?" Hal replied rapidly in the Russian dialect which he had picked up during his service with the Cossacks, as told in the story of "The Boy Allies With the Cossacks," while the man listened intently. Then the giant set the dwarf upon his feet remarking: "Now, you just stay there a little while. I may have more to say to you later, but right now I would know something of my brother Alexis, whom I have not seen in years. And my brother Stephan, also, what do you know of him?" he demanded of Hal. The lad shook his head. "Not much," he said. "But come, we'll find some spot where we can make a fire and I'll tell you what I know of Alexis." "Good," boomed the big man. "Follow me." Without another word he turned on his heel and strode away whence he had come. The other four followed him, Nikol the while muttering angrily to himself. Stubbs turned upon him suddenly. "What's the matter with you?" he demanded. "Don't you know it's cold here? I want to sit by the fire awhile. Keep still." The dwarf made no reply, but became silent. It was plain enough that he stood very much in awe of Stubbs. After a five-minute walk through the dark woods, the big Cossack wheeled sharply to the left, and walking swiftly for perhaps fifty yards drew up before what appeared to be a solid rock. Looking closer in the darkness, however, Hal saw a slight opening at the bottom, the space between the rock and the ground being perhaps three feet. The rock, apparently, rested upon more solid ground farther back. "Follow me," said the big man again. He dropped on his hands and knees and wriggled through the opening. At this point Stubbs manifested a desire to leave the others in the lurch. "Say!" he exclaimed. "You're not going to get me under there. How do you know what he may have in mind to do to us?" "Come, Stubbs," said Hal. "Don't be a quitter all the time. Nothing is going to hurt--" Before he could finish his sentence he felt himself seized in a powerful grip from behind. He twisted about with an effort and looked down upon the scowling face of Nikol. "Here! What's the matter?" he cried. The dwarf grinned at him evilly, and still retaining his hold, gazed at Stubbs. "He insulted you," he said. "What shall I do with him?" "Great Scott! Let him down!" exclaimed the little man, anxiously. "He didn't do anything to me." "But he insulted you," protested Nikol. "I heard him say--" "Oh, that was just in fun," cried Stubbs. "Let him go." The dwarf's hold relaxed and Hal jumped away. "Don't try any of that on me again," he said, facing Nikol angrily. He turned to Stubbs. "You just instruct this fellow to keep his hands off me, or I shall have to take my gun to him." "Oh, he didn't mean any harm," Stubbs protested. "Maybe he didn't and maybe he did," replied Hal. "At any rate, I don't like that kind of treatment. You tell him what I said." "He was just sticking up for me," said Stubbs, aggrievedly. "But I'll tell him." He did so, but the dwarf said nothing. At this juncture the big Cossack poked his head from beneath the rock. "Are you coming in here or not?" he demanded in a gruff voice. "Coming," said Hal, dropping to his knees. "Look here, Hal," said Stubbs, "I don't like the looks of this place. Maybe we had better stay outside." "Nonsense," Edwards spoke up at this point. "The man means us no harm." Hal had disappeared beneath the rock and Edwards dropped to his knees and crawled after him. "Well," said Stubbs to himself, "I don't like this, but I guess I might as well go along." Motioning Nikol to follow him, he, too, dropped to all fours and crawled slowly beneath the big rock. Beyond the rock, a brisk fire made dimly visible what appeared to be a large cavern. The fire seemed to be in the exact center of a large underground room and beyond it Hal thought he could make out the mouths of dark passageways that led off in several directions. "Come up to the fire and get warm," the big Cossack invited. The others accepted the invitation, first discarding their heavy outer garments. When all appeared comfortable, the big Cossack spoke. "Now," he said, addressing Hal, "tell me of Alexis. He is--" "Dead," Hal interrupted quietly. Ivan sprang to his feet. "Dead!" he shouted. "And you dare to tell it to me? You, no doubt, had a hand in his death!" "On the contrary," returned the lad quietly, "I tried to save him, as did my chum; but it was too late. But he died like a brave man and a true Cossack." Ivan was silent for several moments, and then said sneeringly: "And what do you know of the Cossacks?" "Well, very little, to be sure," Hal confessed, "though, for a short time, I had the honor of serving in a Cossack regiment." "What, you?" exclaimed Ivan incredulously. "Impossible." "No; what I say is true," said Hal. "And it was there that I met your brother Alexis, than whom I have never seen a braver man." "'Tis true," muttered Ivan. "Alexis was ever a brave man, though much given to boasting. Also, barring perhaps myself, he was the most powerful man I have ever seen." "He was indeed," replied Hal, "and it will give me pleasure at some time to relate to you some of the remarkable feats I have seen him accomplish." "Alexis has related enough," returned Ivan dryly. "But come, now, tell me what you know of him." "Well," Hal began, "I met Alexis first--" He stopped suddenly and listened attentively. "What was that?" he demanded. "What?" asked Edwards. "I thought I heard a voice calling. Sounded like a cry for help." Ivan broke into a loud laugh. "Ho! Ho!" he cried. "Guess you heard my prisoners." "Prisoners?" Hal repeated inquiringly. "Yes. I came across them this afternoon. They sought to ply me with questions. I treated them respectfully enough, but when they continued to plague me, I just picked them up and brought them here. I have a suspicion they may be Austrian spies and if there is one race of men for whom I have no use, it is the Austrians. But they do not annoy you, do they? If so, I shall go back and have a word with them. After that I assure you they will annoy you no more." "Oh, no," Hal hastened to say. "They do not annoy me in the slightest. But what do you intend to do with them?" "Well, I don't know exactly," returned Ivan. "You know I have read somewhat, and I remember the things I have read. For instance now, I would like to be like one of the old kings, or say even a present-day American, of whom I have heard much. They have slaves and things. Why not make my prisoners my slaves?" "I assure you you are wrong about the Americans," said Hal. "I chance to be one myself, so I know. Of kings, I cannot say." "Never mind," said Ivan. "We'll attend to them later on. Right now I have a desire to hear your story. Proceed." Hal did so. He related his and Chester's first meeting with Alexis, the big brave-hearted man who had once played an important part in their lives, as related in "The Boy Allies With the Cossacks." He told of the many exciting adventures the three had gone through together. And as the lad progressed with his narrative, Ivan became more interested with each word; and by the time Hal had come to an account of his brother's last great fight, Ivan was on his feet, his face glowing. "By St. George!" he cried. "I knew he could do it. Boaster or not, he was a brave man. But go on. And after he had killed the three Germans there on the sand, then what?" "Why, then," said Hal, "a German bullet struck him in the right shoulder; a moment later another lodged in his right side. But Alexis did not pause. He rushed right into the thick of them, using his now empty pistols and at last striking out with his bare fists. Men tumbled on all sides. "From behind and from both sides, the Germans darted at him, firing their revolvers and stabbing him with the swords. By this time, we had finished repairing our machine and we rushed to his aid, and for a moment the Germans gave back. Then they closed in and we were all hard pressed. Alexis was bleeding in a dozen places but he fought on. And then aid came from an unexpected source." "Where?" demanded Ivan excitedly. "Troops," replied Hal. "Troops sent to protect the neutrality of the country; and with their approach the Germans who were still upon their feet fled. Chester and I dragged Alexis to our own craft and we also ascended. There we did what we could for him, but he realized that he was past aid, and he died as a brave man should. We buried him in England with honor, and with him the Cross of St. George, personally bestowed upon him by the Czar." For a long time after the lad had finished, Ivan was silent. Then he said, his fists clenching: "I would I had been there! There would have been a different story to tell!" Hal was about to reply, but a voice sounded suddenly. Hal pricked up his ears. Surely he recognized that voice. The cry came again. "Chester!" shouted Hal, and sprang to his feet. CHAPTER VIII. A DESPERATE VENTURE. Before Ivan could raise a hand to stay him, had such been his intention, Hal had darted across the cavern in the direction from which had come the sound he had recognized as Chester's voice. It was very dark there and the lad could not make out his surroundings, but he seemed to have brought up against a solid wall. He explored the smooth surface with his hands, but could find no opening in that particular spot. Then he came upon one of the narrow passageways and entered it without hesitation, for he believed it was in that direction he would find Chester. Now heavy footsteps sounded behind him and Ivan's voice roared: "Where are you going?" "It is Chester--my friend who was with me when Alexis died," returned Hal. "I heard his voice. He must be near some place and in trouble." "Ho!" said Ivan. "He will be one of my prisoners, I expect. I remember that one was rather young." "Well, let him out, will you?" exclaimed Hal. "Certainly," returned Ivan. He passed Hal and led the way down the dark passage. Presently Hal heard a huge rock move and then footsteps came toward him. "Who is it?" he asked. There came a cry of surprise. "That you, Hal?" came in Chester's voice. "How on earth did you get here?" "That's rather a long story," replied Hal, "but it seems that it's a good thing I did get here. I thought a heard a sound awhile back. It must have been you." "Anderson and I have been yelling for the last week, it seems," said Chester ruefully. "We didn't hope to be fortunate enough to raise you, but we thought some one might hear us." "Well, come on out here to the fire--and you, too, Colonel," his last to Colonel Anderson, who now came forward, closely followed by Ivan. They needed no urging, for they had been shut up in the cold so long that they were almost frozen. Introductions now followed all around and Ivan seemed genuinely pleased to meet Chester. He was profuse in his apologies for his rough treatment, while Chester was dumbfounded to learn that his captor was the brother of his old friend Alexis. They shook hands heartily. "If you had not pestered me with so many questions, I would not have bothered you," Ivan explained. "To tell the truth, I took you for a couple of Austrian spies." "Tell us, Chester," said Hal, "what have you learned?" "Learned?" echoed Chester. "We haven't learned anything, except that it is awfully cold in these mountains. I'm going to tell you right now, it's no fun being locked up in an icebox." "It is not," Colonel Anderson agreed dryly, stretching his feet out to the fire. "I'll tell you how it came about," said Chester, smiling at Ivan. "Colonel Anderson and I had just completed a most terrible climb. Coming once again to a level spot we sat down to rest. We saw a man coming along--a big man, none other than Ivan here. I suggested that we ask him a few questions." "You asked them, all right," said Ivan. "Well," Chester continued, "he didn't tell us much. In fact, he was as mum as an oyster. Colonel Anderson took a hand with no better luck. It seems that between us we talked too much. Ivan here didn't like it. He said he guessed he'd have to take us along with him. We said we were satisfied to stay where we were. This didn't suit Ivan. He reached for me and I dodged; but with his other hand he grabbed Anderson and held him helpless. "I drew my gun but I was afraid to fire for fear of hitting the Colonel. I thought I would rap the big man over the head with the butt of the weapon. I ventured a trifle too close and he nailed me, too. He shook me so hard that I dropped my gun. Anderson hadn't been able to get at his. Then Ivan relieved him of it, and still holding us each by an arm, he brought us here. "When he shoved us under the rock ahead of him, we decided to jump him if he came in. We jumped him. It didn't do much good, did it, Colonel?" Chester turned to Colonel Anderson with a smile. "Not much," was the Colonel's dry response. Ivan grinned sheepishly. "I didn't mean to hurt you too much," he said. "You see, sometimes I don't realize my own strength. I guess maybe I squeezed your arms too hard." "Well, now tell us about yourself, Hal," said Chester, "and who is this little fellow who hangs so close to Stubbs?" "This little fellow," returned Hal, "has appointed himself Stubbs' best friend. Stubbs overcame him in fair fight this afternoon and he thinks Stubbs is a great man." "Well, what's the matter?" Stubbs broke in. "Don't you?" "Of course," Hal hastened to assure him. Stubbs subsided grumbling. "The question now is," Colonel Edwards declared, "what are we going to do? There is no use staying here longer than we can possibly help. We had better be moving." "Hold on," shouted Ivan, jumping suddenly to his feet. "Tell me what it is you are going to do? Perhaps I may lend a hand. I know something of these mountains." Colonel Edwards glanced at Hal. The boy nodded. "Might be a good idea," he said. Then Colonel Edwards explained. Ivan heard him patiently. "Well," he said at length, "nothing would please me more than to join this expedition." He spoke to Hal. "You have told me of the service rendered the Czar by my brother Alexis. I am ashamed that I have been idling here in these mountains while my country needs me. I shall try and make up for it in the future. Now, I believe I can tell you what you want to know." "Then," asked Colonel Edwards, "is there a strong Austrian sentiment among the Albanians?" "Until a month ago there was little Austrian sentiment," returned Ivan, "But recently there has been a change, and the change I lay at the door of a single man." "An Albanian?" "It is even worse than that. The man is a Montenegrin. And still worse. He bears the same name as the king of Montenegro, Nicolas. He has, most likely, another name, but I do not know it." "But why should a Montenegrin seek to raise the enmity of the Albanians against his own people?" Chester demanded. "There is but one reason--gold," said Ivan simply. "And his methods?" inquired Colonel Anderson. "More gold," was the reply. "I see," said Colonel Anderson. "Furnished by the Austrians, eh?" "How else? I have had several interviews with this Nicolas. He seems to think I could be of use to him. In fact, he has made me offers. But while I have taken no part in active fighting, although I admit I have neglected my own country, I have not fallen low enough for that sort of work. However, I did not tell Nicolas that. I temporized with him and I suppose he believes he can win me over if he cares to make his offer tempting enough." "All this," said Hal slowly, "suggests a plan." "Well?" said Chester, expectantly. "And by this plan of mine," Hal continued, "we may accomplish even more than we set out to do." "Explain, Hal," said Colonel Anderson. "It's very simple. We'll have Ivan take us to Nicolas. He can tell him we are Germans, or what you please. Being, apparently, friends of Ivan's, we shall be received. Then Ivan can appear to fall in with his plans. At the first opportune moment, we shall take charge of Mr. Nicolas and escape." "H-m-m-m," mused Colonel Edwards. "You say all that easily enough, but you can take my word for it, it will be no small job." "Of course not," Chester agreed, "but still we should be able to do it. And if we do, we shall have removed the cause of the Albanian enmity toward Montenegro. There will be no such strong Austrian sentiment once the supply of gold is cut off." Ivan jumped to his feet and clapped the lad on the back. "Good!" he exclaimed eagerly. "I'm with you; and if it comes to a fight, you will find that you can use me to advantage." "I am sure of it," smiled Hal. Ivan, in turning, cast his eye upon the little dwarfed figure of Nikol. He walked quickly toward him and extended a hand. "We didn't finish our little argument awhile ago," he said simply. "I see no reason why we should finish it. Why should we fight each other when there are others to fight?" He turned to Hal. "I'll guarantee this man will give a good account of himself," he said. "I doubt if there is another man in the mountains, besides myself, who has his strength. He will prove his worth." He turned to Nikol again and the dwarf grinned at him, showing strong white teeth. "You are right," he said and gripped Ivan's hand hard. "Well then," said Colonel Edwards, "the sooner we get started the sooner we may get back again. When shall we start, Ivan?" "Immediately," was the reply, and the giant moved toward the mouth of the cavern. "Now, look-a-here, you fellows," said the voice of Anthony Stubbs. "I've been a whole lot of places with you and I hope to go with you a whole lot more, but I claim it is downright foolishness to stick our heads into a brigand's lair. What's the use? The best we can get is the worst of it." "Stubbs," said Hal quietly, "you don't have to go along if you don't want to. You can stay right here." "What?" exclaimed the little man. "Stay here by myself? I should say not. I don't want to stay here alone and I don't want to go hunting brigands. What I want to do is get some place where it's safe. I don't like this country, if you want to know it." "It's a good country," said Nikol abruptly. Stubbs looked at the dwarf in surprise. It was the first time the Albanian had talked back to him. "What do you know about it?" demanded Stubbs. "You never saw a regular country." The dwarf bowed his head in some confusion. Apparently Stubbs' spell still held good over him. "Come, Stubbs, don't be stubborn," said Chester. "Well, all right," said the little man, shaking his head sadly. "I'll go if the rest of you do, but I want to tell you right now, I protest!" CHAPTER IX. THE TRAITOR. "If I am not mistaken," said Ivan, "here comes Nicolas now." He pointed to a large, bearded individual, who, surrounded by probably a dozen other figures, was advancing toward them. The man swung along with the free and easy stride of the mountaineer, looking neither to the right nor to the left, his head erect and of haughty mien. "Pompous sort of a looking customer," said Colonel Anderson to Hal. "Rather," said the lad dryly. He glanced at the others, Colonel Edwards, Stubbs, Nikol, Ivan and Chester, and muttered hurriedly: "After this we must do all our talking in German." The others nodded their understanding and all fell silent as the Montenegrin traitor and his henchmen approached. It was the morning following the night upon which they had left Ivan's retreat. The journey had consumed the whole night, but in spite of their fatigue, each member of the party of seven was on his mettle. Now, as Nicolas drew closer, Ivan took a step in advance of the others to greet him. The traitor's face lighted with pleasure as he recognized the big Cossack. "Ah, Ivan," he said, "I am glad to see you." He noticed the others, and a slight frown flitted across his face. He swept his arm toward them in a comprehensive gesture. "Who are these?" "One of them you probably know," said Ivan and he indicated Nikol. Nikol nodded affirmatively. "The others," Ivan continued, "I came across in the mountains last night. They are Germans and were seeking you." "Seeking me?" exclaimed Nicolas in astonishment. "And why should they be seeking me?" "You will probably know," returned Ivan, "when I tell you they come from Germany." "Ah," said Nicolas. "Of course I know, Ivan. Will you have them come forward?" "One moment, Nicolas," said Ivan. "First I would have a word with you myself." "Proceed," said the Montenegrin. "Well, then," Ivan went on, "you may remember a certain proposal you have made me upon several occasions?" "I do," exclaimed Nicolas, with unfeigned eagerness. "Can it be that at last you have decided to--" "Accept?" interrupted Ivan. "Yes; I have decided to accept; and these Germans here have had something to do with my decision. They have told me how Germany and Austria combined will eventually win the great war and of the good things that will be in store for all of us when that day comes. You are right, Nicolas, it is well to be on the winning side." "And I am glad you see it that way," declared Nicolas, extending a hand, which Ivan grasped, much to his distaste. "I have long wanted a trusted lieutenant, and you shall be he." "Thanks, Nicolas," returned Ivan. "I had not expected that. Had you told me before it might have influenced me sooner. But now I shall have the others approach. By the way, you speak German?" "Yes." "Good; then there is no need of an interpreter." He raised his hand and at the signal the others came forward. Ivan presented each in turn, applying to each a German name that had been agreed upon during the night's travel. Nicolas expressed his pleasure at seeing them and after a few words of pleasantry, said: "Now, gentlemen, if you will accompany me to my quarters, I shall try and make you feel at home." As they walked along Hal and Chester took stock of the Montenegrin. Big he was, fully as tall and as broad as Ivan himself, and his great arms hung below his knees. He was the personification of rugged strength and brutality. From Nicolas the lads turned their eyes to Ivan. There was scarcely a noticeable difference in the stature of the two men and from casual observation it would have been hard to choose between them in the matter of strength. But the one noticeable difference was in the eyes. Ivan's eyes looked one straight in the face, while Nicolas' shifted uneasily when he was observed closely. It was the difference in the eyes that told the difference between the two men better than anything else. Presently Nicolas stopped before an extremely large hut, built up close beside a giant rock. He stood aside and motioned the others to enter. They did so and Nicolas, after a word to his men, came in after them and closed the door. Then he motioned them all to seats and sat down himself. He eyed his guests in silence for a few moments, and finally remarked: "Well?" Hal took it upon himself to do the talking. "First," he said, "we would like to know how you are progressing?" "Beautifully," was Nicolas' reply. "I have distributed the gold given me for that purpose, first, of course, taking out my own share. The Albanians, knowing the poverty of the Montenegrins, have been convinced by the gold that final success in this war must crown the Austrian arms. Austrian sentiment is becoming greater each day. But I need more money." "That is what we have come to see you about," said Hal. "You see, that while you are well informed as to just what is going on here, we have only your word for it. You may be telling the truth--and you may be lying." Nicolas jumped to his feet, his fingers twitching. "You dare--" he began. "Nonsense," said Hal, remaining perfectly quiet. "This is no time for heroics. I have come here to find out something and I am going to find it out. Now how much of this gold have you given out as ordered, and how much have you kept for yourself?" "I--I--well, I have--" Nicholas began. "As I thought," said Hal. "You have been holding out. We can't have anything like that, you know. Where is the gold?" Nicolas, for a moment, seemed about to make a denial, but Hal eyed him steadily, and he said at last: "It is under this floor here," and he tapped the floor with his foot. "All right," said Hal. "In shape to be carried?" "Why yes, I guess half a dozen men could carry it well enough." "I am glad to hear that," said Hal, "because I want you to dig it out right now." Again Nicolas started to protest, but apparently thinking better of it, changed his mind and said: "It shall be as you say. But you will not hold this against me, my having held some of the gold for my own?" "Not if you do as I say." "And I shall have more gold?" "We shall see; perhaps." "Then I shall uncover the other," said Nicolas. He stooped to his knees and lifted a loose board in the floor. "One moment," said Hal. "Your men outside. We can take no chances with them. If they knew you had all this gold stored here there would be a fight. Step outside and tell them to go away." This time Nicolas obeyed without even hesitating. While he was outside, Hal whispered quickly to the others: "There is no use delaying. We'll give his men time to get out of hearing and then we'll grab him." "But the gold, what are you going to do with that?" Ivan wanted to know. Hal smiled a bit. "I don't know how I happened to think of that," he said, "but now that we practically have it in our hands, I vote that we turn it over to the impoverished little kingdom of Montenegro." "By Jove! Good!" exclaimed Colonel Edwards. "My boy, you have a wonderful head on your shoulders. I am proud to know you." "Thanks," said Hal. "Now, as long as I have been doing the talking, I may as well continue. We'll keep quiet until we are sure this traitor's men are out of earshot and then we'll take possession of Mr. Nicolas and his unearned gold." A few moments later Nicolas re-entered the hut. "Get rid of them?" asked Hal, briefly. "Yes." "Good. Then get busy and bring your gold out." "Look here," said Nicolas, eyeing Hal somewhat angrily. "I don't like your tone exactly." "I don't exactly care whether you do or not," returned Hal quietly. "You are pretty small fry in this game, Nicolas, and I'm not afraid of you. Remember, if anything should happen to me, you'll have the German government on your trail, and then what would you do for gold?" Nicolas opened his mouth to reply; then thought better of it and closed his lips without uttering a sound. "All right, now that we understand each other," said Hal. "Get to work and produce the gold." Nicolas waited no further, but did as commanded. "One," counted Hal, as the man drew from beneath the board a little sack of gold. One after another Hal counted them as they were laid on the floor at his feet, until in all there were seventeen little sacks, just small enough to permit of being stowed away in outside coat pockets. "Two for each of us to carry," said Hal, looking around, "and one over. I'll carry the extra one in my hand." "And don't I get any of this?" demanded Nicolas, looking at the bags of gold longingly. "You do not," replied Hal, quietly. "This money is to be given where it will do the most good. You have had your chance with it. Now it is my turn." "Very well," said Nicolas, with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I have made my agreement with the Austrian government; and when the war has been won, I shall get my pay." "Perhaps," said Hal, with a double meaning, that was, of course, lost upon Nicolas, "you shall receive your just pay before the war ends." "Do you really think so?" asked Nicolas eagerly. "I hope so." "But now," said Hal, "it is time to be moving. Pick up the gold, men, and let's get away from here." The others obeyed. Each stowed two sacks in his pocket and Hal carried the seventeenth package in his hand. Then Hal motioned them out the door. He emerged after them and his hand was on his automatic as he did so. "Which way?" asked Chester. "Straight ahead," said Nicolas. "No," said Hal quietly. "About face. We are going the other way." "Where to?" demanded Nicolas surlily. "Right back to Cettinje," replied Hal, "where you shall be turned over to the Montenegrin authorities to meet the fate you deserve!" CHAPTER X. FLIGHT. Nicolas stopped short in his tracks. His face went red, then white, then flushed a dull red again. For a moment there was a deathly silence and then the Montenegrin sprang toward Hal with a cry of fury. The boy stood his ground. "I wouldn't if I were you," he said very quietly. His automatic glistened in his hand at his hip. Nicolas gazed down and then pulled himself up short as his eyes rested on the weapon. He said nothing. "I'm glad to see you're sensible," Hal continued. "Now you will take the lead, and for your own sake, I advise you to take the shortest cut in the general direction of Cettinje. Ivan, and you, Nikol, will see that he goes in the proper direction." The dwarf's face was covered by a comical grin and his long arms waved about eagerly as he gave his assent. He turned to Stubbs. "You will walk with me?" he asked. For a moment Stubbs hesitated. He gazed first at the little man and then at the great bulk of Nicolas. Then his eyes roved to the huge form of Ivan. "By Jove! I'd rather be alongside Ivan there," he muttered to himself, "but it wouldn't do to let this little fellow think I'm afraid. You're taking a long chance, Anthony, but I guess you had better do it. All right," he said to Nikol, and ranged himself at the dwarf's side. "I wouldn't try any tricks if I were you, Nicolas," said Ivan, as he swung into step behind the traitor, Nickol and Stubbs, the prisoner in the center. Colonel Edwards and Colonel Anderson came next in line and Hal and Chester brought up the rear. "It's a good two days' journey back," said Hal to Chester, "and, the chances are, we will encounter many of Nicolas' friends en route. We'll have to be careful." "We shall indeed," returned his chum. "One little slip and there is no telling what may happen." Night brought them to Ivan's cavern again and there they decided to spend the night. It had now been more than twenty-four hours since they had closed their eyes and all were tired out. They experienced no difficulty getting Nicolas under the rock into the cavern, nor did the Montenegrin seek to attack them as they crawled after him, as Hal had half feared he would. He seemed completely dejected and downcast. He had not spoken a word during the day's march. "I'll put him in your erstwhile prison," Ivan said to Chester with a grin. "I guess he'll be safe enough there for the night." He did so. "Well, I'm going to turn in," said Stubbs. "I'm dead for sleep. I tell you, it's no fun hoofing it over these mountains, particularly when you are guarding a prisoner like I have been all day, never knowing what minute he may make a break for liberty. No, sir, it's no fun." "Did you watch him pretty closely, Stubbs?" asked Chester. "I did," replied Stubbs, briefly. "Why?" continued Chester. "Afraid he might jump you? Hope you didn't think he could catch you if you had a two-foot start." Stubbs drew himself up majestically. "What do you mean by that?" he demanded in a ruffled tone. "Oh, nothing," said Chester, smiling. "If you mean to insinuate that I was afraid--" began Stubbs in an injured tone. "What!" interrupted Chester. "You afraid, Mr. Stubbs? You do me an injustice, I assure you. Why, I have seen you fight, Mr. Stubbs. Now, do you, by any chance, remember your battle with three wildcats?" "I do," said Stubbs, considerably pleased. He turned to Nikol. "Did I ever tell you about that fight?" he asked. Nikol shook his head and eyed the little war correspondent with interest. "Well, I did," continued Stubbs. "It was in Belgium. Three of the beasts attacked me in the dark and gave me a terrific struggle. But I killed them all, as these two boys can tell you." Nikol was all smiles. He was glad that the man who had conquered him was such a royal gladiator. "And you were not hurt?" he asked. "Oh, nothing to speak of," said Stubbs, modestly. "A few scratches. Nothing serious." "They are bad beasts to fool with," said Nikol. "My brother had both eyes scratched out in an encounter with a single wildcat. And you killed three." "There wasn't much chance of your eyes being scratched out, was there, Mr. Stubbs?" said Chester. "And why not?" demanded the little man, "Come now, Mr. Stubbs," said Chester, "you don't mean to tell me you have forgotten you were lying flat on your face dodging bullets when the cats jumped you." "No, I hadn't forgotten," said Stubbs in an injured tone. "But was it my fault that I had stumbled over a stone in the darkness a moment before?" "Well, no, possibly not," Chester admitted. "But it's funny you didn't think to mention that stone at the time." "If you are determined to laugh at me," said Stubbs with an air of ruffled dignity, "I have nothing more to say. Any man is likely to fall." "So he is, Mr. Stubbs," agreed Chester, "and I don't know but I'd fall myself if I saw three wildcats coming for me. Yes, I would, and I'd try to get my head just as deep in the ground as possible, like an ostrich, and then maybe they couldn't see me." For a moment Mr. Stubbs glared at the lad angrily and seemed about to speak; then turned on his heel angrily and strode to the far side of the cavern, where was the pallet which had been assigned to him. Chester broke into a little laugh, which died suddenly as he stared down into the angry face of Nikol, which glared up at him. There was a deep frown on the dwarf's face and he tapped himself upon the breast with one finger as he said: "Any man who insults my friend, insults me. You have cast reflections upon my friend's courage. He, being your friend, overlooks it; but I, the man whom he worsted in fair fight, cannot. You must apologize." Here Hal interfered. He had had such an encounter with the dwarf himself and he understood the situation. "Hey, Stubbs!" he called. "Come back here, quick!" Stubbs, just about to lie down upon his pallet, hurried back. He took in the situation at a glance and turned upon Nikol angrily. "Here," he cried. "You keep out of my quarrels. I was big enough to attend to you, I can do the same with the rest of them." "But he said--" protested the dwarf, pointing a finger at Chester. "I don't care what he said," Stubbs said. "I can fight my own battles." Nikol, deeply offended, drew back, and without another word, walked to the pallet that had been assigned to him. Stubbs, feeling somewhat better now that he had been able to berate some one and thus soothe his injured feelings, also stalked away without another word and lay down on his pallet. A moment later he was fast asleep. "Do you suppose there is need for one of us to stand watch, Ivan?" asked Hal. "I do not believe so," was the reply. "No one knows where my cavern is and we are not likely to be disturbed." "I vote we turn in immediately then," said Colonel Edwards. "Second the motion," said Colonel Anderson. "We've got to be on the move early and we've got to have some sleep first." "Here goes, then," said Chester, and moved to his own place. The others also sought their pallets and soon there was silence in the cavern. Completely worn out, the travelers slept like logs. Several hours later, had they not been so completely exhausted, the sleepers undoubtedly would have heard strange noises from that part of the cavern in which Nicolas had been confined. Came a faint grinding sound, which gradually became louder and louder, but which, after a time, ceased altogether. Then came a softer sound, that of footsteps coming slowly from the dark passageway; and a moment later Nicolas himself stepped into the glare of the fire. His clothing was torn about the shoulders and his open hands dripped little drops of blood. He rubbed them together tenderly. "Had I been a weaker man it would have been impossible," he muttered. For he had pushed aside the heavy rock that guarded his prison--a rock that Ivan had believed not another man save himself could move. Apparently Nicolas had been underestimated. Now the Montenegrin moved softly toward the entrance to the cave, fearful at every step that he would awaken the sleepers. It was dark within and this fact probably is all that prevented his escape. In moving toward the entrance he passed close to the pallet upon which Stubbs slept. One of the little man's hands was stretched out across the floor and Nicolas' heavy boot came down squarely upon it. A sudden loud cry shattered the deathly stillness of the night, followed by a more piercing cry. Instantly every one was awake, though only half so, for the awakening had come so suddenly. At Stubbs' first outcry, Nicolas, with a muttered imprecation, had dashed for the exit. He fell upon his knees and was about to crawl outside when Nikol, more wide awake than the others, flung himself forward and clasped his long arms about the Montenegrin's neck. Nicolas drew back in the cave and pulled himself to his feet in spite of the dwarf's frantic efforts to hold him down. Then, seeing the size of his opponent, Nicolas laughed aloud and sought to fling the little man from him. But Nikol held him firmly. But in spite of the dwarf's great strength, Nicolas was too big and powerful for him. The powerfulness the dwarf might have overcome, but the size was too much. Plucking away the arms that were tightened about his neck, Nicolas held the dwarf away from him with his left hand, then struck him heavily in the face with his right. Taking a step more toward the center of the cavern, he hurled his opponent across the room. Nikol struck the floor with a thud and lay still. Now, realizing the need of haste, Nicolas turned quickly and made as though to move toward the exit. But he had delayed too long. The dwarf's efforts to hold him, though futile, had been enough to prevent the Montenegrin's escape. A second huge form--the form of Ivan--barred the exit. "Come on, have a try," said Ivan, with a grin. Nicolas gave a loud cry--the cry of a cornered beast. Then he sprang. "I'll kill you!" he yelled in a voice of thunder. CHAPTER XI. A FIGHT. All the others in the cavern were on their feet now, all save Nikol, who still lay unconscious where Nicolas had hurled him. Stubbs shrank back in the dark, but Hal, Chester and the two British officers quickly produced revolvers with which they covered Nicolas. Ivan, out of the tail of his eye, caught sight of these movements. He let out a roar even as Nicolas sprang upon him. "Put up those guns!" he shouted. "I'll attend to this fellow with my bare hands. Stand back!" There was something in the voice of the big Cossack that impelled the others to obey; and they drew back, circling about to watch the struggle. Even Stubbs picked up courage enough to come forward; and hardly had the fight begun when Nikol, too, pulled himself up and cast his eyes upon the combatants. Nicolas sprang upon Ivan with outstretched arms, his fingers spread wide. His object was to clasp one of his strong hands about Ivan's throat, thus obtaining an advantage at the outset. But Ivan had divined his intention at the moment he sprang, and ducking with remarkable agility for a man of his size, he came up inside the other's arms and grasped his opponent around the middle with both arms. Then he squeezed; and the spectators drew their breaths audibly, for it seemed that no man could stand such a strain. But Nicolas bore up under it, and when Ivan, out of wind, was forced to relinquish his hold, Nicolas whirled upon him quickly and the fingers of his left hand sank into the Cossack's throat. Chester uttered a faint cry of alarm, for a hold such as this, obtained by such a powerful man as Nicolas, was indeed a thing to be feared. Ivan leaped quickly backward, carrying Nicolas with him, but the latter retained his hold; and then he brought his right fist up under Ivan's chin. It was a hard blow and Ivan staggered. With his left hand, Nicolas jerked the big Cossack forward again, and shot his right fist into Ivan's face as he did so. Then, apparently thinking his opponent done for, he released his grip on Ivan's throat and stepped back. But he had counted without the endurance and courage of the giant Cossack. The fingers about his throat gone, Ivan, his head reeling dizzily from the effects of the hold and the two hard blows, staggered back several paces; then, with a loud cry, sprang forward again. Nicolas also cried aloud as he stepped forward to meet the antagonist he considered all but beaten. Ivan came forward with arms outstretched, and unheeding the two hard blows that Nicolas struck him, he again grasped the Montenegrin in a tight embrace. Nicolas wrapped his arms about Ivan; and there they stood for the space of several seconds, each vainly trying to move the other. Suddenly Ivan gave back a step and as Nicolas came forward with him, the Cossack thrust a leg behind his opponent and pushed with all his might. Nicolas was caught off his balance and before he could recover himself Ivan twisted sharply with his leg. Nicolas went over backwards, with Ivan on top of him. The two men struck the floor with a terrible crash; a cry was wrung from the spectators, for it seemed that a fall with such force could mean nothing less than broken bones for one of the fighters. But apparently it did not; for, still locked in each other's embrace, the men were struggling furiously for advantage upon the floor. Ivan was still on top, but the Montenegrin, with both arms around the Cossack's neck, was making desperate efforts to roll his opponent over. Nicolas lay squarely upon his back and Ivan's arms, wrapped around him at the moment of encounter, were pinioned beneath the other. The big Cossack was making strenuous attempts to free his right hand and still hold his opponent down with his great bulk. And at last he succeeded. At the same moment Nicolas also released his hold and flopped over on his face. Apparently he had given up all hope of overcoming Ivan and was now acting purely upon the defensive. Ivan acted too late to prevent his opponent from turning over, but now he seized him by both shoulders, and planting his feet firmly upon the ground, by a mighty effort, jerked Nicolas to his feet. It was a marvelous exhibition of strength and brought a cry from Stubbs, than whom there was no more interested spectator of the struggle. Nicolas now whirled suddenly and his right fist caught Ivan a terrible and unexpected jolt on the point of the chin. Ivan reeled back several paces and Nicolas followed him closely, shouting: "I've got you!" The words seemed to have a strange effect upon Ivan. He seemed to recover himself with an effort and his right and left fists shot almost simultaneously in mighty blows. The first went wild, but the second caught Nicolas squarely upon the side of the neck and checked his rush. Before he could give ground, Ivan brought his huge right fist forward again to the point of Nicolas' chin. The Montenegrin reeled. But Ivan, having the advantage for really the first time, gave his man no time to recover. He leaped forward and for a third time seized his opponent in a close embrace. This time Nicolas had been unable to draw a deep breath before the great arms closed about him and he weakened suddenly. In fact, he weakened so suddenly, that Ivan, believing victory his, released his hold; and this overconfidence almost proved the Cossack's undoing. Nicolas, realizing that he could not again free himself from Ivan's embrace, had decided upon a bold stroke, and by apparently giving up the struggle had placed himself in Ivan's power absolutely. Then, when Ivan released his hold, Nicolas dropped suddenly to his knees and seized Ivan by the legs and pulled sharply. Caught completely off his guard, Ivan toppled over backwards. Nicolas jumped upon the prostrate form and again his fingers sought Ivan's throat. But Ivan was too quick for him and the fingers failed to find their mark. Ivan doubled up his knees suddenly and thus prevented Nicolas from obtaining his hold; then, straightening out his legs, he hurled Nicolas from him. Instantly the Cossack was on his feet and after his opponent. Nicolas also sprang to his feet and as the two men came together again they threw wrestling tactics to the winds and brought their fists into play. It was plainly apparent that neither had ever been schooled in the art of self-defense and there was nothing skillful about the fight that followed. The attempts of each to ward off the blows of the other were ludicrous and of little avail. Almost every blow started went home and it became apparent to the spectators that in this kind of fighting the man who could withstand the most punishment and land the hardest blows must be the victor. Several hard jolts had found their way to Ivan's face, but he did not show any symptoms of being unable to continue the battle. His face was a sight, but so was the face of Nicolas, for the matter of that. Both men swung hard and often, and nine out of every ten times each landed. Also both were panting heavily now and it was perfectly plain that the fight must come to an end soon. And it did, but more suddenly than could have been expected. Nicolas, swinging wildly for Ivan's chin, had left an opening as large as a house. The merest novice must have taken advantage of it. To Hal and Chester, both skillful boxers, it was the best opening that had been presented during the entire fight, and Hal cried out: "Quick, Ivan!" But his words were not needed. Ivan had seen the opening and had acted promptly. "Smack!" his right fist landed heavily between Nicolas' eyes. "Smack!" it was his left landing on the point of Nicolas' jaw. "Crash!" It sounded like the breaking of bones. There was a brief silence, followed by another crash. The first was Ivan's right over Nicolas' mouth and the second was the sound caused as Nicolas tumbled to the ground, unconscious. There was a twinkle in Ivan's eye as he surveyed his fallen foe. "Some fighter, that fellow," he said. "I didn't believe he had it in him. But I would have had him sooner if he hadn't fooled me." "You certainly would," said Hal. "You see, Ivan, that's your trouble. You know nothing of boxing. Had you been, a boxer you could have polished him off easily." "There is no science to using your fists," said Ivan decidedly. "The only thing is to hit your opponent before he hits you." "True enough," said Chester, "and that's where skill plays a part. For instance now, I suppose I could keep you from ever touching me, big as you are, and I venture to say I could land upon you almost at will, though possibly not hard enough to put you out. You're too big for that." "Ho! Ho!" laughed Ivan gleefully. "Hear the little fellow talk. Why, you couldn't even lay a finger on me. I would just hold out one of my long arms and you couldn't get near me." Chester smiled. "It sounds easy enough," he said. "But take my word for it, I know what I am talking about." "Well, show me," said Ivan. "I will some time," was the reply. "Right now we'll have to tie Nicolas up and finish our sleep." But when Nicolas had been safely secured, Ivan declared that he would not go to sleep until he had proven to Chester just how easy it would be to handle him. "Well, all right, then," said Chester, "I'll show you. But remember, don't you crack me too hard if you do happen to land." Chester placed himself quickly in an attitude of defense, left arm extended slightly, right arm well back. Crouching slightly and treading on his toes, he stepped lightly around Ivan, who, with arms wide, waited for him to come in. Chester feinted quickly with his left and brought his right forward as he stepped in close. The right fist bumped the giant's chin gently, for Chester had not struck hard. A moment later his left landed almost in the same spot, a trifle harder, and he escaped Ivan's rush and wild swing by side-stepping nimbly. There was a puzzled expression on Ivan's face as he followed the lad about the cavern, Chester dancing nimbly first to this side and then that. Once the lad let the giant come close, and when he swung, Chester jerked his head aside sharply and the blow passed over his shoulder. Quickly then Chester stepped forward and with his open left palm smacked Ivan smartly across the left cheek. He performed a similar operation with his right; then stepped back and dropped his hands. "Well?" he said, eying Ivan inquiringly. "Well, you did it," said Ivan, greatly crestfallen. "How, I don't know. Will you teach me?" "Some time," said Chester. "Now, let's finish that sleep." CHAPTER XII. A CHASE. "We ought to be pretty close to the place we left our horses," said Chester. "I was just thinking that, myself," agreed Colonel Anderson. "Must be around here some place." "We shall be there within the hour," said Nikol, to whom the situation had been explained. He had declared he could lead them straight to the place they had left the animals. "So you see, Mr. Stubbs, we are not coming back in such a hurry after all," said Hal. "We're not there yet," mumbled Stubbs. "An hour is an hour. We've been altogether too lucky, if you ask me. It's about time something happened." "Croaking again, eh?" said Chester. "I never saw a fellow like you before. You see trouble in everything." "So I do--when I'm with you," declared Stubbs. "It's been my experience that wherever you and Hal happen to be, there also is trouble. I'm a peaceable man, I am. I believe in taking all precautions. But here we go, walking along as though we were on your uncle's farm. No thought of danger among any of you. But I've got a hunch--" "You've always got a hunch," Hal interrupted. "Well, all right," said Stubbs. "Just remember I've warned you." They continued on their way in silence. "To tell the truth, we have been remarkably fortunate," declared Colonel Edwards. "I had expected to bump into some of Nicolas' friends before this. It's funny." "It's not too late yet," said Stubbs. "Mr. Stubbs," said Chester, with some exasperation, "if you--" "Hold on," said Stubbs. He pointed ahead and slightly to the left. "Here comes a gang after us now." The others glanced in the direction indicated. A body of men afoot, perhaps a dozen all told, were approaching. "Yes," said Chester, "here comes a gang, but that's no sign they are enemies." "Everybody is an enemy in these parts," said Stubbs sententiously. "By George, you are the limit, Stubbs!" declared Chester. "Now, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll just bet you something pretty you're wrong in this case." "Well, I ain't wrong," returned Stubbs, forgetting his grammar. "I'll take that bet. But in the meantime you fellows have a look at your guns. I may need protection." This was good advice and the others realized it. They acted on it and the chamber of Colonel Anderson's revolver snapped with a click that emphasized his next remark: "Can't trust them," he said. The men were close now, and they appeared to be friendly enough. At sight of the prisoner in the center, one of them cried: "Ho, Nicolas! where are you going?" Quickly Hal stepped behind the prisoner and out of sight of the strangers, his revolver was pressed into Nicolas' back. "No foolishness," he said in a low voice. "Rather risky for you in these parts, isn't it, Nicolas?" said another of the strangers. Nicolas heeded Hal's advice. "I'm with friends," he returned. "There are enough of us here to look out for ourselves." "Where are you bound?" "Not far. I have a little business a couple of miles farther on." "Want any company?" Nicolas hesitated a moment and there came a queer gleam into his eye. And before Hal could say a word, he replied: "Well, you can come along if you want to." This reply staggered the others a bit, but it was too late now. Hal saw that he had not acted promptly enough, but to order Nicolas to change his decision would have aroused the suspicion of the others. There was nothing for it but to make the best of a bad situation. "All right, we'll come along then, Nicolas," said the man who appeared to be the leader of the newcomers. "Might be a little gold in it for us, eh?" "There might be," agreed Nicolas, with an evil smile. Hal held a whispered consultation with the others and it was agreed it would be foolish to bring matters to a climax now. "Wait until we get our horses," was Chester's advice. The augmented party now continued on its way. Half an hour later they came to the place where they had left their horses some days before. The man who had taken care of them advanced to meet the party. "Horses still here?" asked Colonel Edwards. The man nodded. "And can you spare us three extra ones?" The man considered. "Do you wish to buy?" he asked at last. Colonel Edwards indicated that he did. "Then I can accommodate you," was the reply. "I have a dozen of my own animals, but times are hard and I need the money." He named a sum and Colonel Edwards agreed to pay it. "Have them all brought out immediately," the Colonel instructed. The man bowed and departed after pocketing the money the Colonel gave him. Colonel Edwards returned to the others. "It's all right," he said in a low voice. "Our horses are still here and I have bought three more--one each for Nikol, Ivan and Nicolas." "Good," said Hal. He gathered his friends about him, Nicolas in the center, and in a few brief words explained a plan he had hit upon: "We'll walk slowly toward the barn," he said. "Nicolas will tell the others to remain where they are." He eyed the traitor coldly. "Then we'll dash into the barn and mount. When we are all ready, we'll make a dash for it, shooting as we do so." "As good a plan as any, I guess," said Colonel Edwards, after a moment's hesitation. "Let's get started." Slowly they moved toward the barn. Nicolas' friends, seeing him moving away, followed, but still kept at some distance. The friends entered the barn without being molested. The mountaineer had just finished with the last horse and Hal gave the word for all to mount. "Keep Nicolas in the center," he said, "and if he makes a false move, shoot him. He's too dangerous a man to be running around loose." While the others mounted, Hal moved to the door to watch the men without. He arrived there just in time to meet a man who would have entered. Hal produced his automatic. "Get back there!" he commanded. The man took one look at the revolver and leaped back in a hurry. A moment later a voice called: "What's the matter in there, Nicolas?" "Answer him," said Chester, prodding Nicolas with his revolver. "Tell him everything is all right." Nicolas did so. Came the voice from without again: "Trying to give us the slip, eh? Don't want to divide up the gold with us, I guess? Well, we're coming in after you." "All ready?" asked Hal at this juncture. Chester glanced around quickly. "Ready, as soon as you mount," he replied quietly. "Hurry!" Hal took one more look out the door and saw that the men were approaching, separated widely. "They're coming!" he cried, and leaped astride his horse. Then he called to the mountaineer, "Open the door wide!" For a moment the mountaineer hesitated. He saw that there was trouble coming and he knew that it was none of his business. Hal aimed his automatic at him. "Open it wide, quick!" he commanded. The man hesitated no longer. He threw wide the door. Again Hal glanced quickly about him; then gave the command in a sharp voice: "Forward!" Out the door they charged at a gallop--Hal and Chester in the lead, next Colonel Anderson and Nicole, then Nicolas and Stubbs, with Ivan and Colonel Edwards bringing up the rear. Outside the door the enemy had drawn somewhat closer together and they stood with drawn revolvers as the riders charged. There was no time for flight, and in spite of the fact that the charge was a distinct surprise, the foe opened with their revolvers. Without checking their wild speed, Hal and Chester fired point blank into the faces of the men who barred their way. Whether they hit or not it was impossible to tell, but two men who were unable to jump out of the way in time, were knocked down by the foremost horses and the rest of the little troop passed over their prostrate forms. But now beyond the enemy, Hal and Chester, leading, did not check the speed of their horses, for Colonel Edwards had mentioned the fact that there were more horses in the barn, and all knew that there would be pursuit. Behind, some of the men had fallen to their knees and taken deliberate aim at the flying riders, and the sharp crack, crack of the weapons continued for several seconds. Bullets flew near, but not one struck home. Out of revolver shot, Hal and Chester drew up their horses to take stock. "Any one hit?" demanded Hal. There was no reply. "All right," said Hal, "we'll move on again." Colonel Edwards, glancing to the rear at that moment, called: "Here they come!" The others looked back. It was true. With loud shouts and waving their revolvers aloft, almost a dozen men galloped forward. There came a cry of alarm from Stubbs, in the center of the little troop. "Hey! Let's get away from here." He dug his heels into his horse's ribs and dashed through the others. "Spread out!" ordered Hal. "We make too good a mark this way." The others obeyed this order, Ivan still keeping close behind Nicolas, and then Hal commanded: "Forward!" They went forward at a rapid gallop. The pursuers gave chase with wild yells, firing wildly as they did so. CHAPTER XIII. A SAD LOSS. The leader of the flight was Anthony Stubbs. He had covered considerable distance when the others started and was now well in advance. The little man's heels continued to dig at the ribs of the horse he bestrode, and the animal, snorting and with ears laid back, covered the ground in great bounds. Hal and Chester, riding close to each other, kept an eye on the others; and after they had ridden perhaps half a mile, they perceived that Nicolas and Ivan were lagging behind. "Nicolas is holding back!" shouted Chester. Hal shook his head. "His weight is too great for the horse," Hal shouted back. "Same with Ivan." This was plainly true and the lads saw that the pursuers were gaining on them. Hal headed his horse diagonally across the road and slowed down a bit. Chester followed suit. Perceiving this movement, the others also checked the speed of their horses, all save Stubbs, who was now far ahead. As Nicolas came abreast of Hal he suddenly leaned over his horse, and before the lad could realize what was up, he seized Hal's revolver, which was in a holster at his side. Hal grabbed for it too late. With an evil light in his eye, the Montenegrin leveled the revolver directly at Hal and his finger tightened on the trigger. But another brain had acted more quickly than Nicolas'. Two sharp reports came almost together. Hal felt a bullet brush past his ear. Nicolas dropped suddenly from his horse. Turning, Hal gazed into the calm face of Nikol and in the dwarf's hand was a smoking revolver. He had whipped out his revolver and fired in the nick of time. Hal realized that he owed his life to the dwarf and he smiled at him slightly. A quick look at the prostrate form of Nicolas showed that he was beyond human aid, and Hal also realized the need of haste, as the pursuers were even now within range and bullets whined about the fugitives. "Forward!" he cried. Again they set off at a gallop. Ten minutes later Hal again noticed that Ivan was lagging behind. He drew his horse down until Ivan came up with him. A moment later Colonel Edwards also dropped back on even terms with them. "Go ahead. Don't wait for me," shouted Ivan. Hal shook his head slightly, as did Colonel Edwards. "I tell you, it's no use," said Ivan. "This horse can't carry me much farther. Ride on!" The others paid no heed. Suddenly Ivan drew rein, pulling his horse back on his haunches, and leaped lightly to the ground. Then, before the others realized his intention, he drew his revolvers and faced the pursuers. Quickly Hal and Colonel Edwards checked their horses, wheeled about and hurried back to him. "You are fools!" said Ivan hoarsely. "There is no need for all of us to die. I could have held them off until the rest of you were safe. It is not too late yet. Ride on!" For answer Hal leaped lightly to the ground and Colonel Edwards followed suit. The latter produced two revolvers and Hal one, for his other still lay beside the body of Nicolas. "Into the woods here, quick!" Hal commanded. The others obeyed him; and they moved from their perilous positions not a moment too soon, for the pursuers had found the range and revolver bullets whistled about them as they darted for shelter. Ahead, Chester now discovered that the others had stopped. He checked his own horse, and calling to Colonel Anderson and Nikol, wheeled about and dashed down the road, the others following. Chester allowed the reins to fall loose on his horse's neck and in each hand glistened a revolver. Colonel Anderson and Nikol were also prepared. Some distance beyond where Hal, Colonel Edwards and Ivan had dismounted, the pursuers had drawn rein; and now Chester, Colonel Anderson and Nikol charged right at them. In spite of their numbers, the pursuers, after one hasty volley, turned and fled as the three charged down upon them. The three fired once each at the foe and one man dropped. Then they checked their horses, dismounted and made their way into the woods, where they joined the others. "Well," said Chester. "Here we are. Now what?" "I don't know," said Hal. "We might push on through the woods, leaving the horses here, or we might wait until dark and make another break. We can probably lose our pursuers some way." "I should say the latter is the better plan," said Colonel Edwards. "If Ivan will start first, we can come on an hour later. We can protect his flight. Because of his great weight his horse cannot keep up with the rest of us." Ivan protested. He didn't want to go and leave the others behind. But at last he agreed. "Then I can see no reason for waiting until dark," said Chester. "Let Ivan mount now and make a break for it. We can cover him. They won't get by us. An hour later we can start." After some further discussion, this plan was adopted; and grumbling somewhat, Ivan mounted in the shelter of the trees. When the Cossack was ready, Hal peered out. A short distance back he could see the pursuers and his appearance drew a shot. But the men were too far away to aim with any degree of accuracy and the shot went wild. "All right, Ivan," the lad said. "Go!" The big Cossack dug his heels into his horse's ribs and with a shout dashed out into the road. There was an answering shout from behind and the thundering of horses' hoofs told those among the trees that the enemy was on the advance. "We'll have to stop 'em!" cried Hal. "Aim carefully now." They waited until the riders were close and then stepped into the open. "Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!" The revolvers of the six friends spoke as one. Two of the approaching horsemen reeled in their saddles, then toppled to the ground. Two more dropped their weapons and uttered loud cries. The pursuers beat a hasty retreat. "Guess that will give Ivan a chance to get away," said Hal briefly. "Now, all we have to do is to wait until he has a good start." But the mountaineers had no mind to remain idle and let the fugitives make all the plans. Even now they were in deep consultation. There were many gestures and noddings of heads. And at last the mountaineers seemed to have hit upon a plan of action. The men split up into small groups, and leaving their horses, picketed by the side of the road, plunged in among the trees. Hal, glancing from his place of concealment at that moment, took account of the activities of the foe. "Something up," he whispered to the others. "They probably will attempt to surprise us. We'll have to look sharp now." "My advice," said Colonel Edwards, "is that we split up a bit, to return here at a given signal. If we all remain here, it will be simple for them to surround us. Scattered, we may catch them at a disadvantage." "A good plan," Hal agreed. "We'll scatter a hundred yards in each direction. And the signal to return?" "I'll whistle," said Colonel Edwards. "Good! Let's move." Five minutes later, in the spot where the five had been, there remained only the five horses. With revolvers in hands, the five friends were scattered near by, eyes wide open for the first enemy to show himself. And the first chanced to be a scant twenty yards from Chester. He came crawling along the ground, glancing furtively about. He spied Chester at the same moment the lad saw him. The two revolvers spoke almost as one. Chester felt a slight pain in his left arm. His opponent gave a loud cry and toppled over. "Guess he won't bother us any more," muttered the lad grimly. He kept his eyes peeled for sign of another of the foes. And in other parts of the woods the others did likewise. Hal saw no sign of an enemy and after the one whom he had accounted for, neither did Chester. They kept careful watch, the while awaiting the signal that was to call them back to their horses in a final dash for safety. From their places of concealment the lads heard a shot. There was not a second. Each was greatly worried, for neither knew who had fired it or whether friend or foe had been hit. All they could do was wait. At last the whistle came, the signal agreed upon. It came so faintly as to be scarcely audible to those who had been awaiting it. Hal and Chester moved toward the spot where stood the horses. There they saw Colonel Edwards holding the bridle of his own animal. A moment later Colonel Anderson and Nikol appeared. "All right. No use waiting longer," said Colonel Edwards. "Mount and we'll run for it!" All suited the action to the word. "Go!" commanded Colonel Edwards. There was a strange catch in the colonel's voice and Hal glanced at him sharply before touching his horse. He saw Colonel Edwards reel suddenly in his saddle, then fall heavily to the ground. With a cry to the others, Hal leaped quickly to the ground, ran to the fallen figure of the colonel and bent over him anxiously. The others, at Hal's cry, also dismounted and returned to the fallen man. "Stand guard there till I see what's wrong!" Hal commanded. Colonel Anderson, Chester and Nikol stood with drawn revolvers. Gently Hal lifted Colonel Edwards' head to his knee. The eyes were closed. The lad put a hand over the officer's heart. There was a faint beating. A moment later Colonel Edwards opened his eyes. He smiled feebly. "Guess I'm done for," he said quietly. Hal did not reply, for the little wound just above the heart showed where the bullet had gone home. Now Colonel Anderson knelt down beside his old friend. "What's the matter, old man?" he said. "Did they get you?" "They got me," replied Colonel Edwards. "You fellows go on. You can do nothing for me. It's too late." A sudden shudder shook him and he burst into a fit of coughing. His eyes closed, but he reached forth a hand and his fingers clasped Colonel Anderson's hand. "Tell the folks at home--" he said feebly, then became still. Quickly Colonel Anderson placed a hand over the other's heart. Then he looked at Hal. "Dead!" he said simply. For long minutes all stood there silently, their hats off. How long they would have remained, it is hard to tell, but the sound of a shot close at hand awakened them to their own danger. "We can do no good here," said Colonel Anderson quietly. "We may as well go." "First," said Hal, "we shall move his body to a little hole in the ground I saw back here. We'll cover him up and then we'll go." Under the very revolvers of the enemy this was done; and the four returned to their horses. "Mount!" ordered Colonel Anderson. The order was obeyed. Colonel Anderson gazed lingeringly toward the spot where lay the body of Colonel Edwards, and there were tears in his eyes as he did so. He drew a hand sharply across his eyes, shook himself a bit and commanded: "Forward!" CHAPTER XIV. SAFE. Away they went at a gallop, only four of them now. The horses, once upon the road again, let themselves out nobly and sped on like the wind. There was a single volley from the foe as the four came into the open, but all the bullets went wild, and before a second could be fired they were out of range. Then the pursuers hurried for their own horses, mounted and again gave chase. But if the ranks of the pursued had been thinned, so had those of the pursuers. Back in the woods lay four bodies cold in death. Of the survivors who still pursued there were seven. The horses ridden by the four friends had benefited by the brief rest and were in condition for a long run; and all might have gone well had it not been for an unlooked-for occurrence. As they were dashing swiftly along, Chester's horse stumbled and emitted a groan. Instantly the lad checked the animal, jumped to the ground and ran to its head. There was a look of pain in the horse's eyes and he held up one foot. Chester glanced down. "He can't go on," the lad said; "the leg is broken." He drew his revolver. "Here! What are you going to do?" demanded Colonel Anderson. "Shoot him," replied Chester quietly. "Put him out of his misery." "Wait a moment," said the colonel, dismounting. "I know something about horses. Maybe it's not as bad as all that." He examined the leg carefully. When he straightened up he looked at Chester and nodded. "It's the best way," he said quietly. "There is nothing that can be done for him." Chester stroked the horse's head gently and the animal whinnied in pain. "I'm awfully sorry, old fellow," said the lad, "but it will be best for you." The horse seemed to understand. Chester took aim and fired quickly. "And now what are we going to do?" he asked. "Climb up behind me," said Hal. "We've got a pretty fair start. May be they will not overtake us." Chester did as Hal suggested, and the party moved on again, but more slowly now. It was perhaps half an hour later, when hoofbeats were heard behind. "Here they come!" cried Hal, and dug his heels into his horse's side. The animal responded nobly, but five minutes later it became apparent that they would be unable to distance their pursuers at this speed. The hoofbeats became plainer. Hal drew rein. "Dismount!" he cried. His command was obeyed instantly. Taking his horse by the head, Hal led him in among the trees. The others followed his lead. "When they get by, we'll go forward again," said Hal. They waited silently. A few moments later the pursuers flashed by, going at a rapid gallop. When they were out of sight, Hal led his horse to the road, as did the others, and all mounted. "We'll follow them," said the lad. "We'll have to keep our ears open, though, for they are likely to turn almost any time." An hour later, rounding a turn in the road, Colonel Anderson, who was in advance, checked his horse suddenly. The others also drew up sharply. "What's the matter?" asked Hal. For answer Colonel Anderson pointed down the road. There, probably half a mile away, were their pursuers, stationary. "What do you suppose they are waiting for?" demanded Chester. The answer came from an unexpected source. From beyond the pursuers arose a puff of smoke, followed by a faint report. It was the sound of a revolver. "They've bumped into another enemy of some kind," said Chester. "Wonder how strong this new force is?" "Can't be very strong or those fellows would be heading this way," declared Hal. "Maybe they think it's us." "That's about the size of it," declared Colonel Anderson. There was another puff of smoke at this moment, and one of the enemy fell. "Bully for you, whoever you are," shouted Chester. "Say!" he added, "what's the matter with taking them in the rear? They haven't spotted us yet." "I was thinking of that," said Colonel Anderson. "Guess it can be done all right. Will your horse carry double that far, Hal?" "He'll have to," replied the lad grimly. "Good. Are you ready?" "When you give the word." "Then charge!" Down the road at a rapid gallop went the three horses, carrying the four friends. Hal, Colonel Anderson and Nikol each guided their mounts with their left hands, flourishing their revolvers in the right. Chester held fast to Hal with his left and also flourished a revolver with his free hand. Nearer and nearer they came upon their unsuspecting enemies, who still stood where they had been when first discovered. Occasionally one fired his revolver at the spot from which shots came at frequent intervals now. "Wonder why those fellows beyond don't charge, now that they must see us coming," muttered Hal to himself. He watched the puffs of smoke as they came at intervals, and he was suddenly struck by an idea. "By Jove!" he shouted, to make himself heard, "I'll bet there is only one man there. That's why the shots are so far apart." "Well, we're pretty evenly matched," said Chester. "There are only six of them in condition to fight." "Five," said Hal suddenly, as another of the enemy pitched suddenly to the ground, a shot from beyond having struck him. "See! they are going to charge him!" cried Chester, peering over his friend's shoulder. It was true. The enemy had spread out as much as the road would permit and the man who appeared to be the leader raised his hand. "We'll have to stop that," muttered Hal. He raised his voice in a shout, which carried plainly to the foe. The five men wheeled about suddenly and for the first time saw they were beset in the rear as well as in front. For a moment they hesitated, then turned and charged the new arrivals. "Keep going!" shouted Hal. "And don't miss!" The enemy fired first, but all the shots went wild. Suddenly Nikol checked his horse, took deliberate aim and fired. A rider fell to the ground. The range was still great, but Nikol's aim was true. A second man dropped at his second bullet. Now Colonel Anderson and Hal fired simultaneously. Another man dropped--it was impossible to tell whether Hal or Colonel Anderson had scored a hit. The two remaining riders drew their horses upon their haunches, and headed them for the friendly protection of the trees. Hal and Colonel Anderson fired a parting shot, but they were unable to tell whether the bullets had gone home. Chester, behind Hal, had been unable to get into the battle, Hal's figure interfering with his aim. "Well, I don't think the two of them will bother us," said Hal. "No," Chester agreed. "And there are two loose horses. I'm going to get one of them." "Better make it two," said Colonel Anderson. "Our ally beyond, whoever he may be, may need one." Chester nodded. "He deserves one," he said. "He knocked off three of these fellows." He secured the two horses without much trouble, mounted one and led the other. "Now we'll have an interview with our friend," he said. They rode forward slowly. "Funny he doesn't come out and show himself," said Hal. "Guess he thinks we are enemies, too," suggested Colonel Anderson. "Well--whoa, there." He broke off suddenly and ducked his head, for a bullet had whistled just above him. He raised his voice in a shout: "Hey!" he cried in English, forgetting just where he was, "what do you mean shooting at us? Quit it. We're friends." "That you, Hal?" came a familiar voice. Hal, Chester and Colonel Anderson gazed into each other's eyes almost dumbfounded. "Well, what do you think of that?" exclaimed Hal. There came a pleased chuckle from one member of the party, who rushed forward happily. It was Nikol. "Now where is he going?" demanded Chester anxiously. "Going to greet his friend Stubbs," returned Hal. "To Nikol, Stubbs is a brave man and a grand fighter; and what has happened just now will only increase his admiration. Come on, let's go and have a look for ourselves." "Is that you, Hal, Chester?" came Stubbs' voice again. "Yes," Hal shouted back. They rode forward. Anthony Stubbs, now that he had found his friends again, came forward as fast as his queer stature would permit. He was puffing and blowing so hard by the time he reached them that he could hardly talk. Of Nikol, who stuck close to his side, eyeing him admiringly, he took no notice. "By George! It's good to see you fellows again," declared Stubbs. "I thought my days were numbered when that gang of ruffians set upon me. I didn't want to fight, but I had to. It seems to me I got seven or eight of them." "Well, how do you happen to be here, anyhow?" demanded Chester. "My horse threw me and went away by himself," said Stubbs mournfully. "If I ever see him again I'll tell him about it. He might have got me killed." Nikol now forced himself in front of Stubbs and extended a hand. "Mr. Stubbs," he said quietly, "you are a brave and gallant man." Stubbs was pleased. He made as though to take the hand; then thought better of it. He remembered the grip of those powerful fingers. He shuddered. "I know it, Nikol," he said gravely. He put out his hand and patted the dwarf on the head. CHAPTER XV. MR. STUBBS EASES HIS MIND. The remainder of the journey to Cettinje was without incident. After the defeat of the mountaineers the lads felt safe, for they were once more within the borders of Montenegro and were unlikely, they knew, to encounter other enemies. Stubbs, when informed of the death of Colonel Edwards, was greatly grieved. "Poor fellow," he said, and added after a pause: "There is no use talking, Hal, this is no life for any one. He's likely to be snuffed out at a moment's notice. I'm going to be careful where I go in the future." Besides the three bags of gold he had carried when he left the Albanian mountains, Hal now had the two he had taken from the body of Colonel Edwards. The two Nicolas had carried had been left with him, for there had been no time to get them. Stubbs had held on to the two entrusted to him, and Ivan, wherever he was, had two more. It was while speaking of the gold that Hal's thoughts turned to Ivan. "I wonder what can have happened to him?" he said. Chester shrugged his shoulders. "No telling," he replied. "However, I guess he'll turn up sooner or later." And the lad was right. It was dark when the little party came again within the first line of Montenegrin troops. Colonel Anderson announced that he would seek an audience of King Nicholas immediately. He made his wants known to the officer of the guard, and after he had explained the situation, the officer departed to learn whether the king would see the returned travelers. He returned fifteen minutes later with the announcement that the king would receive them in his field quarters immediately. As they started for the monarch's quarters, Stubbs and Nikol both hung back. "Come on now, Mr. Stubbs," said Chester. "The king will be as glad to see you as any of the rest of us." "I'm not much used to kings," Stubbs protested. "Besides, this is none of my expedition. You're the fellows he wants to see." "Nonsense," said Hal, and struck with a sudden thought, he added: "Perhaps the king will give you an interview. It would be a good thing for the _New York Gazette_." "By Jove! you're right there," Stubbs agreed. "I must be a great newspaper man to have overlooked a thing like that. If my boss knew it I'd get fired. I'll go along." Still Nikol hung back, and it took considerable coaxing before he consented to go; and then it took Stubbs to clinch matters. "Look here, now," he said, eyeing Nikol sternly, "I took you for a brave man. You're not afraid of a king, are you?" Nikol shook his head negatively. "Well, if you don't come along I'll think you are," declared Stubbs. "Look at me now. I don't care particularly about going, but I want to show King Nicholas I'm not afraid of him. Come on." He took the dwarf by the arm and the latter moved along grumbling to himself. The king received the party in his private quarters--a large field tent. When the party was ushered into his presence, he was attended by a single orderly. He arose at their entrance. His eyes surveyed the group quickly, and he demanded: "Where is my friend, Colonel Edwards?" Colonel Anderson, delegated spokesman for the party by reason of his superior rank, stepped forward and replied quietly: "He is dead, sire." The king took a step backward and passed a trembling hand across his brow. He was silent for some moments before replying. "Dead! One more victim of the Kaiser's militarism. Tell me, how did he die?" Colonel Anderson explained quietly and briefly. Then, at the king's request, he went into the details of the journey; and when he had concluded, King Nicholas expressed his deep thanks for the service each member of the party had rendered him. "And you say Nicolas, the traitor, is dead?" he questioned. "Yes, your majesty. Nikol here," and Colonel Anderson indicated the dwarf, "saw to that." The king turned to Nikol. Then he commanded: "Come here!" Trembling, in spite of his denial that he was afraid of a king, Nikol approached. The king extended a hand, and Nikol bent one knee and put his lips to the hand. "I thank you," said King Nicholas. Nikol, with flushed face, muttered something unintelligible and backed slowly away. Then the king thanked each member of the party separately. Even Stubbs seemed somewhat abashed by the king's manner. Later Colonel Anderson mentioned the gold they had brought and it was all deposited--fifteen bags of the precious metal--before the king. "Again I thank you," said the monarch. "You may make sure that this gold will be used where it will do the most good." A few moments later the king signified that the audience was at an end. As they passed out he spoke a final word: "If, at any time, there is anything I am able to do for any of you, you have but to command me." All bowed low. "One moment," said the king as they were about to withdraw, "have you quarters?" "No, sire," returned Colonel Anderson. The king spoke to the officer who attended him. "You will see that these gentlemen are provided with suitable quarters at once," he commanded. "They are my guests." The officer saluted and motioned the others to follow him. Outside they were turned over to a second officer, who escorted them to a tent somewhat larger than the rest. "You will make this your quarters," said the officer. "I shall send you an orderly, and if at any time there is anything you require, you have but to mention it to him." He saluted and departed. Left to themselves at last, Hal, Chester and the others looked about. The tent was fitted up comfortably, almost luxuriously. There were seven or eight cots within and the tent had the appearance of having sheltered men of note. "Style to this place, if you ask me," said Stubbs, "Makes a fellow want to turn in and sleep a bit." "And that is just what we'll do," said Chester. "I'm tired out myself." "Same here," agreed Hal. Colonel Anderson and Nikol also announced that they were ready to seek repose at any time, and after some further talk, all lay down and soon were fast asleep. The sun was high in the heavens when Chester opened his eyes. He was up and dressed quickly. Glancing around, he saw that the others, with the exception of Stubbs, who had one eye open, were still fast asleep. "Guess I'll take a little trip by myself," the lad muttered. He moved toward the exit. "Wait a minute, there," Stubbs called, hopping out of his cot. "I'll go with you." "How's that, Mr. Stubbs?" said Chester, pausing. "Why do you arise so early? Thought you always stayed until last." "Don't you believe it," said the little man. "I like to sleep the same as the next fellow, but when I have business on hand I attend to it first." "Business?" repeated Chester. "And what business have you on hand this morning?" "Got to get busy and get some news," was the reply. "I'm going to have a look about this camp, ask some questions, then do a little writing; after which I'll hunt up the official censor and the rest of the gang and see what arrangements I can make toward getting my stuff sent through." "Then I'll go with you on your hunt," Chester decided. "Maybe I can get a few pointers. I might want to get into the newspaper business myself some day." "Don't," said Stubbs. "Take my advice and do anything else. Look at me now, I'm a fair example. Here I've been in this business for fifteen years, and what has it got me, eh? I'll tell you. It's got me a chance to get out and get shot so that people over in the good old U.S.A. can read, with their morning cup of coffee, what is going on in this benighted land. And what do I get for it? Nothing." "And still, the excitement," said Chester. "Excitement?" echoed Stubbs. "Now I ask you, what do I want with excitement? I can get all the excitement I want right back in New York. This is a long way to come looking for excitement." "Well, perhaps so," Chester admitted, "but when you get back home you will be able to tell people who want to know, more about this war than they could read in the _Gazette_." "So I can," Stubbs agreed, "but I wouldn't if these two by four censors didn't stick to their jobs so closely." The little man slapped on his hat and stalked from the tent, calling over his shoulder: "Come on." Chester followed him. Outside, Stubbs made a straight line for the first line troops. "If you want to find out anything, you have got to get right where it is," he declared. "I could stay back here and ask questions, but I want to see things for myself." Chester offered no objections. Suddenly the camp seemed to spring to life. Bugles blew shrilly, men came pouring out of the tents to form into ranks. Officers darted hither and thither, shouting hoarse commands. For a moment all seemed to be confusion, but a moment later, in response to sharp commands, all became quiet and orderly. "Something up," said Chester. Stubbs nodded. "An advance, I imagine," he said. "We'll see." He approached a gruff-looking officer of forbidding aspect and addressed him in French. "Where to?" he asked. "To the attack," was the reply. At the same moment a bugle rang out. Others took it up. It was the command to advance. CHAPTER XVI. AN ENGAGEMENT. Right, left, front and rear of where Stubbs and Chester stood the troops began to move. In front they could make out the heavy guns being dragged forward, officers dashing about and gesticulating excitedly, but order reigning in the midst of apparent confusion. From the rear now dashed a squadron of cavalry, a handsome appearing body of men. A second squadron came into sight and disappeared ahead, to be followed a moment later by a third. Other squadrons passed in rapid succession. Chester and Stubbs kept their positions. Half an hour passed and still the mounted horsemen swept by. Then came the infantry. Column upon column came swinging along at a dog trot, their officers urging them on. They moved silently and swiftly, apparently all ready for the terrible business in hand. "A handsome body of men," said Stubbs. "I have never seen better." "And the size of them," exclaimed Chester. "Must all be over six feet." It did seem so. Great, big, husky-looking fellows they were, strong as gorillas--heavily bearded, most of them, and warmly and snugly dressed. "They'll make these Austrians move around some, with an even break," declared Chester. And still the troops passed, seemingly without end. "Must be an attack in some force," said Chester. "Or reinforcements to check an enemy's advance," declared Stubbs. "Well," said Chester, "if there is going to be a battle, we ought to try and see something of it." "They'll arrest us if we go fooling around here," declared Stubbs. Chester thought quickly. "I'll tell you," he said at length, "you saw the orderly stationed outside our tent?" Stubbs nodded. "We'll go back and get him. Also we'll take Hal and Colonel Anderson. They wouldn't want to miss this." "Don't forget my old friend Nikol," said Stubbs. "Remember he is something of a fighter, too. He'll want to have a look." They made their way back to the tent quickly and aroused the others. The orderly placed at their disposal, once their wants were made known, volunteered to conduct them to the front. "I'll get an automobile," he said, and departed. Five minutes later he was back with a big car and all climbed aboard. A moment later they were being driven rapidly toward the extreme front. There, just behind the first line troops, Hal and Chester made out that the movement was in reality a defensive one. Apparently the men rushed forward so early in the morning were reinforcements. The troops had entrenched themselves hurriedly and were preparing to resist an attack, which, the orderly informed his charges, was expected momentarily. It appeared that the Austrians had made some slight gains the day before and the Montenegrin general staff had reason to believe the offensive would be continued to-day. Accordingly, steps had been taken to resist the invader. As the orderly explained the situation, the battle would probably be fought along a twenty-five-mile front; and he announced that at this particular moment the party was somewhere between the center and the left wing of the Montenegrin army. "Well, we can't see much from here," said Chester. He gazed across the hills. Then he pointed to his right, toward a not far distant elevation, somewhat higher than the others nearby, and also somewhat closer to the Montenegrin center. "Now, if we were up there," he said, "we might be able to see something." The orderly seemed nonplussed. "It is from that eminence that the king and the general staff will witness the struggle," he said, "I do not know--" "Oh, that will be all right," said Stubbs. "The king is a good friend of ours. Why, only last night he said that if we desired anything all we had to do was to call on him. Now, taking the king at his word, what we would desire most is to be allowed to witness the battle from that eminence." The Montenegrin officer hesitated; but only for a moment. Then he said: "If those were the king's words, he no doubt will forgive me for leading you thither." "Most certainly he will," declared Stubbs; "in fact, he will thank you for bringing us to him." The officer, without further words, proceeded as desired, and ten minutes later, having left the big army automobile, they climbed the eminence and took their positions not far from where the king and the general staff stood viewing the Austrian lines through their glasses. Even as they settled themselves as comfortably as possible, the first big gun of the enemy boomed. Other big guns from the Montenegrin lines took up the action and soon the artillery engagement became general. The air was filled with terrible din and it was next to impossible to make oneself heard above the roar of battle. Hidden batteries in the Montenegrin lines were making their fire felt. Shielded from the enemy in front, they were also, in most cases, made invisible to the Austrian air craft that continually hovered overhead, sheltered as they were in dense clumps of trees and bushes. From the Montenegrin lines now went a small fleet of aeroplanes, seeking out the hiding places of the enemy artillery and signaling back the range to the Montenegrin gunners. For an hour the duel of big guns continued without other action of any kind. Now and then the spectators were able to make out the effect of an enemy shell as it struck within the Montenegrin line, but they were unable to determine the result of the Montenegrin fire. Came the sound of a bugle from the rear. "Something up!" shouted Chester at the top of his voice. Hal nodded but said nothing. He did not feel equal to making himself heard above the terrible roar of battle. From the Austrian line suddenly issued a squadron of cavalry, closely followed by many other squadrons. It became apparent to the spectators that the enemy had determined to silence the Montenegrin guns, or a portion of them, at any rate, by a charge. On they came in the very face of a hail of lead that cut great gaps in their ranks, mowing men and riders down like chaff before a storm. But as fast as the ranks were thinned, they filled up again as the Austrians continued their charge, while from their rear the great Austrian guns continued to hurl their messengers of death over their heads into the ranks of the Montenegrins beyond. Straight for a little woods in the center of the long battle line the Austrian cavalry dashed, their intention apparently being to seek temporary shelter there before charging some other part of the Montenegrin line. Now they were almost to the trees and it seemed that they must find shelter there. This would mean that it would be a hard task for the Montenegrins to dislodge them. They were less than a hundred yards away when there came a fresh, terrible rumble and roar. A Montenegrin masked battery had opened with its rapid-firers. Men dropped in great heaps, but the others came on. The Austrian officer in command, realizing that he was in a trap, took the one chance left him. With what men he had, cut off from his infantry support as he was, he must either capture that masked battery, die or surrender. The only support he had now was from his own artillery, and a moment later that, too, became silent, for the masked Montenegrin battery could not be shelled without imminent risk of shooting down Austrian as well as Montenegrin. On came the Austrians in a desperate and spectacular charge. Of the number that had sallied forth from the Austrian trench, less than half remained when they came to the edge of the little woods. These few hurled themselves forward with the utmost bravery and abandon, and for a moment it seemed that they might reach the guns, which Hal and Chester, from the eminence, could see. But at that moment four squadrons of Montenegrin cavalry, fresh and eager for the fray, were hurled forward. They dashed out with a yell, and the two forces met just beyond the fringe of trees. There was a terrific shock as they came together and in a moment all was confusion. Men cursed, slashed, stabbed and discharged revolvers at each other, while the horses of the opposing forces fought as well as their riders. The Montenegrin battery had now become silent, for to have fired would have been to endanger the life of friend as well as foe. The horsemen struggled desperately, hand-to-hand. But the force of the Austrian charge had been spent. The few who remained fought bravely, but they were no match for the fresher and more powerful Montenegrin horsemen, among the best fighters in the whole world. Slowly the Austrians were forced back. Then they gave ground faster and faster, until finally those who were left turned their horses and fled back toward their own lines. For perhaps a hundred yards the Montenegrins pursued, then, at the call of a bugle, they halted and turned back. A moment later the rapid-firers broke loose again, cutting great holes in the ranks of the fleeing Austrians. The latter retreated even faster than they had charged, but by the time they reached the shelter of their own lines their number had been thinned by fully three-fourths. All the way across the field dead and wounded strewed the ground. The successful Montenegrins paused for a moment and cheered wildly; then they took stock of their own dead and wounded, for they had not escaped scot-free. The hand-to-hand struggle, though brief, had been severe while it lasted, and the Austrians fought hard and well. The Montenegrin losses, though comparatively light, had been severe. While the cavalry action was being fought, the artillery fire had slackened perceptibly; but now the cavalry of each side--what was left of it--had returned to its own lines. The big guns took up the duel anew with even greater vigor than before. CHAPTER XVII. THE BATTLE CONTINUES. Hal, Chester and Colonel Anderson had watched the battle with the eyes of veterans; Stubbs had taken in the scene with the eye of a newspaper man in the search of news. Nikol, the dwarf, had gazed at the struggling knot of horsemen in undisguised amazement. As the Austrians, defeated, had withdrawn, each had drawn a deep breath. "A terrible spectacle, when you stop to think of it," said Hal slowly. "Terrible, indeed," agreed Colonel Anderson quietly; "and yet it must go on and on until the power of the Teuton allies has been crushed out forever." "Which it will be," said Chester quietly. All turned their eyes to the battlefield once more. Even from where they stood they could discern a sudden activity in the Austrian lines. The action of the big field pieces became more vigorous than before. Hal, Chester and Colonel Anderson guessed the answer immediately, as, probably, did the officers of King Nicholas' forces. The next Austrian move was to be a grand assault under cover of artillery fire. The problem to be solved was where it would be delivered--in the center, on the right, or on the left flank. For a brief instant Hal turned his eyes from the battlefield to the place where King Nicholas and his staff stood. Officers were arriving and departing in haste, carrying orders to the various commanders. The fire of the Montenegrin guns also became more violent; but it was evident that the Montenegrin staff had decided to take no action until they were confident of just where the Austrians would strike. The noise of the cannonading was tremendous. It was like the continual roar of the loudest peal of thunder. The very ground trembled from the vibrations of the big guns. From the Austrian trenches now poured thousands of men at the double--poured in dense masses toward the Montenegrin center, the while the Austrian artillery shelled the Montenegrin center with greater energy than at any time since the battle began. Apparently the enemy had determined upon the Montenegrin center as the objective of its grand assault. In the open field, a small plateau, the Austrians reformed coolly, in spite of the death-dealing fire from the Montenegrin lines. The field was packed closely with the enemy, now less than half a mile away. At this distance the fire of the Montenegrin artillery was terribly effective, but the Austrian line did not waver. Steadily forward it came; and now the Montenegrins moved to meet the attack. Apparently satisfied that there was no question that the center was to be the main objective of the enemy, the Montenegrin staff ordered the bulk of the Balkan army massed there to beat back the foe. Regiments and brigades were hurriedly drawn from the two flanks to reinforce the center. The left wing was weakened badly. A quarter of a mile from the first Montenegrin trench the Austrians charged fiercely. All eyes were turned to that section of the field. The shock was but a few moments away. At that moment--almost the moment of impact--a second line of men issued from the Austrian, trenches, this time on the Montenegrin left wing. These, too, supported by artillery and strong bodies of cavalry, came forward in a charge. It seemed the Austrian commander had outgeneraled the Montenegrins, for it did not seem possible that the Montenegrin left flank could be reinforced in time to successfully withstand the shock of the Austrian attack, and there could be no doubt now that the left flank was where the main attack would be delivered. The assault upon the center had been a feint--nothing more. The main bodies of Austrians were to be hurled against the Montenegrin left, in an effort to turn it before reinforcements could be hurried from the right flank to support the threatened center and left. But King Nicholas, taking matters in his own hands, acted quickly. In spite of the protests of his officers, he ordered the reinforcements so recently massed in his center back to strengthen his left; then ordered that the center hold firm at all hazards and against all numbers. He hurried reinforcements from his right to support his center, and having taken these precautions, he was ready to give battle. The Austrian attacking force and the Montenegrin center had come in contact long before the king had made his other moves, but there was no doubt in Nicholas' mind that his sturdy mountaineers could hold their trenches against larger numbers of the enemy. One, two, three times the Austrians charged the trenches in the Montenegrin center. Three times they were driven back with terrible losses. The Montenegrins, in the shelter of their trenches, fought stubbornly and tenaciously. Once the first line of Austrians succeeded in obtaining a foothold in the first trench and hand-to-hand fighting ensued. At this style of fighting the Austrians were no match for the sturdy Balkan warriors, and they were soon forced out again. Meanwhile the Austrian main attack had come in contact with the Montenegrin left wing. Outnumbered two to one, sometimes more, the defenders fought gallantly. But the Austrians, by the very weight of numbers, swooped down upon the defenders of the first line trenches in spite of the heavy Montenegrin artillery fire. The Montenegrins were forced to fall back to their second line; but they contested every inch of ground and by the time they had been forced out, reinforcements began to arrive. The second line of trenches held in spite of all attempts of the enemy to force them. Reinforcements continued to arrive. The Austrian artillery had now slackened its fire perceptibly, for there was danger of mowing down its own men. King Nicholas decided upon a bold stroke. Secure in the fact that the Austrian guns could not be used at the moment, and having every confidence in his stalwart troops, in spite of the fact that they were heavily outnumbered, King Nicholas ordered a charge. A cheer went up along the Montenegrin line. With bayonets fixed and every nerve tense, the Montenegrins poured suddenly from their trenches. They charged like wild men. The advantage of the surprise was theirs--the advantage of their impetuous devotion to the cause they served; and the force of their charge was irresistible. It carried all before it. In vain the Austrian officers tried to rally their men. The sight of these determined, grim-faced men pouring from their trenches bewildered the Austrian troops. They gave ground, slowly at first, then more swiftly; and five minutes later they were in full retreat, with the Montenegrins in close pursuit. Once the Austrian commander succeeded in reforming his men for a stand; but the Montenegrins rushed on as though they could have carried the Rock of Gibraltar itself, and again the Austrians broke and fled. The Montenegrins pursued them for probably a quarter of a mile, cutting them down and bayoneting them as they ran. Then the bugle sounded a recall and the Montenegrins drew off. It was then, too, that the great Austrian guns opened on them again, doing fearful havoc. The Montenegrins suffered greater losses on their return to their trenches than they had during the entire engagement up to that time. In the center, the battle was still raging; but now that he had been victorious on his left, King Nicholas immediately hurled his weary men to the support of his center. Also he drew upon his already weakened right wing; for the advantage was his and he was determined to make the most of it. The Austrians fell back in the center. Now the Montenegrins opened with their heavy artillery, which was rushed forward to shell the retreating foe. Again King Nicholas ordered a charge along his entire front. With the present morale among the enemy, King Nicholas decided it was time to push his advantage further. He had determined to drive the foe from its own trenches. The Montenegrins advanced confidently all along the line, pursuing the Austrians closely in the center. Cavalry and infantry, under the protection of the giant batteries, were hurled forward and dashed upon the Austrians with ferocity. Rapidly they covered the open distance to the first Austrian trenches and leaped into them without thought of death. The Austrians, brought to bay at last, fought desperately, but the Montenegrins, once having gained the whip hand, were not to be denied. The fighting in the Austrian trenches continued for what seemed an eternity; but finally the Austrians broke and fled. The Montenegrins, flushed with victory, advanced again, and under cover of their artillery, stormed the enemy's second line trenches. These, too, were won after a desperate struggle and heavy losses on both sides, and with these the Montenegrins, worn and spent, rested content. The troops were for pushing on after the Austrians, but King Nicholas called a halt. "My brave men!" he exclaimed, with tears in his eyes. "They have done a day's work to-day that will live in memory for generations to come. It is a brilliant victory." The duel of heavy guns continued, but the infantry fighting was over for the day. The Montenegrins, in their newly won trenches, fell to preparing them to resist the attack that they knew would come sooner or later, while the Austrians were taking account of their losses and making ready for a new assault. Stubbs laid a hand on Chester's arm. "Didn't I tell you they looked like real fighters?" he exclaimed. "Certainly, I have never seen better," returned the lad. Stubbs turned to Nikol. "Well, Nikol," said he, "what do you think of these fellows as fighters?" Nikol eyed him in silence for several moments. But at last he spoke. "Mr. Stubbs," he said quietly, "they are better fighters than you or I." CHAPTER XVIII. IVAN AGAIN. "Come," said Colonel Anderson, "the battle is over. There will be no more fighting to-day. Let us move." Slowly all made their way back toward their quarters, talking over the battle as they went. It was late in the afternoon. The battle had raged all day, and now for the first time the friends felt the need of food. Instead of taking camp fare, to which they were invited by the Montenegrin officer who accompanied them, they decided to go to a little village not far from the camp, where the officer informed them they could get a substantial meal at a certain, little restaurant. Thither they made their way and to their satisfaction found the information correct. Then, their appetites satisfied, they left the restaurant and started back to the camp. It was now after dark and as they walked slowly, discussing events of the day, they came upon a knot of men engaged in some sort of an argument. "My curiosity always gets the better of me," said Chester. "Let's have a look," and he led the way toward the gesticulating group. It was plain, as they drew nearer, that the argument was heated. Loud voices broke the stillness of the night, and one of them, a deep bass, had a familiar ring. One look at the faces in the crowd and they recognized its owner. It was none other than Ivan, whom they had last seen when he made his dash for liberty in the mountains. Ivan was in the very center of the crowd, and as Hal, Chester and the others came close, in the glare of a dim light he could be seen gesticulating violently. "I tell you," he shouted, "I have no money." "But you showed two bags of gold in the restaurant," said one of the men pressing in on him. "Well, what if I did?" demanded Ivan. "That gold is not mine. It belongs to your king and I am taking it to him." "A likely story," said one man in the crowd with a sneer. "You stole it some place. We want a share." "Oh, you do?" said Ivan, and he broke into a loud laugh. "Well, you won't get it. First, however, I want to tell you again, that I did not steal the money and that it is not mine." "Then why," said another of the crowd, "why did you dip into one of the bags to pay for a drink at the restaurant?" "Why?" echoed Ivan in a loud voice. "I'll tell you. Because I was dry." "But if the gold is not yours?" For a moment Ivan appeared somewhat flustered. But he made answer after a moment. "I am entitled to the price of a glass of wine for carrying this gold for the king. That's why." "It's my belief you filled up on wine before you got the gold," said another voice in the crowd. "You may have any belief you choose," shouted Ivan angrily. "But now stand aside. I am going on my way." "Not until you give us a share of your spoils," said a voice close to him. "Ho!" said Ivan. "You think so. Ho! Ho!" He took a step forward and his merriment subsided. "Stand aside there!" he commanded sternly. For a moment it appeared that the crowd would give before him, but a man in the back of the crowd cried: "What! will you run from one man, a drunken man at that?" Another, closer to the giant, reached out a hand and sought to clutch the bag of gold Ivan held in his left hand. With a sudden movement and a loud cry, Ivan stretched forth a hand and seized the man by the throat. Then he lifted him high in the air and hurled him through space. The man struck the ground with a loud cry of pain. At the same instant a second man struck at Ivan with a club. With a cry of anger, Ivan reached forth and seized the club; then, whirling it about his head, brought it down on the man's skull. The man toppled over like a log. Now Ivan began to laugh in glee. "Ho! Ho!" he cried. "Come on and take the gold," and he brandished it aloft in his left hand. "What! Are you afraid of one man? Ho! Ho!" The crowd gave back as Ivan moved forward. A man from behind sprang forward and stabbed the giant between the shoulders with a thin knife. Ivan whirled about with a terrible cry. Then, raising his recently acquired club, he dashed in among the crowd and laid about him right and left. Men went down on all sides and in a moment the others turned and fled. One, from a distance, drew a revolver and fired. Whether the bullet came close to the giant, Hal could not tell, but he drew his own revolver, and springing forward, cried: "That's enough of this! The next man to make a move I'll put a bullet through." Chester, Nikol and Colonel Anderson ranged themselves by Hal's side and also produced their automatics. Seeing nothing else to do, Stubbs also joined them and flourished a revolver. The crowd gave back. Ivan turned upon the newcomers in surprise. Then he cried in a great voice: "Well! Well! and where did you come from? I had made sure you had deserted me." "No, we haven't deserted you," said Hal. "We simply missed you, that's all." "Well, it's all right, anyhow," said Ivan. "Now come to the restaurant with me and I shall buy wine for all of us." "Thanks, Ivan, but we don't drink wine," said Hal quietly. "If you will come with us to our quarters we will talk matters over." "Not I, not until I have had wine," declared Ivan. "But you have had enough wine," declared Chester. "And how do you know I have had enough wine?" demanded Ivan, turning upon the lad. "The way you talk makes it plain enough," replied Chester quietly. "Come, Ivan, let's get away from here." "Well," said Ivan hesitatingly, "maybe you are right." Turning he caught sight of Nikol. "Why, there is my old friend Nikol," he shouted. "Nikol, you will join me in a bottle of wine?" "I shall be pleased," said Nikol, with a smile. "Good. Come with me." He turned and made as though to move away, when suddenly his eyes lighted upon Stubbs. "Ho! Ho!" he laughed. "And my friend Stubbs here shall accompany us." "Thanks; some other time," said Stubbs nervously. For answer Ivan leaned down, picked the little man up in his arms and walked away with him in spite of Stubbs' cries and struggles. Nikol went along and for once he did not offer to take Stubbs' part. "Great Scott! Hal, we can't stand for this," said Chester. "What shall we do?" "Go along, I should say," said Colonel Anderson. "But we don't drink wine," protested Hal. "There is no reason you should. If you can get Ivan seated and talk to him he will be all right in a few minutes. Besides, he is likely to get into more trouble this way." "I guess you're right," said Hal. "Come on, Chester." The three followed Nikol, Ivan and the latter's struggling burden in the person of Stubbs. They entered the restaurant right behind the others and took seats at the same table. Ivan greeted them with a smile. "Glad to see you came along," he said. He turned to Stubbs. "What will you have?" "Thanks, I don't drink," said Stubbs fearfully. "Now, Mr. Stubbs!" said Ivan with a comical grin. Hal now decided the affair had gone far enough. "Listen to me, Ivan," he said quietly. "Stubbs doesn't want any wine and neither do the rest of us. You have had enough." "And what have you to do with it?" demanded Ivan loudly. "Just this," said Hal, and produced a revolver. "Before I'll stand for any more of this nonsense, I'll put a hole through you. Understand?" Ivan looked at the lad, apparently bewildered, for some moments. Then he said with a laugh: "Don't you ever shoot at me with that gun. Not ever!" He rose to his feet and faced Hal threateningly. The lad was nonplussed. He had no idea that his bluff wouldn't work. He knew of course that he could never shoot the Cossack. It was Chester who saved the day. "Ivan," he said quietly. "That's not your money." "What--what's that?" said Ivan, turning to him suddenly. "I said that's not your money. Surely you are not a thief?" "A thief?" cried Ivan. "Who says I am a thief?" "I do, if you touch the money in the bag you hold there," said Chester quietly. For a moment it seemed that the big Cossack would spring upon Chester; but the lad stood his ground, and suddenly Ivan sank down in a chair. "No, I'm not a thief," he mumbled. "I'm not going to be a thief." He threw the bag of gold down heavily on the table and looked thoughtfully into space. Chester approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "There," he said calmly, "I knew you wouldn't. This, you know, is the king's money. You wouldn't touch that?" "No," said Ivan, then added hastily: "but I have touched it. I bought wine with it; and it wasn't my money." His remorse was so apparent that Chester was forced to smile. "Why, that's all right," he said. "You are going to pay him back. Now come with us." Again Ivan was silent for several moments. "That's right," he said at last. "I'm going to pay him back." He rose to his feet. "Come, I shall go with you," and they all passed out into the night. CHAPTER XIX. INTO SERBIA. Two days later and we find our friends once more in the air and sailing swiftly toward the rising sun. "Seems to me we should be along about there some place," declared Hal, taking his eyes from the distance ahead for a brief moment. "Unless you have not gauged your course accurately," replied Chester. "I'm sure I have made no mistake," said Hal. "Then we should be about there." "About where, that's what I want to know," put in Anthony Stubbs, from his place in the rear of the large army plane, the same in which the four friends had made their escape from the Austrians not so many days before. "Where are we headed for, anyway?" "That will be a little surprise for you, Mr. Stubbs," Chester returned. "I'm getting too old to care much about surprises," declared Stubbs. "In the first place, I have no business in this machine, anyhow. I never was much good when my feet were not on the ground, and I feel pretty sick up here." "Oh, you'll get used to that, Stubbs," spoke up Colonel Anderson. "Don't you believe it. I've tried it before and I haven't become used to it yet. No, sir. In the first place, a man has got no business up here. If he were meant to fly, he'd have wings, like a bird. I claim it's tempting Providence to go floating about through space in one of these things." "Well, you didn't seem to hesitate much when we asked you to come," commented Chester. "Of course not. Think I want to be left alone in this benighted land, with a couple of million Austrians likely to swoop down on it at any minute? I guess not. The air may not be safe, but it can't be any worse than I would have been if I were left behind to await the arrival of the invader. But where are we going?" "Belgrade," said Chester briefly. Anthony Stubbs half started to his feet. "Great Scott!" he exclaimed, and sank back again. "Out of the frying pan into the fire. Say!" and his voice rose a trifle, "What do we want to go to Belgrade for? What's the use of sticking our heads into a hornet's nest?" "Look here, Mr. Stubbs," said Hal, again turning in his seat. "Don't you want to go to Belgrade with us? If you don't, I'll go down and let you off here." He reduced the speed of the craft a trifle. "No, no. Never mind," said Stubbs hurriedly. "I was just joking. Of course I want to go to Belgrade. They tell me that the Germans are just about to come in. But that won't make any difference, will it? No, indeed. Not to us. I suppose we are going to be there to welcome them. I'll bet they'll be glad to see us." The others smiled, but they made no reply to this outburst. They had known Stubbs long enough now not to pay much attention to him at times. And this was one of those times. Stubbs now turned a bit in his seat and spoke to another figure who was close to him. "How do you like this kind of travel, Ivan?" he asked. "I belong on the ground," was the brief response. Ivan's face was a chalky white, but he was sitting tight and saying nothing except when it was absolutely necessary. Just behind him sat Nikol, and the latter seemed to be in a condition similar to Ivan. Nor did he make a sound. Suddenly, as the aeroplane moved swiftly along, there came a loud explosion. The machine rocked crazily and Hal's prompt action at the wheel was all that saved the occupants from being pitched head-first into space. He righted the craft with an effort. "What's the matter?" demanded Chester in no little alarm. "It's all over now," mumbled Stubbs with a groan. "Pray, Ivan." The big Cossack seemed to have no doubt that it was all over and while he clung to the side of the machine with both hands, he mumbled strange words in his native tongue. Apparently he was following Stubbs' injunction. "I don't know," replied Hal, answering Chester's question. "Something seems to have gone wrong with the engine. Guess we had better go down." He tilted the elevating levers and the plane descended gradually and swiftly. Under Hal's firm hand it settled gently upon the ground and all immediately climbed out. Stubbs drew a great breath of relief. "I never expected to reach here alive," he declared. Ivan and Nikol also were plainly relieved. They said nothing, but the expression upon both their faces spoke plainer than words. Hal bent over the engine. As he straightened up, Chester asked: "Anything serious?" "Believe I can fix it within an hour," replied Hal. "I'll have a try at it, anyhow." "Need any assistance?" asked Colonel Anderson. Hal shook his head. "Nothing you can do, I guess," he replied. "Then I am going to take a little prowl into these woods here," said the colonel, indicating a small clump of trees that stood perhaps a quarter of a mile to the east. "I'll go along," said Chester. "I feel like stretching my legs a bit." The two walked away together. Ivan and Nikol remained behind and watched Hal tinker with the engine. Chester and the colonel prowled about among the trees for the better part of half an hour and then turned to make their way back to the machine. As they walked along, Chester suddenly caught Colonel Anderson by the arm, stopping him in his stride. "Sh-h-h," muttered the lad and listened intently. "What's the matter?" demanded Colonel Anderson, in a low voice. "Thought I heard voices," replied Chester. "Listen." Both became silent; and directly they caught the sound of a low voice off to the right. Then there came a second and a third voice. "Don't see what they can be doing here, whoever they are," declared Chester in a whisper. "We'll see if we can get a look at them." He led the way softly in the direction from which the voices had come. The voices became louder; and directly, parting two large bushes, Chester made out the forms of three figures not ten yards away. He turned quickly to Colonel Anderson and laid a finger to his lips. The colonel approached cautiously. From the spot where the two stood it was possible to see the three men in front of them without danger of being seen themselves, for they were screened from sight by the large bushes. One of the men was attired in what Chester took to be a Serbian uniform, but the others were in civilian attire. "We'll do a little eavesdropping," whispered Chester. Colonel Anderson nodded and they became silent. "So you say that everything is ready for Bulgaria's entrance into the war?" spoke the man with the uniform. "Yes," replied one of the others, a man of perhaps forty years of age, with a long flowing beard. "And she will strike when?" "The moment Belgrade has fallen before the Germans," replied the third man, who, the watchers saw now, was little more than a boy, smooth of face and bright of eye. "And they will strike where?" "At the Anglo-French force being rushed from Saloniki to the aid of the Serbians." "Why wasn't I kept posted on all this? How was I expected to do my part here, being left in ignorance of diplomatic affairs?" "I don't know anything about that. All I know is that we were ordered here to learn what success you have had in undermining the Serbian officials. Also to get your views upon which way the Serbians will retreat." "Well, I can tell you that in a few words. I have had very little success with the Serbians. They are loyal to their cause and seem determined to fight to the last ditch. But I did get close enough to one man--a member of the general staff--to learn that in the event of reverses to Serbian arms, the Serbian army will retreat into Greece." "So? I had deemed it most likely they would fall back and join the Montenegrins." "Such is not the plan of the general staff. Their reasons I cannot tell you; but at a guess I should say it is because they hope that, by a juncture with the Anglo-French forces, they may hope to show an effective front until Italy can throw an army to their support, or possibly until the long expected Russian offensive materializes." "Then we shall have to bring some pressure to bear upon Greece," said the younger man. "We cannot permit that. Bulgaria must get in the game sooner and thus foil such a plan." "Well, you probably know best," said the officer, "but remember one thing. To all intents and purposes, Bulgaria is still neutral. Announcement that she has decided to cast her lot with the Central Powers, if premature, undoubtedly would spoil many plans. Particularly, if it came to the ears of the Anglo-French commander at Saloniki." "Exactly," replied the young man. "Our plans now are to permit the Allies to advance a considerable distance toward Belgrade, and then to have Bulgaria declare war at the psychological moment." "A good plan, that," returned the officer. "But I must get back now. My absence will be noticed and I do not care to arouse suspicion." The men moved off. Chester and Colonel Anderson gazed at each other. "Rather neat little play," said Colonel Anderson. "Rather," repeated Chester dryly. "And to think," continued Colonel Anderson, "how leniently Bulgaria has been treated by the Allies. Well, her day of reckoning will come." "We'll have to get word of this to the Serbian commander in Belgrade," said Chester. "So we will," said the colonel. "And also to the commander of the Anglo-French forces in Saloniki." "Let's get back then and see if Hal has the machine fixed so she'll fly." They retraced their footsteps; and even as they arrived, Hal arose from his position above the aeroplane. "She'll go now all right," he said. "All aboard!" Stubbs, Nikol and Ivan hesitated and Stubbs protested. Chester drew Hal aside for a moment and told him what he and the colonel had learned. Hal wasted no further time. "In here with all of you," he commanded gruffly. "We're going right now." The others hesitated no longer, and a few moments later the big machine was flying swiftly toward the Serbian capital. CHAPTER XX. THE END OF A TRAITOR. It was two years after the outbreak of the great war that the Austro-German armies were hurled forward in a great and final effort to crush Serbia. Since the early days of the struggle, heavy battles had been fought upon the Austro-Serbian frontier, with success first to one side and then to the other. Belgrade, the Serbian capital, had been bombarded time after time by the great Austrian guns and once the city had been occupied by the foe. Later, however, the Serbians had driven out the invader and reoccupied the capital. And now, the Austrian army, reinforced by a hundred thousand Germans, bringing the total number of troops to half a million, was again knocking at the gates of Belgrade; and the Serbians, realizing the utter hopelessness of their cause unless aid arrived from the Anglo-French troops at Saloniki, were preparing to flee. This was the situation when the aeroplane bearing Hal, Chester and their friends descended just outside the city. Hardly had they alighted when they were taken in charge by a squad of Serbian troops. Colonel Anderson, acting as spokesman for the party, explained their presence in a few well-chosen words and asked to be taken to the commanding officer. There was considerable red tape to go through before the friends finally were ushered into the presence of the Serbian commander, and that worthy immediately informed them he had but a few moments to give them. Colonel Anderson, therefore, came to the point at once. He told him of the conversation he and Chester had overheard a short time before. "And you say one of the men wore a Serbian uniform?" asked the general. "Yes, sir." "You don't know who he is--you didn't hear his name mentioned?" "No, sir; but I would know him again if I saw him." "Good. You shall have the chance. Now, how far from the city do you say this conversation took place?" "Must have been all of ten miles, sir." "Then the men have hardly returned to the city yet. And you say you did not hear the name of the member of the general staff, the first traitor, or spy mentioned as having divulged information?" "No, sir." "Very well. Now I will leave all of you here for an hour or so. I have some matters to attend to. When I come back we'll see if you can identify the man you speak of." The general bowed to them and took his departure, leaving them alone in his quarters. From without a heavy cannonading could be heard. "I guess the last advance has begun," said Chester slowly. "You probably are right," agreed Hal. "And I feel sorry for these Serbians. If the British and French could only get here in time." "Well, I don't see why they don't," declared Chester. "England has promised more than once since the war began that she would not permit Serbia to be crushed. Seems to me she should have taken some decisive action before now." "You forget," said Colonel Anderson, "that England has her hands full in other parts of the great war theater--France, Belgium, the Dardanelles, Egypt, India and Africa." "That's the trouble," said Hal. "England has too many irons in the fire. That's where the Germans and Austrians have the edge, as we say in the United States. Their armies are not scattered all over the world." "That's true enough," replied Colonel Anderson, "and it is, without doubt, the reason the Central Powers have not been crushed long ago." Ivan now took a hand in the conversation. "These wonderful tales you told me of my brother Alexis," he began. "Well, what of them?" asked Hal. "Why," said Ivan. "When I came with you I thought I should see some fighting. All I have done is fly through the air, like a bird, and hear a thousand miles of talk. I want to see some fighting, like Alexis saw." "You probably will see it soon enough," returned Chester quietly. "Even now you can hear the booming of the great guns without. The Austro-Germans are moving on Belgrade and it will only be hours before the Serbian retreat begins." The conversation continued along various lines until the return of the Serbian commander, General Save. "If you will come with me," he said to Colonel Anderson, "I will see if you can identify the traitor. Which of your friends here was with you?" Colonel Anderson nodded toward Chester. "Then he shall come, too. The others may remain here until we return." Hal, Ivan and Nikol were undeniably disappointed at this turn of affairs. Not so Stubbs. "This comes nearer being what I call comfort than anything I have enjoyed since coming across to Europe," he said, settling himself in the commander's easy chair and drawing exhilarating puffs from his pipe. "I don't care how long we stay here." "Mr. Stubbs," said Hal, "I am afraid you are lazy." "Mr. Paine," said Stubbs, "I know I'm lazy." Leaving the general's quarters, Colonel Anderson and Chester accompanied the Serbian commander toward the front. "The enemy has begun his advance," General Save explained, as they walked along. "He is attacking in force all along the line. We are resisting as well as we may. That is why every available man has been sent forward. We will find the traitor there some place." "And do you have any hope of holding back the enemy, sir?" Chester asked. "None," returned the general quietly. "We will resist to the last, but even now preparations are being made for evacuating the capital. With the coming of darkness, the retreat will begin. We shall fall back to Nish, which, I trust, we shall be able to hold until Anglo-French assistance arrives." "I hope so, sir," declared Chester. "And as soon as you have picked out this traitor for me," said General Save, "I will ask you to undertake a mission for me." "We shall be glad to be of service, sir," replied Colonel Anderson. "And the nature of the mission?" "Why," said the commander. "I have information to the effect that the Anglo-French troops are already on the way from Saloniki. They may not know of the real seriousness of our position. Communication has been hampered for the last few days. I will send word to them by you." "Very well, sir," said Colonel Anderson. "We shall be glad to go." "Now keep your eyes open," said General Save, as they came for the first time among the Serbian troops, the men farthest from the front, men being held in reserve. Among the regiments the three passed slowly, scanning the face of every officer; and they came upon their man sooner than they could reasonably have hoped. Chester suddenly touched General Save on the arm. "Look! There he is!" the lad said in a low voice. The general glanced in the direction indicated. Perhaps twenty yards to the left, engaged in conversation with an officer who wore colonel's stripes, and a man whom General Save immediately recognized as one of the general staff, stood the person the lads had seen in the woods a few hours earlier. "Are you sure that is he?" demanded the Serbian commander. Chester nodded his head vigorously. "Certain, sir," Colonel Anderson agreed. "Very good. Then come with me." The general approached the group of officers, who stood respectfully at attention when they perceived his approach. "Captain Dellse!" said the General. "Sir," replied the officer, stepping toward the Serbian commander. The older officer looked squarely into the man's eyes for several moments without saying a word. The traitor tried his best to return the general's steady gaze and for a moment he succeeded. Then his eyes wavered slightly. General Save extended his right hand. "Your sword, sir!" he commanded. The other staggered back and his face turned a ghastly white. "Wha--what, sir?" he stammered. "Your sword," repeated the general calmly, his hand still extended. With a visible effort the other pulled himself together. "I do not understand you, sir," he said, with a subdued air of insolence, glancing quickly about at the others who now surrounded him. General Save lost all patience now. He took a step forward. "Give me your sword, you traitor!" he commanded angrily. "You are under arrest. You shall be shot in ten minutes." The face of the accused officer turned livid. There was no pretending to misunderstand now. Quickly he glanced about him. Chester and Colonel Anderson, in their civilian clothes, stood each with a hand in his right coat pocket, and in the hand of each rested a little automatic. An ever increasing group of Serbian officers also surrounded him. The man with whom the traitor had been engaged in conversation moved gradually toward the rear of the circle. General Save caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye. "Colonel Breyold!" he commanded. The other halted. "Come here, sir," commanded the general. Glancing furtively about him, the other obeyed. The Serbian commander turned to another of his officers. "Relieve Colonel Breyold of his sword," he commanded. Without waiting to see that his command was carried out, he stepped close to Dellse. The other gave way before him and with a sudden movement produced a revolver. Before those nearby could interfere, he had raised the weapon and pulled the trigger. There was a sharp report, a flash of fire, and when the smoke had cleared away, Dellse and General Save were locked in each other's embrace, struggling furiously. With loud cries other Serbian officers jumped forward and separated the combatants. Dellse's weapon was wrested from his grasp and in a moment he was powerless. "Are you hurt, sir?" asked one of the officers anxiously of the general. "No," was the reply. With a gesture of his arm, he indicated the two traitors. "Take them out and shoot them immediately!" he ordered. CHAPTER XXI. ACROSS MACEDONIA. "No," said Hal, "I am afraid to take a chance with our old airplane. It hasn't been gone over thoroughly yet. If General Save is anxious for us to go at once, Chester, you and Colonel Anderson go on ahead. I'll look our machine over and follow you." "Well, whatever you say," said Chester. "The general is anxious that we start at once and perhaps the way you suggest will do as well as another." "I'm going with the first party," declared Ivan at this juncture. "I'm tired of sitting about doing nothing. I want to be on the move. If something doesn't happen pretty soon, I'm going back to the Albanian Mountains." "I'll be glad to have you go with me," said Chester. "Hal, you can bring Stubbs and Nikol with you." Hal nodded. "All right. Then you had better see the general about a craft of some kind." Chester hastened away, but was back a few moments later with the announcement that General Save would have a plane ready for them within the hour. Hal and Chester then examined a map of the country carefully and laid out a course. It was agreed that Hal should follow the same course, for, as Chester said, there was little likelihood of anything going wrong, but coming along the same route the second craft would always have a chance of rendering aid should it be needed. The lads agreed to meet at Saloniki the following day. It was nearly dark when the machine carrying Chester, Colonel Anderson and Ivan soared in the air and headed south over Macedonia--once the kingdom of Philip and Alexander the Great. Stubbs, Nikol and Hal watched their friends disappear in the distance with some misgiving, which was given expression by Stubbs. "I hope they get there safely," he muttered, "but I have my doubts." "See here, Mr. Stubbs," said Hal. "You've gone through a lot, but you are still here, aren't you?" "I am," said Stubbs calmly, "but I wish I were some place else." "Well, give me an hour or two to look over our machine and you will soon be some place else," said Hal. "And the chances are I'd rather be some place than where I am likely to be if I keep monkeying around in the air," replied the little man. Hal raised both hands in a gesture of hopelessness. "There's no use talking to you," he said. "I'll leave you both here while I overhaul the plane." He took himself off. Chester, Colonel Anderson and Ivan sailed swiftly through the air. Darkness fell, but it was a bright night and Chester, at the wheel, could see without difficulty. The passengers were quite comfortable in spite of the cold. "Aren't you getting a bit too low?" asked Colonel Anderson after a couple of hours flying in the darkness. "Thousand feet," said Chester after a glance at the indicator. "Doesn't seem like it to me," said the colonel. "Think I can see the ground below." "You shouldn't at this altitude," said Chester. "I know it. Guess I was mistaken." Half an hour later the colonel spoke again. "Have you come down any, Chester?" "No; why?" "I'm sure I can see the ground below," returned the colonel. Chester glanced over the side of the plane. "By Jove! So can I," he exclaimed. He glanced at the indicator again. It still read a trifle over a thousand feet. "Something wrong some place," he said to himself. He tilted the elevating lever, but the plane did not answer by a sudden rush upward. Chester gave a long whistle. "What's the matter?" demanded Colonel Anderson. "I don't know," returned Chester. "We're going down gradually, I know that, but the indicator still reads a thousand feet and I can't move the plane any higher." "And you don't know what is wrong?" "Haven't the slightest idea. I'm no airship expert." "Then you shouldn't try to run one," declared Ivan. "Now don't get worried, Ivan," said Chester with a laugh. "We'll get down again all right." "We'll probably get down," said Ivan, "but the thing that worries me is whether it will be all right or not. I want to die with my feet on the ground and not be dashed against the earth head first." "I'm sure there is no danger," said Chester. "We're just sinking gently." He cut off the engine and allowed the craft to volplane to earth more abruptly. It came to rest on the ground as lightly as a bird. "Well, what will we do now?" demanded Ivan. "You have as much idea as I have," returned Chester. "I can't fix this thing here in the darkness; in fact, I don't know whether I can fix it at all. We'll either have to walk or stay here until I can have a look at this craft in daylight--and maybe that won't do any good." "I vote we walk," said Colonel Anderson. "There must be houses along here some place. Maybe we can commandeer three horses, or an automobile or something." "Most likely what we'll commandeer will be trouble," grumbled Ivan. "Now what are you kicking about?" demanded Chester. "You have been hunting trouble ever since I have known you. Maybe you'll be satisfied this time." "Do you think so?" demanded Ivan eagerly. "No, I don't," returned Chester. "If I did I'd sit right here. I don't want to run into any trouble now if I can help it. We've got business on hand, remember that. And we've got to hurry. Colonel Anderson, I guess your suggestion is a good one. We'll walk on a ways." They set out without a word. Striking across what appeared in the darkness a large field, they eventually came to a road. They walked south along this. Half an hour later, in the darkness, there loomed up a house ahead of them. A faint light glowed in the window. "Told you there must be a house along here some place," said Colonel Anderson. Chester produced his watch and succeeded in reading the face after some trouble. "Lacks five minutes to midnight," he said. "Rather a late hour to be making a call." "Necessity knows no law," responded Colonel Anderson. "We won't bother them much, if they can furnish us with some means of transportation." "Hope they will be friendly," said Chester. "No reason why they shouldn't be. I suppose we are still in Serbia." "Well, I don't know whether we are or not. That's what worries me," said Chester. "Why, where do you think we are?" "I don't know. Might be Serbia, might be Greece, might be Bulgaria, or Turkey or any old place. If the elevating apparatus on our plane was out of whack, the steering apparatus may have been, too. Also I have mislaid my compass. I won't know north from south until morning." "Hm-m-m," muttered the colonel. "Well, shall we try this house?" "May as well, I guess," said Chester. He led the way to the front door and rapped sharply with his knuckles. There was a sound of some one stirring within, but no face appeared at the door in response to the lad's knock. He rapped sharply again. This time there was not a sound from within. Chester walked a little ways from the house and glanced at the window through which a light had been visible a few moments before. It was perfectly dark now. Apparently the light had been extinguished the moment he had rapped on the door. All was dark within. Chester moved toward the house again, thinking to rap on the door once more. As he did so, there came the sound of a shot and Chester felt something whistle by his ear. "Wow!" he cried, and dashed toward the door where Colonel Anderson and Ivan stood. "Hit?" cried Colonel Anderson, as the lad dashed up. "No," replied Chester. "But that bullet didn't miss me much. What'll we do now?" "I don't really know. We don't know where we are. Why not spend the night here?" "For one reason," said Chester grimly, "because they won't let us in." "Oh, we can fix that. Break in the door." "And get shot for our pains." "No, I don't think so. My impression is that there is no more than a single occupant of the house. That's the reason he was frightened when we knocked. We'll just go in where it's warm and pay no further attention to him." "Well, whatever you say," said Chester. "Stand back there, till I blow the lock off that door." He drew his revolver. "Hold on," said Ivan. "I'll open it" He stepped back a pace, then rushed forward. His huge shoulder came into contact with the hard wood and there was a crash as the door gave way beneath his weight. Ivan went in unhesitatingly and the others followed him. Inside Chester struck a match. "Look out!" cried Colonel Anderson. "Want to get us all shot?" "We've got to see where we are going," said Chester. The glare of a match showed them a room to the right of the hall. Chester led the way in, still holding the match above his head. On the stand in the center of the room was a big lamp. Chester lighted it. "Evidently," he said, "this is the same light we saw when we came up." The three now pulled themselves close to a fire that glowed softly in an open fireplace and made themselves comfortable. "We might as well get a little sleep," said Chester. "Anderson, you take first watch. Call me in two hours. I'm going to sleep here." He closed his eyes, then opened them suddenly again. He had heard a slight noise. Stepping quickly across to a table at the far end of the room, he stooped down and, thrusting his revolver under the table, called: "Come out!" There was a faint rustling and a sound as of some one crying. Then a figure, rumpled and fearful, came from beneath the table; and Chester cried: "A girl!" CHAPTER XXII. ATTACKED. Chester's exclamation was wrung from him in English. At the sound of his words the girl looked at him quickly and clasping her hands imploringly, cried out: "Don't kill me!" Her words were also in English and she spoke without the slightest accent. Chester and Colonel Anderson looked at her dumfounded. "Are you English?" demanded Chester, taking a step toward her. The girl staggered back. "Keep away, please," she said. "Are you English?" repeated Chester. The girl recovered herself with an effort and forced herself to answer the lad's question calmly. "No," she said, "I am an American." "An American!" exclaimed Chester. "You are an American?" "Yes," cried the girl, "and you will harm me at your peril. The United States--" "Uncle Sam is a long ways off," said Chester quietly. "But I guess he can take care of you. I, too am an American." "You!" exclaimed the girl eagerly, taking a step forward. Then, after a quick glance at his clothes, she shrank back. Chester smiled. "Don't judge me by these garments," he said. "I assure you I am an American, and my friend here," he indicated Colonel Anderson, "is a British officer. My other friend," pointing to Ivan, "is a Russian. So you see, you are among friends." "Are you telling me the truth?" asked the girl fearfully, eying Chester searchingly. "It is a habit I have," replied Chester quietly. "Yes, I am an American and if you have a mind to question me about anything American you will find that I am telling you the truth." "What is your name?" asked the girl. "Chester Crawford." "Chester Crawford!" Again the girl looked at him searchingly. At last she asked: "And do you know another young American named Hal Paine?" "Hal!" exclaimed Chester, startled at hearing his friend's name from this girl whom he had, to his knowledge, never seen before. "Of course. He is my chum. But he has never told me he knew a girl answering your description." "Oh, I don't know him," replied the girl. "But I have heard of you both from a friend--a girl friend; and if you can tell me her name, I will be sure that you are Chester Crawford." "How can I tell you?" asked Chester. "I know several girls. Was it Mary--" "This girl," was the reply, "you met in Belgium. If you are truly Chester Crawford you will know who I mean." "Do you mean Miss Johnson--Edna Johnson?" inquired Chester. A happy smile lighted up the girl's face. "I do! I do!" she exclaimed. "It was Edna Johnson. She wrote me a letter, telling me how she met two young American boys in Belgium and giving me their names. I have heard from her often and each time she has mentioned your names. She wonders what has become of you." "Well," said Chester with a smile. "I'm here and Hal is some place between here and Belgrade, I expect. Now will you tell me who you are?" "I am Helen Ellison of St. Louis," replied the girl, extending her hand. Chester took the hand and turned to the others. "Allow me to present my friends to you," he said quietly. "Colonel Anderson, of His British Majesty's service." Colonel Anderson bowed. "And Ivan Vergoff,"--this in French. "Ivan, Mademoiselle Ellison." The big Cossack also bowed and acknowledged the introduction. The girl smiled at both of them, and Chester was glad to learn that she understood French. "And now," he said, "if you will tell me exactly where we are, I shall be greatly obliged." The girl looked at him in surprise. "You don't know where you are?" she asked. Chester shook his head. "You are now," said Helen, "just across the Serbian border from Bulgaria. This house is the home of a friend of mine, Miss Thatcher, a Red Cross nurse. I met her in Belgrade where she was wounded. When it became evident that the Austrians were about to occupy the city, we came to the home of her friend here, a Serbian woman. That was before there was any talk of Bulgaria joining Germany. But now that war has been declared--" "War declared!" exclaimed Chester. "Why, I think so. Maybe there has been no declaration of war, but anyhow the Serbians and Bulgarians have been fighting across the frontier. That's why I was so afraid when you knocked at the door to-night." "And it was you who shot at me?" asked Chester. "Yes," replied the girl. "And, oh, I am so sorry. If--" "Never mind," said Chester soothingly. "You didn't hit me." "I know I didn't, but I--" "There, there, now," said Chester. "And where is your friend now?" "She went away this morning and she hasn't come back yet." "Do you know where she went?" "Yes; to the home of a peasant about six miles from here. His wife is sick and Miss Thatcher has been attending them since she has been well enough to do so." "And you were left here all along?" said Chester. "Yes, but I wasn't afraid until this afternoon, when half a dozen Bulgarians crossed the frontier and tried to get in the house." "The did?" exclaimed Chester angrily. "I wish we had been here." "So do I," said Helen. "They knocked on the door, but I wouldn't let them in. Then they threatened to break the door down, but an officer came up at that moment and ordered them away. They went sulkily and one of them called back that they would return. That's why I was afraid when you knocked a little while ago." "And no wonder," replied Chester. "It must have been a terrible day for you." "It has indeed," said the girl weakly. Chester sprang toward her quickly and took her gently by the arms, just as it seemed she would fall over in a faint. He seated her in a chair, and poured her a glass of water from a pitcher on a nearby table. After drinking the water the girl appeared refreshed. "So foolish of me to get weak like that," she said, smiling. "It's no wonder," returned Chester. "It's just the reaction. You'll be all right in a minute or two." The lad was a good prophet; and five minutes later Helen was talking and laughing vivaciously. All four were having a good time, when Chester's ears caught a faint sound from without. The lad paused as he was about to say something in reply to one of Helen's questions and listened intently. "What's the matter?" asked Helen. "Oh, nothing," said Chester, and continued his remarks. A few moments later, however, he arose, and asking to be excused for a moment, stepped toward the door which Ivan had broken to permit their entrance; just beyond he caught sight of a dark shadow. "As I thought," he muttered. "They have come back." He returned to the door of the parlor and summoned the big Cossack. "Oh, Ivan," he called. "Come out here a minute." The Cossack came up to him and Chester led him toward the door. "What can you see out there?" he asked. Ivan poked his head out and looked around. "Ho!" he exclaimed suddenly and leaped out. A moment later Chester heard the sound of a brief struggle and then Ivan reappeared dragging a man after him. "I've got him," said the giant, laughing loudly. The laughter attracted the attention of Helen and Colonel Anderson, who came from the parlor to learn the cause of it. Helen gave a cry of fear as her eyes fell upon Ivan's prisoner. "Who is he?" she exclaimed. "Oh, just some fellow who was spooking around outside," replied Chester. But Helen was not to be fooled thus easily. "It is one of the Bulgarians who were here this afternoon," she cried, and addressed the man in his own tongue. Then she turned to the others. "He says the others are coming," she cried. "He came on ahead of them." "Oh, is that so?" said Chester quietly. "Well, they'll have a different reception this time." He told the others what the girl had learned. Colonel Anderson received the news quietly. "We'll be ready for them," he said. But Ivan was not so calm when he heard what Helen had told Chester. "So there is going to be a fight at last, eh?" he cried in a loud voice. "What are a dozen or so of these Bulgarians? I know them of old. Cowards and traitors all. I have had an experience with more than one of them. We are good for a dozen or two of them, if we can keep them in front of us. Oh, yes, the Bulgarians are great fighters--from behind." "Is there any way we can fix up that door?" asked Chester. Colonel Anderson shook his head. "I am afraid not. Ivan has shattered it beyond repair." "Then it shall be my post to guard," cried Ivan. "No Bulgarian shall come through there." "There are not many other places they can come through," said Helen. "Only two windows and a second door, in the rear of the house. I shall guard one of the windows myself." "You are not afraid?" asked Chester. "Not now, that I have friends with me." "All right. Colonel Anderson, I'll take this other window here, near Miss Ellison. You shall guard the back door." "The first thing to do is tie this fellow up," said Anderson, indicating the Bulgarian. Ivan stepped forward, and taking a piece of rope that Helen gave him, tied the man up tightly. "Now," said Chester, "to your posts. We don't want to be caught unguarded." All took the places assigned them and examined their weapons. An hour passed. Then Chester, peering through the window, exclaimed: "Here they come!" CHAPTER XXIII. THE FIGHT IN THE HOUSE. "I'm ready for them!" shouted Ivan, from his position behind the broken door. He stood well back in the darkness, out of sight from beyond the house. All was quiet and dark within, for with the appearance of the first of the enemy Chester had extinguished the light. The figures of the approaching Bulgarians were plainly visible to Chester and Helen through the windows. Ivan and Colonel Anderson, of course, could not see them, although they would have been visible to the former had he a mind to take a chance and expose himself to their view. As the men approached, Chester counted them. Then he announced: "Thirteen, I make them." "My count, too," agreed Helen from her window. There was not a tremor in her voice now and she seemed totally unlike the frightened girl Chester had first seen. She held her revolver steadily in her right hand, a pile of ammunition heaped up in the window sill before her. The men came on briskly, absolutely unaware of the rude welcome that awaited them. "Let them get close enough so we can't miss, then I'll hold a parley with them," said Chester. When the men were less than fifty yards from the house, Chester raised his voice and called out sternly in Russian: "Halt there!" The Bulgarians halted in their tracks and gazed about in surprise. To the best of their knowledge there could be no one in the house but the girl, and this sudden hail in a male voice made them pause. "What do you want here?" demanded Chester from his shelter. There was a hurried consultation among the enemy; then one man called: "We want to get in." "You can't get in," returned Chester calmly. There was a roar of laughter from without. "Did you hear that?" said one. "He says we can't get in." The man called to Chester: "And who is going to stop us?" "You'll find there are enough of us here for that purpose," replied the lad evenly. "I warn you we'll shoot the next step forward you take." Again those without held a consultation and Chester could barely make out the trend of the conversation. "Perhaps they are too many for us," said one. "Nonsense," was the reply of another. "He's simply trying to frighten us away. We'll rush the two windows and the doors at the same time. Some of us will get in." "All right. Whatever you say--" "Come on then." The men split up suddenly into four separate bodies and rushed forward. "Let 'em have it," said Chester quietly. His revolver spoke at the same moment as did that of Helen and two men stumbled as they ran. One recovered himself instantly and came on, but the other pitched forward to the ground. Colonel Anderson, at the rear door, remained at his post. There was nothing he could do until the enemy attempted to force the door. Ivan, however, stepped quickly from his place of concealment and standing erect in the doorway fired point blank at the four men who came dashing toward him. One threw up his hands with a cry and a second muttered a fierce imprecation. Ivan emptied his revolver and then dashed back to safety even as a fusillade was fired at him. The Cossack was untouched. He smiled grimly to himself. "Not so bad," he muttered. He reloaded in haste and again stepped into the open. The men before his post, the three who remained upon their feet, were directly in front of the door and all fired simultaneously as Ivan showed himself. The big Cossack felt a stinging sensation in his left arm, but he did not pause to investigate the wound. Again he raised his weapon quickly and fired its contents toward his foes. But Ivan's aim was poor--or he had fired without aiming--for not a bullet went home. Again Ivan dodged back just in time. The men who had advanced toward the two windows had been driven off by Helen and Chester. Two of their number lay on the ground and two of the others were nursing wounded arms. Out of revolver-shot they stopped and discussed the situation. In the rear, the men who had attacked there were even now knocking at the door with their revolver butts. Chester heard Colonel Anderson's voice: "Get away from there, or I shall fire through the door." There came a loud report and Chester believed for a moment the colonel had been as good as his word. But he was soon undeceived. "They've blown the lock off the door," cried the colonel. "Guess they'll try to rush me now." "You guard both these windows for a moment," said Chester. "I'll lend Anderson a hand." He hurried back and arrived just in time to see the door swing inward. Colonel Anderson, across the room from the door, stood in the shadow, waiting for the first of the enemy to show himself. The door swung back violently and the men appeared in the opening in a body. Chester and Colonel Anderson fired almost together. Came hoarse cries from the attackers and a moment later the doorway was cleared. Immediately Chester and the colonel hurled their weight against it, closing it again. "Safe for a minute," said Chester. He hastened back to where he had left Helen and arrived just in time to see the girl fire her revolver at a figure that dashed toward the house. The man did not falter. Apparently the girl's aim had been bad. The man dashed to the very side of the house and took his stand directly under the window. Chester poked his head out to see if he could pick the man off and as he did so his cap leaped from his head. The lad heard something whiz by. He withdrew his head quickly. "Just missed me," he said quietly. Now three forms came dashing toward the house, running in a zig-zag course. "See if you can get one of them," cried Chester to the girl. He took deliberate aim himself and fired. One man dropped. Helen also fired--twice, but the other two men came on and joined the first arrival under the edge of the window. "Great Scott! This won't do," said Chester. "We can't have those fellows under there. We'll have to get them out some way." At that moment Colonel Anderson's voice rang out: "Here they come again." Chester dashed back. Again the door swung inward and two faces appeared, revolvers leveled before them. They fired even as they came in sight and Colonel Anderson tumbled over with a sharp cry. "They got me," he said in a faint voice. "And I got one of them!" shouted Chester as one of the Bulgarians hit the floor with a thud. The other withdrew his head before Chester could fire again. Chester raised his voice and called to Helen: "How are you making it?" "All right," the girl called back. "Haven't seen any one since you left." "Can you hold both windows?" demanded Chester. "I think so. Why?" "Anderson has been hit. I'll have to stand guard here. Pass the word to Ivan, will you? Tell him of the men under the window. He may be able to help you out." The girl did as Chester ordered. Helen, standing close to the window, allowed her revolver to rest on the sill. In the darkness, a hand appeared from below and grasped the weapon by the barrel and wrenched it from her grasp before she could pull the trigger. Helen screamed. "What's the matter?" cried Chester anxiously. "I've lost my gun," said the girl. "And here they come in the window!" "I'm coming!" cried Chester, and started forward. But another figure beat him. It was the giant form of Ivan. "You stand here," he said sternly. "Guard both doors and the windows as you value your lives. I'll attend to the others." He moved toward the shattered door without another word. "Where are you going?" demanded Chester anxiously. Ivan disappeared without making reply. At that moment one of the men who had succeeded in forcing the rear door came dashing through the house. He held his revolver ready, but he didn't see Chester quickly enough. Chester raised his own weapon and took a snapshot. The man threw up both arms and staggered back. Immediately Chester leaped forward and possessed himself of the other's revolver, which he passed to Helen. A second form appeared in the doorway and fired at Chester. But the lad had perceived his opponent just in time to leap back and the bullet went wild. Bringing his own revolver forward in deliberate aim, Chester dropped the other with a single shot. "Look!" cried Helen from the window at this moment. Chester did so and saw the remainder of the Bulgarians coming toward the house at a dead run. He put his revolver out the window and fired twice. Helen did the same. But both had fired too quickly and all the bullets went wide. The men pulled up under the window, out of the range of fire from within, safely enough, and Chester and Helen could hear them talking. "We'll wait here," said one. "Somebody'll show his head pretty quick and when he does, we'll get him." Chester motioned to Helen to move back from the window. "What are you going to do?" she asked in some anxiety. "Have you any hot water?" asked Chester suddenly. "Why, yes," cried the girl and clapped her hands, "There is a kettle on the stove." "You remain here while I get it," said Chester briefly. He dashed into the kitchen and was back in a moment with the large kettle of hot water in both hands. He motioned the girl away from the window. The lad lifted the kettle to the sill with an effort, and then gauging the position of the enemy by the sound of the voices without, he tilted it over. Came furious cries of pain from without as the boiling water found its mark. Then there came a different sort of cry. Chester looked out quickly. From the front door dashed Ivan and bore down upon the foe. CHAPTER XXIV. IVAN SHOWS HIS METAL. Chester had poured the boiling water upon the foe at the psychological moment indeed--for Ivan had been ready to dash forward at that exact minute and Chester had diverted the attention of the Bulgarians long enough for Ivan to reach them without being discovered. Had the men not been otherwise engaged when he dashed from his place of concealment, they would doubtless have shot him down before he reached them. But the kettle of hot water had prevented them from bringing their revolvers to bear until too late. Ivan descended upon them with a wild cry, and at sight of him the Bulgarians gave back. Eight of them there were, but they recoiled as a single man from the great Cossack. A single shot Ivan fired from his two revolvers and then they were empty. Quickly he reversed both weapons, and holding both by the barrels, he was among the enemy, striking right and left as fast as the eye could see. Down went a man on the left with a cracked skull. A man on the right caught a glancing blow on the shoulder and also toppled over. Now the remaining six scattered and sought to get a position where they could shoot Ivan down without fear of injuring one of their own number. But Ivan prevented this by keeping close. He at length seized one man by the neck--dropping the revolver he held in his left hand to do so--and held him before him as a shield. Then he charged the others. Ivan's eyes shone with a terrible fire as he darted forward. His hat was off and his long hair streamed in the wind. Holding his human shield as he did with his strong left hand, he raised his revolver aloft in his right, gripping it tightly by the barrel. The nearest man of the enemy failed to skip aside quickly enough and the revolver crashed down on his head with a thud. That was the last of him. A second, thinking to take advantage of this action, slipped upon the giant from behind and leveled his revolver at Ivan's head. But once more Ivan was too quick for him, and, whirling suddenly, hurled his revolver at the man. The Cossack's aim was true, and struck squarely in the face with the sharp revolver, the man dropped to the ground. Now, besides the man he still held aloft, there were but three of the enemy left. With a loud cry, they turned and ran. But Ivan had no mind to be balked of his prey. He still held a weapon, and he made good use of it. The weapon was the man he had been using for a shield. Raising him high above his head with his right arm, he hurled him forward, as a man putting the shot. The human catapult sailed through the air and struck two of the enemy as it fell, carrying them to the ground, knocking the breath from the bodies of all three. Ivan leaped forward quickly. Stooping, he picked up two men, one in each hand, and brought their heads together with an audible crash. Then he hurled one down upon the third man with great force, and stooping, picked up a revolver. Quickly he dropped to one knee, and leveling the revolver, took careful aim at the remaining man, who was now some distance away and running swiftly. "Crack!" A report, a flash of flame in the darkness. An imprecation from Ivan, a second report and flash of flame, and the man fell sprawling. Ivan rose calmly. He surveyed the field of action with a critical eye. Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and stalked back to the house. As he came to where Chester and Helen stood, he said quietly: "Any more of them in here?" "None," returned Chester. "You finished the lot." "Good," said the Cossack. "I thought they had me once." He uttered no further word, but made his way to the parlor, where he sat down as calmly as though nothing had happened. "You go in there, too," said Chester to Helen. "I'll have a look at Anderson." But the girl refused to obey this command and accompanied the lad to where the gallant Colonel lay, moaning feebly. Chester dropped down and raised Colonel Anderson's head to his knee. "How do you feel, old man?" he asked. "Rather weak and dizzy," was the Colonel's mumbled response. "Where did the bullet hit you?" "Top of the head some place," and Colonel Anderson raised a feeble hand and passed it over his head. "Quiet now," said Chester. "I'll have you in the other room in a jiffy and we'll have a look at the wound. Will you make a light in the parlor, Miss Ellison?" The girl hastened away to do as Chester requested and the lad assisted Colonel Anderson to his feet. "Put your arm around my neck," the lad commanded. "Lean all your weight on me and I'll drag you into the other room. You're too big for me to carry." Colonel Anderson followed instructions and Chester dragged him to the parlor, where he laid him on a couch. Then he bent over and examined the wound. "Doesn't amount to much," he said finally, rising. "Will you get me some water and a cloth. Miss Ellison? Also, if by any chance you can find it, a piece of adhesive plaster." "I can get them all," said the girl. "Miss Thatcher's kit is still here." She hurried away and was back in a few minutes with the necessary things. She lent Chester a hand and bathed the wound on the Colonel's head, while Chester unrolled the adhesive plaster. Then they bound up the wound. Colonel Anderson then insisted on sitting up. He passed a hand ruefully across his bandaged head and smiled faintly. "Hurts a little, but not much," he said in answer to Chester's question. "But now, if you'll tell me--" He paused suddenly and raised a warning hand. "What's the matter now?" demanded Chester anxiously. "Thought I heard voices without." With a bound Ivan left his chair and darted toward the door. He disappeared in the darkness. "Ivan's fighting blood is up," said Chester. "I guess I'd better go after him. You guard the wounded man here, Miss Ellison." He hurried after Ivan. Outside the door he came upon a strange sight--a sight that caused him to cry out in merriment and thankfulness. In his first gaze he saw four figures and the first he recognized as that of Hal, the next that of Nikol. These two stood quietly gazing at two other figures who were struggling nearby. Chester glanced at the other figures. They were Ivan and Anthony Stubbs and they appeared to be locked in a death grapple. "Help! Help!" came Stubbs' voice. Chester moved forward to interfere, for he reasoned that perhaps Ivan, in his lust for battle, had been unable to distinguish between friend and foe. But Hal stayed him with uplifted hand and Chester saw that his chum was laughing quietly. He realized then that Ivan had recognized his opponent. He lined up with Hal and Nikol and watched the struggle. Ivan had one huge arm around the little man and seemed to be making strenuous efforts to throw him. Stubbs struggled valiantly, the while sending out wails for help. Chester saw that Ivan was simply playing. "Stick to him, Mr. Stubbs," cried Chester. "You'll have him down in a minute." Stubbs twisted and squirmed like an eel. Once he slipped free of Ivan's clutch and started to run. Ivan reached out quickly and grasped him by the left shoulder and drew him back. Stubbs let out a yell of fear, and as he turned face to face with the Cossack, he struck out and upward with his clenched fist. The blow landed squarely on Ivan's nose and brought a stream of blood. Ivan let out a roar of rage. Apparently he had not bargained for this. Then he lifted Stubbs high, in the air and tossed him away in the darkness. The little man's yells were loud and long as he flew through the air. He struck the hard earth with a grunt perhaps twenty feet away. Slowly he got to his feet and came toward the others, who were now talking to Ivan. In front of them, he stopped. "Say!" he exclaimed. "What are you fellows trying to do, anyhow? Get me killed off so you won't have to bother with me? Didn't you see that big heathen tossing me around? What?" Hal turned and eyed the little man suddenly. "Why, there he is now," he said in a voice of surprise. "We were just talking about you, Mr. Stubbs. Chester was asking about you. I told him you were here a moment ago. Where did you go so suddenly?" Stubbs glared at them. "You mean to tell me you didn't see some big giant grab me a minute ago?" he demanded. "You didn't see me fighting for my life?" "Fighting?" exclaimed Hal. "You fighting, Mr. Stubbs. I didn't think you would attack a man." "I didn't attack a man," shouted the thoroughly aroused Stubbs. "I didn't attack a man. A man attacked me. No, it wasn't a man, either. It was a giant." "Is that so, Mr. Stubbs?" asked Chester in well-feigned surprise. "And where were the rest of us all that time?" "Where--where were you?" echoed Stubbs. "You were right here, that's where you were. You mean to tell me you didn't hear me call for help?" "You don't say," said Hal. "Why didn't you call aloud, Mr. Stubbs?" Stubbs sputtered angrily. "By George! I did call out loud," he cried. "And what has happened to the man who attacked you, Mr. Stubbs--the giant you speak of?" inquired Hal civilly. "Well, he, I--I don't know. He looked suspiciously like Ivan there to me, though why he should jump me, I don't know. Yes, sir, I could have sworn it was Ivan, but I must have been mistaken." Stubbs glanced around on all sides. "By George!" he exclaimed at last. "I know I had a fight, but I can't seem to make any one believe it." "Still sleepy, Mr. Stubbs?" asked Hal. "Sleepy?" repeated the little man. "Sleepy? What do you mean?" "Why, that fighting dream just now," said Hal. For a moment Stubbs stared at the lad angrily; then turned on his heel and stalked into the house. "Come," said Chester, with a laugh, "I'll take you into the house, Hal, and introduce you to a real nice little girl. She's heard of you. She told me so. Come on." CHAPTER XXV. BETWEEN TWO FIRES. At the door to the parlor, Chester stopped stock still. The others halted behind him. "Now what do you think of that?" he demanded. Inside, Stubbs was standing before Helen Ellison. "Yes," he was saying, "I am Anthony Stubbs, war correspondent of the _New York Gazette_. I am here on important business. But I have other worries besides my work. I am burdened with the care of two young American boys. I have to look after them and keep them out of trouble. Hal Paine and Chester Crawford. Perhaps you know them?" The little man paused expectantly. "I have met Chester Crawford," was the reply. "He was here only a moment ago. I do not know Hal Paine." "Well, if you know one of them you are just one better off than I am," was Stubbs' rejoinder. "I know them both, too well. Were it not that I am continually giving up my time to getting them out of scrapes, I would be able to give more attention to my own work. You should be glad that you know but one of them." "But I thought--" began the girl. Stubbs interrupted her with a wave of his hand. "Oh, I know what you thought," he said. "I thought so myself once. So have lots of others. But if you knew them as well as I do you'd change your mind." "Well, what do you think of it?" asked Chester of Hal, in a whisper. "I think it's about time we went in," returned Hal. Chester advanced into the room and the others followed. Stubbs turned guiltily. "Oh, there you are," he said. "I was just telling this young lady here what great friends we all are. Yes, sir. I just remarked that if she were in any kind of danger, to mention it to you and you boys would see that no harm came to her." "Are you sure that's what you were talking about, Mr. Stubbs?" asked Chester. "Why, of course. What did you think?" "Well, I thought perhaps you might have told Miss Ellison of all the trouble we have caused you." Stubbs started. "I--I--" he stammered. "Oh, we heard you, Mr. Stubbs," said Hal. "Well," said Stubbs with ruffled dignity. "Eavesdroppers never hear any good of themselves." But the little man soon recovered his poise. "I was just joking," he said. "I knew you boys were listening. Ha! Ha!" He eyed Chester. "The young lady here says she has met you," he said. "You young rascal, so this is why you wanted to come on ahead, is it?" Chester blushed. "See here, Mr. Stubbs," he began, "I--" "Ha! Ha!" laughed Stubbs. He approached Chester and gave him a dig in the ribs with his thumb. "So," he exclaimed, and added, "well, I was young myself once." He had successfully turned the tables on Chester and he was now very much pleased with himself. Chester decided that the best policy was to ignore the little man's remarks, so he turned the conversation by introducing Hal and Nikol to Helen. Then, when all were on speaking terms, he turned to Hal. "Tell me how you happened to find us?" he asked. "It's simple enough," was the reply. "As we were sailing along, I heard shots below. I came down to investigate. The first thing I knew, after coming in sight of this house, I saw a great hulk of a man come rushing out. I drew my revolver and was about to fire when I recognized Ivan. At first I wasn't sure whether Ivan knew us, but when he grabbed Stubbs there and began to play with him, I knew he did. So Nikol and I stood back and watched. Then you came out. That's all I have to tell." "And so you admit it wasn't a dream," exclaimed Stubbs angrily. "A fine lot of friends you are. How do you know what that untamed heathen might have done to me?" "Heathen, am I?" exclaimed Ivan, getting to his feet. "No, no! I didn't mean that," said Stubbs, backing away. "I apologize." Ivan resumed his seat and Stubbs continued: "I just want to tell you I don't think much of such treatment. As I have told you before, you rush to each other's aid fast enough, but when I get in a tight place I am left to fight it out by myself." "And you always come out on top, Mr. Stubbs," declared Chester. "We would deprive you of none of the glory." "Yes, but some of these times I won't come out on top and then what good will glory do me, huh?" "Think how proud Mrs. Stubbs--" "I can tell you right now that Mrs. Stubbs is not looking for glory," shouted Stubbs. "What Mrs. Stubbs wants is me and if I fool around with you much longer I'm mighty likely to disappoint her." Stubbs stalked across the room and sat down in a corner. "Tell me," said Hal to Chester, "what was all the shooting about?" "Oh, it didn't amount to much," returned Chester. "Thirteen Bulgarians attacked us. That's all. Anderson, Miss Ellison and I disposed of a couple and Ivan here attended to the rest. They are all dead now, I guess." "And where is Anderson?" demanded Hal. "Over there on the sofa," said Chester, pointing. "He's sleeping and I didn't like to disturb him. He's got a hole in his head." "Bad?" asked Hal anxiously. "No; mere flesh wound. He'll be all right directly." "And do you mean to tell me," demanded Hal, "that Ivan here did all this work?" "Well, he did the greater part of it. It reminded me of the old days, when we watched Alexis in action. Any one who had ever seen them both fight would know they were brothers. Ivan is a powerful man and a great fighter." Ivan had hung his head modestly as Chester talked. Now he looked up and said: "It was nothing." "And yet how unlike Alexis," muttered Hal. "Can you imagine what Alexis would have said after a fight like that?" "Rather," said Chester dryly. "He'd have sworn he had defeated a regiment." "Well," said Hal. "It seems to me we have delayed here long enough. You will remember your orders to hurry. My plane will carry us all, if Miss Ellison cares to go." "Certainly she cares to go," returned Chester. "We can't leave her here alone. I'll wake Anderson now." He did so. The Colonel announced that he was feeling perfectly fit and ready to go at any time. "Well, you people get ready and I'll go and have a look at the plane," said Hal. He left the house. It had grown light by this time. Dawn had broken half an hour before and there was every indication that the day would be bright and cheerful. Helen was upstairs getting her things together, while the others sat about in the parlor. Suddenly Hal dashed into the house. There was an expression of alarm on his face. The others jumped to their feet excitedly. "Now what's the matter?" exclaimed Chester. "Oh, nothing much," said Hal, "only that about fifty thousand Bulgarians have nabbed my aeroplane." "What?" exclaimed the others. "Exactly," said Hal, "and that's not the worst of it." "My goodness!" exclaimed Stubbs. "What can be worse than that?" "Well," replied Hal, sinking into a chair. "On the other side of us I made out about a million Serbians advancing." "Great Scott!" exclaimed Chester. "You mean we are in between them?" "Precisely." "Oh, my," groaned Stubbs. "This will be the last of us for sure." "Quiet, Stubbs," said Hal sharply. Now Ivan had a remark to make. "There don't happen to be a million Serbians," he said calmly. "Well, I wasn't talking literally," said Hal. "I don't know how many there are, but they look like a million." "And what are we going to do?" moaned Stubbs. "It looks to me as though we should have to stop right here," said Hal quietly. "And be shot to pieces?" This from Stubbs. "You might go outside and try running a bit," returned Chester. "I have no doubt you would be killed a bit quicker." "I'll stay here," said Stubbs. At this moment Helen came into the room. She was heavily attired and carried a small satchel. "Well, I'm ready," she said, smiling. "Did you think it would take me all day to dress?" "You might just as well go back and get unready," said Stubbs in a faint voice. Helen gazed at the serious faces about her queerly. "Why, what on earth is the matter?" she asked anxiously. "Matter?" echoed Stubbs. "Everything is the matter. The Serbians and Bulgarians are coming to shoot us full of holes." Helen turned to Hal for an explanation. "It's true, Miss Ellison, though not as Mr. Stubbs expresses it," said Hal quietly. "We are between two fires. The Bulgarians are less than half a mile from us and they have seized my airplane. The Serbians are advancing. There will undoubtedly be a battle and we will be somewhere about the middle of it." "But can't we leave now and hurry toward the Serbians?" asked Helen. "I had thought of that," said Hal; "but the Bulgarians are too close. If they saw us fleeing, they would probably shoot us down." "Then cannot we seek the protection of the Bulgarians?" This brought a growl from Ivan. "Better keep as far from the Bulgarians as possible," he said in a harsh voice. "I know something of the Bulgarians." Hal nodded. "Besides, we have other business," he added. "We do not want to fall into the hands of the Bulgarians if we can possibly help it. We have a mission to perform if it is humanly possible." "Boom!" it was the sound of a big gun. "The battle is on," said Hal. "Will any of you come to the roof with me? We should be able to get a good view." "Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!" The battle was on in full blast. CHAPTER XXVI. IN GRAVE PERIL. Helen led the way to the roof, the others following closely. As Hal had predicted, it was possible from this height to obtain a fair view of the opposing armies. To the north, as far as the eye could see, the army of King Ferdinand of Bulgaria spread out, a mass of moving energy. Faint puffs of smoke dotted the Bulgar line as far as the eye could see. "Cannon!" said Hal briefly. To the south, the Serbian line moved forward. It, too, spread out on either side as far as the eye could reach and puffs of smoke rose steadily, shutting out the view of the moving men. "More cannon," said Chester. "We seem to be safe enough for the moment," said Hal. "The shells are passing over us. But if one side or the other should advance as far as this house, we would be in imminent danger of being struck by shells from the other side." "Well, one side is bound to advance sooner or later," declared Chester; "but I guess there is nothing for us to do but wait and watch the progress of the battle." "You fellows can watch all you want to," said Stubbs. "I'm going down stairs where I won't be able to see a shell coming." "It won't make much difference whether you are up here or down there if a shell hits this house, Mr. Stubbs," said Chester. "Maybe not; but I won't see it and that will help some." Stubbs betook himself below. "Don't know what is coming over Stubbs," said Chester. "He didn't use to be as bad as that." "He was when we first met him," Hal replied. "But he seemed to be getting over it. He's worse than ever now." From their position, those upon the roof of the house could witness the effect of some of the great shells that were hurled into the opposing lines. One, from the Serbians, struck squarely upon the Bulgarian first line troops, doing terrible execution. Men were mowed down in great numbers. A few moments later the Bulgarians also found the range and the havoc was frightful on each side. "They can't stand that very long," said Hal. "One side or the other will have to make a move." The lad was right; and as it transpired the first move was to be made by the Serbians. So suddenly that it appeared the work of magic, a great body of horsemen, stretching out for perhaps half a mile, issued from the Serbian line in a charge. On they came, their sabers flashing in the early morning sun, straight for the distant Bulgarian line. Chester gave an exclamation of dismay. "They'll pass within a short distance of us," he ejaculated. "Then the Bulgarians will turn their big guns on us." He turned to Helen. "You would better go downstairs, Miss Ellison," he said quietly. "But I want to see the battle," the girl protested. "Chester is right," Hal agreed. "This is no place for you. Bullets are likely to be flying about here before long now." "But the rest of you are not coming down?" "That's different," said Chester. "I don't see how. A bullet is no more liable to hit me than it is to hit you." "Well, of course if you insist, I won't push you down," said Hal, somewhat nettled. Helen Ellison tossed her head. "Of course if you are going to be mean about it, I'll go down and sit with Mr. Stubbs," she said. Without another word she disappeared below. Hal looked at Chester and smiled. "Women and girls," he said, "are very peculiar. As soon as you agree with them they change their minds." "Well, she's down, anyhow," said Chester. "That's some relief." "And here come the Serbians," said Hal. A handsome body of men, these Serbian cavalrymen, as they charged straight across the open field into the very jaws of death. Men fell on all sides, but those who were left did not pause. The command had gone forth that the Bulgarian guns must be silenced and the Serbians went about the work as coolly as though they had been on dress parade. But it appeared a few moments later that the battle was not to be between horsemen and artillery, but rather between cavalry and cavalry. From the Bulgarian lines now issued a large body of horsemen; and they came toward the Serbians at a swift gallop, their officers riding in front with swords flashing and urging their men on with words of encouragement. The Serbian cavalry, at a command, halted and braced to receive the shock. "Great Scott! What did they stop for!" exclaimed Hal. "They are giving the other fellows, all the advantage when they come together." "Looks like bad generalship to me," Chester agreed. Now, at a command from their officer, the Serbians resumed their charge; but the damage had been done and when the long lines of opposing horsemen came together the very impetus of the Bulgarian charge carried them through. The Serbians reeled, staggered and their line broke. The Bulgarian horse plowed in among them, cutting, slashing and stabbing. Individually, the Serbians fought as bravely as their foe, but in spite of the desperate work the Bulgarian cavalry retained its cohesion and pushed steadily on. The fighting was terrible to behold. Revolvers were brought into play and their sharp crack, crack could be heard above the sound of the trampling horses and yelling men. It became apparent to the onlookers that the Serbians were getting the worst of the encounter. Casting his eye toward the main Serbian line, Hal gave a short cheer. A long, dense line of infantry was moving out to the support of the cavalry. Slowly they came at first, then faster and still faster as the men broke into a run. An imposing sight, indeed, and one to stir the blood. The Serbian cavalry, at a command, fell back upon the infantry, which separated into two sections to permit of the cavalry passing through the center. Then the infantry closed in again. But the Bulgarian cavalry, with victory apparently within its grasp, had no intention of giving up now. With utter recklessness they charged the Serbian infantry, dying bravely before the rifles and upon the bayonets of their enemy when they chanced to escape the rifle fire. The Serbian line held like a stone wall. Then the Bulgarian cavalry drew off. A cheer, which arose from the Serbian line, was quickly checked as the giant batteries of the Bulgarians opened upon the unprotected Serbian line. The Serbians wavered, broke and fled. Then once more the Bulgarian cavalry wheeled and charged. Right into the dense masses of Serbians rode the troopers, cutting and slashing to right and left. The execution among the panic-stricken Serbians was terrible to behold. "They can't stand it long," Hal shouted, barely making himself heard above the roar of battle. "The day is lost already," Chester shouted back. There seemed no doubt of that now. What was left of the Serbian infantry staggered back to the main army shattered and beaten. The big guns took up the battle again, but not with the same vigor and confidence as before. The Serbian fire seemed even to tell the spectators on the housetop that the Serbians had lost hope. Half an hour later a general retreat began. "Bad generalship, that's all," declared Hal. "Without doubt," agreed Colonel Anderson. "A charge is a charge and once begun must be finished. That was where the Bulgarians gained the whip hand." "The next step, I suppose, is an advance by the Bulgarians," said Chester. "Very likely," Hal agreed, "and that means that we shall be caught in the Bulgarian lines." "It means worse than that," said Colonel Anderson. "We are all in civilian attire and if our identities are discovered, it means that we'll be stood up and shot." "By Jove!" said Hal. "I hadn't thought of that." "Oh, we've been in predicaments just as serious," said Chester, "and we have always come through somehow. I guess we shall do so again." "We'll get into one just once too often, I'm afraid," said Hal, "and this is likely to be it." "You're getting as bad as Stubbs, Hal," said Chester. "Just keep a stiff upper lip and we'll come through this thing some way." "I'm no quitter," said Hal. "But the best we can do now is let events shape themselves." And now the Bulgarian advance began. Apparently the Bulgarian commander had no thought of attempting to overtake the Serbians and annihilate them. Apparently he figured that ground gained was ground gained whether with or without a fight. The army moved forward slowly. A party of officers, following in the wake of the vanguard, rode suddenly toward the house in which the friends had taken refuge. "And here comes the trouble, as Stubbs would say," declared Hal. "Let's go below and get ready to receive them." He suited the action to the word and the others followed him silently. Below, Hal acquainted Helen with what had transpired and announced that the Bulgarians were approaching. "And what of the bodies without?" asked the girl quietly. "Whew!" Hal gave a long and expressive whistle. "I hadn't thought of that. Wait a moment, though. We'll have to say they were here when the Serbians advanced and were killed." "But the Serbians were not so close to the house." "I know that, but I cannot think of any better excuse." "Besides," said Stubbs, "if the Bulgarians were killed here by the Serbians, the chances are the Bulgarian commander will want to know how it happens we weren't killed also." "Stubbs," said Hal, "I told you you were always a kill-joy. You can pick more flaws in things than any one I can think of. We'll tell the Bulgarians that story and take a chance on its passing muster." "Then we may as well say our prayers now," said Stubbs mournfully. "But what will we tell them we are?" asked Chester. "Americans," replied Hal. "Caught here by the retreat. We were just making our way out of the country. I'll do the talking." "All right," said Chester, and added: "Sh-h-h, here they come now!" CHAPTER XXVII. PRISONERS. Came a knock at the door. "You answer it, Miss Ellison, please," said Hal, adding: "If you are questioned, tell the same story you told Chester." The girl nodded and moved to the door without a sign of nervousness. Directly she could be heard in conversation with one of the officers. Then followed heavy footsteps approaching. "You say they are in here? I'll have a look at them myself," said a voice. A moment later the scowling face of a Bulgarian colonel appeared in the doorway. Helen stood just behind him and behind her were several other Bulgarian officers. Hal rose, as did the others, as the Bulgarian swept into the room. "Who are you?" demanded the officer in a harsh voice. "Hal Paine, an American," replied the lad, and indicated the others after this fashion: "Chester Crawford, also an American; Harry Anderson, an American; Nikol, an Albanian, the servant there of Anthony Stubbs, American war correspondent; Ivan Vergoff, also an Albanian." "Hm-m-m," muttered the Bulgarian. "You have quite a fluent tongue, young man. And what are you doing here?" "Three of us," said Hal, indicating Chester, Colonel Anderson and himself, "were looking about Montenegro when the war broke out. We have been there since, lending what aid we could to the wounded. There we encountered Ivan Vergoff, who, for some reason, became attached to us. There also we encountered Anthony Stubbs, war correspondent, and his man, Nikol." "Very plausible, very plausible," said the Bulgarian. "But how do I know you speak the truth?" Hal shrugged his shoulders. "We can't very well offer proof of our identities," he said. "But were the American consul here, I could very soon convince him." The officer frowned at this remark. The mention of an American consul or minister or ambassador always brought frowns to the faces of military officers in the war zone. It boded trouble if American subjects were not well treated. "And how do you happen to be here?" demanded the Bulgarian. "Montenegro was becoming too warm," said Hal. "We thought we would get into Bulgaria or Greece, neutral countries. We did not know Bulgaria had declared war." The Bulgarian's face seemed to relax a trifle. Apparently Hal had made a favorable impression. "Well," he said, "the best I can do is turn you over to my superior. Still, if things are as you say, I have no doubt that you will be allowed to proceed into Greece." "Thank you, Colonel," said Hal. The officer glanced around the room; and suddenly his eyes fell upon a man lying in the corner of the room. It was the Bulgarian whom Ivan had tied up the night before. "What's that?" demanded the officer. He commanded another of his officers to investigate. Hal's heart fell. The other officer stepped quickly across the room and jerked the man to his feet. Then he untied him and drew him before the Colonel. The latter, after one glance at the Bulgarian uniform, ordered his other men to guard all exits, and he addressed the man. "What are you doing here, sir?" he asked sharply. "I came here with some of my comrades last night," said the man. "I, a little in advance of the others, was overpowered and tied up. All I know of the others is that they arrived later and there was a fight. I have heard these people say my comrades were killed." "Search the house and make a careful examination without!" ordered the Bulgarian officer. Half a dozen of his men leaped to obey. The officer said nothing until his men reported fifteen minutes later. "The man speaks the truth," said one of the officers, indicating the Bulgarian. The colonel whirled upon Hal. "So," he exclaimed, "you have been lying to me. Perhaps you are not Americans, eh? Perhaps you are attached to the Anglo-French expedition at Saloniki?" "I--" began Hal, but the officer silenced him with a gesture. Then he turned to one of his officers. "Take a squad of ten men and escort these prisoners to General Blozle!" he commanded shortly. "Search them for weapons first." Hal and Chester realized the futility of resistance. They held their arms high, as did the others, and were relieved of their weapons without a word. Then, surrounded by a guard, they were marched away. An hour later they stood before the Bulgarian commander, where the officer who had captured them related his story. General Blozle eyed them keenly. "Have you anything to say?" he asked when the colonel had presented the case against them. Chester stepped forward. "Just this, general," he said quietly. "Miss Ellison here is in no way concerned in anything we may have done. We had never seen her until last night, as she told the colonel. Also, I would like to speak a word for Mr. Stubbs here. He is, as my friend has said, an American war correspondent. That's all, sir." The lad resumed his place. "Bah!" exclaimed the general. "You as much as admit you are a spy. If you are a spy, so are the others. You are a lot of spies. You English hounds! If it were not for the English, Bulgaria would now have what was rightfully hers. You shall all be shot at sunrise! Take them away!" The prisoners were marched out with scant ceremony. They were taken to a large tent, with ample room for all of them. There they were securely bound and a guard stationed without. "Well," said Stubbs quietly, with nothing of the fear of other days in his manner, "I guess we have come to the finish line at last." "It looks that way, Mr. Stubbs," said Chester sadly. "I am sorry that we have implicated you in this." "Oh, that's all right," replied the little man. "I'm not blaming you. But I would have liked to go back to New York once more." Chester turned to Helen. "And you, Miss Ellison," he said. "I hardly know what to say. If it had not been for me, you would not have been in this serious predicament." Helen smiled at him. "Say no more about it," she said quietly. "You saved me once. I am not the girl to whine now." "Now that you people have all decided you are going to die, I would like to say a few words." It was the voice of Nikol. The others looked at him in surprise. "What's the matter with you?" demanded Stubbs. "Want to berate us, I suppose, for getting you into this fix." Nikol eyed Stubbs somewhat scornfully. "I," said Nikol, "wish to say that while there is life there is hope." "Good for you, old man," cried Hal. "You have expressed my thoughts exactly." "Suppose you tell us how, securely tied as we are, we are going to get out of here?" Stubbs addressed Nikol. "Very simple," said Nikol. "First I want to say this. I am no strategist. I can unloosen us all, if some one else will show us the way out." "You do your part, Nikol, and I'll try and do mine," said Hal quietly. The dwarf eyed him approvingly. "You are the one person in the crowd who seems to have sense," he said. "As I say, I can break our bonds at any time. I can break the ropes that bind me and I have no doubt that Ivan there can do the same." Ivan nodded his head energetically. "I had thought of it," he smiled. "Yes; I can do it." "Then why haven't you done it a long while ago?" demanded Stubbs. "Anything is better than remaining here like this." "I haven't done it before for fear of discovery," said Nikol. "My idea exactly," agreed Ivan. "It would be better," Nikol continued, "to wait until we are sure we shall not be disturbed again during the night. Then Ivan and I shall free ourselves and release the others. I believe it would be unwise now." "Good reasoning, Nikol," said Hal. "We shall wait, as you suggest." Nikol became silent again. Ivan said nothing either. "But it's awfully tiresome being trussed up like this," Stubbs protested. "Better a little tiresomeness now than a bullet in the morning, Mr. Stubbs," returned Chester. "Right you are, Chester, I'll kick no more," said Stubbs. He, too, became silent. Hal, Chester and Colonel Anderson talked in low whispers. "After we are freed of our bonds, then what?" questioned the Colonel. Chester shrugged his shoulders as much as his bonds would permit. "Ask Hal," he replied. "I don't seem to be able to think of anything." "Well," said Hal, "our guards, knowing that we are apparently securely bound, won't keep as strict guard as they should, I hope. Once freed, perhaps we can tap one of them over the head and appropriate his uniform. After that another uniform and so on until there are garments for all. We'll climb into them. Then we'll crawl under the tent, and once outside, we'll strike out boldly." "And after that?" questioned Chester. This time it was Hal who shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows?" he said quietly. "We'll have to leave something to chance." "And Miss Ellison?" "A uniform for her also," said Hal decisively. "It's the only way." "But--" "Oh, I know it is a desperate chance," exclaimed Hal. "But certainly it is better than sitting down and awaiting the arrival of the firing squad." "You're right, Hal," said Chester. "But it's a ticklish business and one that will require nerve." "It's not a question of nerve, when you know what's in store in the morning," said Hal. "But as this is my plan, I'll do the work, or what part of it I may." "You're the doctor," Chester agreed. "Now," said Hal, "we'll try and get a little sleep. We can do nothing until after dark, and the better our physical conditions, the better our chances for escape." CHAPTER XXVIII. THROUGH THE NIGHT. Hal, Chester, Colonel Anderson, Nikol and Ivan slept. The first three, veterans of many campaigns and hardships, had schooled themselves to sleep under almost any conditions. The same might be said of Nikol and Ivan because of days spent in the mountain fastness, where danger lurked at all times. Stubbs, however, although he bore up bravely under the death sentence, was unable to sleep, try as he would. Nor could Helen gain a much needed rest, though she was not conscious that she was at all afraid. So these two talked during the long hours of the day as the others slept peacefully and deeply. With the coming of darkness a man entered bearing a tray with bread and water. The others awakened now and all did full justice to the frugal meal. Their hands were untied while they ate, but the meal over, they were bound again. Then all waited for what seemed hours, though in reality it could not have been more than three. Then Hal addressed Nikol. "Still think you can break your bonds?" "I can," replied Nikol quietly. "And you, Ivan?" "Yes, although it won't make much difference. Nikol could release the rest of us." "I thought the second tying-up might have made it impossible," said Hal. "I'm ready any time you give the word," said Nikol. "Then do it now," said Hal. The others gazed curiously as Nikol made his little form still smaller. He drew in his chest as much as possible and then expanded suddenly, at the same time thrusting out with his strong arms. There was a report as of a revolver being discharged, though much fainter, and Nikol was free. "Ha!" said Ivan. "He did it. Now watch me." The mighty muscles of the giant strained once and the strong rope snapped. Ivan did not seem to have exerted himself. "Now for the rest of us," said Hal. Quickly Ivan and Nikol released the others. "Now what?" asked Ivan. "Now comes my work," said Hal quietly. He moved silently to the edge of the tent and lay down flat, feeling the edges with his fingers. "This will come up all right," he muttered to himself. "I can get out here." He went back to the center of the tent again and enjoined the others to silence. "Don't make a sound on your lives," he commanded sternly. "Chester, you remain right where I leave the tent and if I bring a man back with me you drag him under and see that he doesn't make a sound." Chester nodded his agreement and took his place at Hal's side. Now the lad lifted the bottom of the canvas slightly and peered out. He smiled a trifle to himself. It was as he hoped. The guard or guards, as the case might be, was not as vigilant as the security of the prisoners should have required. Hal wriggled into the open. The huge camp slept. Here and there a sentinel stalked and it was upon these guardians of the night that Hal must prey. He moved toward the front of the prison tent, seeking the guard there. And directly he came upon him, stretched at full length upon the ground, his heavy military coat pulled closely about him, smoking a cigarette. Hal moved toward him cautiously. "I hate to do this," he muttered, "but--" With a light leap he was upon the man and his right fist shot out hard and true. It caught the Bulgarian just above the left ear and the man never made a sound. Quickly Hal dragged the body to where he knew Chester would be waiting. Chester dragged it under the tent and Hal went under after it. "This uniform is for me. I'll go after some more," he said. Quickly he climbed into the Bulgarian uniform and disappeared again. But this time, garbed in a Bulgarian uniform, he went more confidently. His hand rested upon his revolver. A short distance away he came upon an unsuspecting sentinel. A sharp blow with his revolver butt placed the other _hors de combat_. Supporting the unconscious figure with his arm, Hal moved back to the prison tent. This figure also was pushed beneath the canvas and the uniform donned by Chester. "Now we can make a little better time," said Hal, "there are two of us." Uniforms were still needed for Colonel Anderson, Ivan, Nikol, Stubbs and Helen. Hal and Chester disappeared into the night. Five minutes later Hal returned, this time with a uniform and no man. He had found him in a deserted spot, and after knocking him down and tying him up, had stripped him. "Put this on, Anderson, and get out after one," he ordered. He was gone again a moment later. Soon also Chester returned successful and he and Anderson departed almost together. There were now needed uniforms for Nikol, Stubbs and Helen, for Chester had brought one for Ivan. And these uniforms must necessarily be small uniforms, for they were for small figures. Therefore, the hunt was longer and it was more than an hour later until all three had returned to the tent. "Well, here we are, all of us first class Bulgarians, now," said Hal. "Now, we'll leave the tent one at a time, except that I shall take Miss Ellison with me first. Now do exactly what I tell you, all of you. Leaving the tent, walk two hundred paces to the left, then turn to the right and walk a hundred and fifty more. Next fifty paces to the left again. We shall wait for you there. I have covered the distance and it's the best place to join forces I can imagine. It is in the shelter of a great rock that overhangs a large tent--probably the quarters of the commanding officer. Do you all understand?" He had each repeat the directions several times, and then, taking Helen by the arm, he helped her under the tent. Outside, with caps drawn down, for the weather was cold, they hurried on. And at the appointed place Hal stopped. There was nothing to do now but wait for the others. Stubbs was the next to arrive and he came shaking a trifle. The little man was trying to bear up, but he was having a hard time. The next arrival was Nikol and then came Ivan. Chester was next to arrive, following Colonel Anderson by a few seconds. "Now we're all here," said Hal. "We may as well move. I have no idea just where we are, so we'll have to select a direction and stick to it." "Wait a moment, please," said Helen. "Isn't that the house in which we were captured?" She pointed in the darkness. The others peered intently in the direction indicated. A dark shadow loomed up some distance ahead. "I believe it is," said Hal. "Why?" "Then, if you want to get into Greece, the quickest way is to go due south." "But the question is, which is south?" said Hal. "Oh, I can tell you that. You just follow the road that leads by the house." "So be it," said Hal. "March." With Chester and Helen he led the way. They were forced to go very slowly for they were still in the Bulgarian lines, and all knew they would be for a considerable distance. How far the Bulgarians had extended their lines following the retreat of the Serbians they had of course no means of knowing, but Hal felt sure it would be a good ways. Tents dotted their line of march for an hour as they walked along keeping parallel with the road, but some distance from the highway. "This road will eventually lead across the Greek border," the girl whispered as they walked along. "Here's hoping we get across the border before the Bulgarians get after us," said Chester. "Second that motion," declared Hal. They walked on in silence. It had been more than an hour now since they had left their late prison and Hal was beginning to hope their absence would not be noticed before morning. He had just said as much to Chester. "I am afraid that is too much to hope for," was the latter's reply. And, as it turned out, it was. The party had walked possibly five miles, when, from behind, they heard the sudden booming of a great gun. "Faster," said Hal, and broke into a trot. The others followed suit. "Suppose they have discovered our flight, or the gun was some other signal?" said Chester. "I don't know," said Hal. "It's as likely to be one as the other. The farther away we get the better." More guns now shattered the stillness of the night, growing closer and closer. "They are after us, all right," declared Hal. Without pausing, he glanced quickly around. Then suddenly he swerved sharply to the left. "Why this change in course?" panted Chester. "See that woods?" demanded Hal, pointing. "Yes." "Well, we may find safety there. It's a long chance." They dashed into the shelter of the little woods a moment later. Hal stopped and turned to Helen. "Climb?" he asked. "Why, yes, I guess so." "Up in this tree with you then." He lent her a hand as she grasped the lowest branch and soon clambered higher up toward the top. "You too, Stubbs," he commanded. The little man did not hesitate, but also was soon among the branches. "Colonel Anderson, you and Nikol get up there also. I want some protection for Miss Ellison in case of trouble." The others obeyed orders without question. "All right," from each, and they moved toward him. "Ivan, you come with me. You too, Chester." Hal turned for a moment, to deliver a parting injunction to those in the trees: "Don't any of you so much as move until I tell you to." "And where are we bound?" asked Chester, as the three moved off. "Apparently," said Hal, "we are Bulgarian officers. The bluff may work. I want to tell all inquiring parties that we have just explored these woods. Catch the idea?" Chester and Ivan nodded. CHAPTER XXIX. MR. STUBBS PROVES HIMSELF. "We'll stay in among the trees and won't show ourselves unless we have to," Hal explained. From the direction in which the fugitives had so recently come, there now came the noise of a rapidly approaching body of horsemen. They halted a short distance from where Hal, Chester and Ivan stood and dismounted. "They may be hiding in here," said a voice. "We'll have a look." The men, a dozen of them, came forward. Making a slight detour, the three friends managed to get behind them. Then, instead of continuing straight ahead, Hal turned sharply in his tracks and followed in the wake of the Bulgarian searching party. The Bulgarians proceeded slowly, exploring every nook and corner of the woods, and firing their rifles into the densest of the trees. Hal, Chester and Ivan came up with them at length and mingled among them without being discovered. "Off to the left farther," instructed the officer in command. "No use," said Hal, in a gruff voice. "I've just come from there. There is no one there. The fugitives must have gone farther." "Are you sure?" asked the officer, looking at the lad searchingly. "Positive. I fired my revolver into every tree in which I thought there was a possible chance for them to hide." "There is no use wasting more time, then," said the officer. "This way, men." He led the way back toward the road. Hal, Chester and Ivan, still among the Bulgarian troopers, were forced to go along with them or run the risk of being detected. They all walked slowly and gradually were left behind. The Bulgarians mounted and rode off down the road. "Well, we are safe for a few minutes," said Chester, drawing a breath of relief. "What now, Hal?" "Well," was the reply. "We can't fool about in these woods long. We are bound to be found sooner or later if we do. Also, there is little chance that we could walk to the Greek frontier without being discovered. In some way we must find a conveyance." "Yes, but how?" questioned Chester. "That's the question. But certainly some of these Bulgarian officers must have motor cars. Surely they have some means of transportation besides horses. I have an idea that if we will follow them, in their search, we may come across an automobile." "That's not a half bad idea," declared Chester. "We'll do it. Shall we start now?" "Hold on," said Hal. "Either you or I must remain here. We can't both go. One of us has to direct the actions of the others." "True," said Chester. "Will you go or stay?" "Whatever you say," said Hal. "Then," said Chester, "we shall match to see who goes." He produced a coin and Hal did likewise. "If I match you, I go," said Hal. "If not, you go." "Agreed!" The two coins went spinning in the air and each lad caught his own as it descended and covered it with his hand. "Tails," said Chester. "Tails," said Hal. "I go." "All right," said Chester. "Then I'll be moving back toward the others. Good luck, old man, and hurry back." The two lads clasped hands and Chester turned on his heel and strode away. "You shall go with me, Ivan," said Hal. The big Cossack showed his pleasure. "I was afraid I was going to be left behind," he said. "I thought you might need me." "I hope I won't," said Hal, "but you never can tell, you know. Let's be moving." Again he led the way to the road and the two set out briskly. After half an hour's walk they came upon a party of searchers. An officer hailed them as they approached. "Seen anything of the fugitives?" he demanded. Hal shook his head negatively. "Did you?" he asked. "Not a sign. It's a mystery what can have happened to them. Colonel Roth is a short distance ahead. I heard him say he believed they were still in the main camp." "That so?" replied Hal. "How is the colonel traveling? Automobile?" "Of course. He's too dainty for any other kind of travel, you know." "Well, we'll move on ahead a bit," said Hal. They continued their journey. Fifteen minutes later they came upon a large touring car in the road. "Here is the thing we want," said Hal quietly. "Now if it were just turned around, I would take a chance and grab it. But by the time I turned in this narrow road, I'd have the whole Bulgarian army on me. We'll have to do a little figuring." They continued on their way until they came up with Colonel Roth's searching party. As they approached, an idea suddenly came to Hal. He sought out the man he knew must be Colonel Roth by his haughty air and his stripes. "Colonel," he said, saluting. "I know it would be a feather in your cap if you could land these fugitives, and I have come to show you where they are." "What's that?" exclaimed the dapper little man. "I said I've come to show you where they are," said Hal quietly. "All I ask for turning them over to you is a thousand German marks." "H-m-m-m," muttered the colonel, eyeing the lad keenly. "Even if you can do what you say, the price is rather high. I'll give you five hundred." Hal seemed to consider. "All right," he said at length. "It's a bargain. Turn your car about and I'll take you to their hiding place at once." "Very well." The colonel stepped into his automobile, and, after a series of attempts, finally succeeded in turning it. Then to the others: "Climb in," he said briefly. Ivan climbed into the rear seat, while Hal took his place beside the Bulgarian. "Straight ahead until I tell you to stop," the lad instructed. The Bulgarian officer asked no questions. A few minutes later the machine drew up in response to Hal's command. All dismounted. "They are all back here a little ways," said Hal. The Bulgarian officer followed Hal toward where the lad knew the others were in hiding. Under the tree where he had left Helen, Hal paused. Then he raised his voice a trifle and called aloud, at the same time drawing his revolver and presenting it squarely at the Bulgarian's head: "Chester! Oh, Chester! You can all come down now." In response to this hail, Chester, Helen, Mr. Stubbs and Nikol soon stood before them. When Hal drew his revolver, the Bulgarian officer staggered back. "A traitor, eh?" he exclaimed. "Why, no," said Hal, and he removed his heavy cap. The Bulgarian gave a long whistle and ejaculated: "One of the fugitives himself." "So you know me?" said Hal. "Well, then you should know me well enough to do as I say." "What is it you want?" demanded the Bulgarian. "Nothing very difficult," declared Hal. "First we want to borrow your automobile for a few hours." "So?" exclaimed the Bulgarian. "Well, you can't have it." "We'll see," said Hal quietly. "Here, Ivan! You guard this fellow, while I have a look at the car." He examined the machine carefully. "All right for a quick dash, I guess," he said finally, rising from his inspection. "All aboard!" Every one obeyed, and soon all were seated in the car save Hal and Chester, who were to occupy the front seat. Hal also motioned the Bulgarian into the front seat. "He may come in handy after awhile," he declared. Everything in readiness at last, Hal and Chester climbed in and Hal took his place at the wheel. "I'll do the chauffeuring," he said, with a smile. "I may have to do some talking later and I want to be running this animal, so I can know what to do without having to talk. Keep your eye on our friend, there, Chester." "I'll hang on to him, all right," replied Chester grimly. "He'll not get away from me. Have no fear of that." "All right," called Hal. "Everybody ready?" He glanced around quickly. "All ready," came in Colonel Anderson's voice. The others nodded their assent and an instant later the machine darted southward at a rapid gait. Two miles down the road, Hal was forced to stop by the presence in the road of a single man armed with a rifle, which he aimed straight at the car. "What do you want?" demanded Hal, anxiously. "You'll have to get out," was the man's reply. "I have orders to let no one pass." Helen looked at Hal hopelessly and the lad was moved to action. Gently he stirred the Colonel with his toe as he commanded under his breath: "Speak for us or I'll put a bullet through you." The officer did as commanded. "Why are you barring our way?" he demanded in a harsh voice. "Orders, sir," was the reply. "Do you know who I am?" "No, sir, and it will make no difference." This conversation was put to an end in a sudden and unexpected manner. Anthony Stubbs rose in his place. "Will you permit us to proceed?" he demanded. The man in the road shook his head. "All right," said Stubbs. He climbed to the front seat, and before any one could realize what he was up to, sprang head-first at the Bulgarian. CHAPTER XXX. "GREATER LOVE HATH NO MAN." Stubbs' action was so entirely unexpected that for a moment the other occupants of the automobile were stunned. Then Hal and Chester leaped to their feet, as did Nikol, Ivan and Colonel Anderson. "Little man's gone off his head," muttered Ivan, as he leaped from the car to go to Stubbs' assistance. Stubbs, in his headlong leap, struck exactly where he had intended--right upon the Bulgarian's shoulders, and the force of the impact bore the man to the ground. Again, the action was so unexpected that the man did not have time to discharge his rifle. As the soldier went to the ground beneath his weight, Stubbs' hands gripped him by the throat and he squeezed as hard as his weak muscles would permit. But the Bulgarian had recovered himself now and hurled Stubbs to one side. He pulled himself to his feet, and with an angry growl, half raised his rifle. It was at that moment that Ivan, quicker than the others, seized the rifle in his two hands. He gave a quick twist and jerked the weapon from the hands of his opponent. The latter staggered back and his hand dropped to his belt. But before he could draw a revolver, Ivan had raised his newly won rifle and brought it down on the Bulgarian's head. The man dropped inert without a sound. Then Ivan picked Stubbs up bodily, deposited him in the tonneau of the car and climbed in himself. "We'd better get away from here," he said. Quickly Hal resumed his seat and threw off the clutch. The automobile dashed forward again. Ivan turned to Stubbs. "Why all this bloodthirstiness, Mr. Stubbs?" he demanded in surprise. "I'm getting tired of all this nonsense," replied Stubbs. "I want to get out of this country. I want to get back home where there is no war--where men are not killing each other off by the thousands. I'm a peaceable man and I'm going back to a peaceable country if I have to fight to get there." Nikol the dwarf now extended a hand to Stubbs. "You are a brave man, sir," he exclaimed. "Not many are there who would have attacked a man who held a rifle pointed at his breast. You are a brave man, sir." Unthinkingly, Stubbs clasped the hand and a moment later gave a howl of pain. "Hey! Leggo my hand!" he cried. "Ouch!" Nikol released Stubbs' hand with a murmured apology, while Stubbs felt the injured right member tenderly with his left and turned an aggrieved eye on Nikol, but he said nothing. Suddenly the car slowed down. Those in the rear seat glanced ahead and the reason for the abrupt slackening of speed became apparent. Coming toward them at a rapid trot was a squadron of Bulgarian cavalry, blocking the road. Hal turned to the Bulgarian officer between him and Chester and said quietly: "Now it's up to you. Remember, I've got my gun ready and at the first false move I'll put a bullet through you." The captain in command of the cavalry squadron gave a sharp command and his men drew rein while the officer came forward. He glanced at the colonel in the automobile and saluted. "Oh, it's you, sir," he said. "Have you seen anything of the fugitives?" The Bulgarian felt the pressure of Hal's revolver in his back. "No," he said. The captain saluted and would have passed on, but Hal instructed his prisoner to ask: "How far are we from the Greek frontier?" "Less than a mile," was the answer. "There is but one more body of our troops between here and a strong force of Greeks, which is patrolling the border." The two Bulgarians saluted each other and the troop separated to make a path for the automobile. "Another close shave for all of us," said Chester, when they had passed by. "You, too," he said to the Bulgarian. "You'd have been a goner if you had sought to give the alarm." A few minutes later Hal made out another body of troops blocking the road. He reduced the speed of the car and spoke to the others. "The last barrier to freedom," he said. "Be ready to duck down in the car. I am going to take no more chances with our prisoner here. He is likely to take this last chance to betray us. The troops are drawn up on both sides of the road. I am going to make a dash for it." There was no reply, but Hal had expected none. The car approached the troops slowly and seemed about to stop. The Bulgarians moved to one side, thinking to surround the machine when it had come to a halt. Less than fifty feet from the nearest soldiers, and a scant two hundred yards from where Hal could make out a large body of Greek troops, the car suddenly leaped ahead and Hal threw the gear into high. All save Hal ducked instinctively. The Bulgarians, taken completely by surprise, stood stock still for a moment and then the cry of in officer rang out: "Fire!" Instantly fifty rifles were leveled at the automobile, now fast eating up the short distance to the Greek frontier, and a score of bullets struck the car in the rear. Bullets flew all about Hal's head and he felt a stinging sensation in his left shoulder. There came a second volley and then the car flashed among the body of Greek troops. Quickly Hal brought the car to a stop. Heads bobbed up from the back of the car and it was Anthony Stubbs who breathed the relief that all felt. "Safe at last!" he cried. Now all alighted from the car, the Bulgarian officer, Hal's prisoner, with them. Greek troops approached. Hal spoke hurriedly to the Bulgarian. "Quick now!" he cried. "If you make a dash you can get back over the border before these fellows can stop you." The Bulgarian wasted no time in talk. He took to his heels and made record time for his own country, which he reached in safety, in spite of a volley fired by the Greek troops. A Greek officer now came hurriedly up to Hal. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded harshly. "Do you not know that this is a neutral country?" "And we thank Heaven for that," said Stubbs fervently. "We have had a hard enough time getting here." "I shall have to turn you over to my superior," said the officer. "He will dispose of your cases. In the meantime, you may consider yourselves under arrest." Neither Hal nor Chester paid much attention to what the Greek officer was saying. They were too busily engaged watching the antics of their erstwhile prisoner, who, now safe on his own side of the line, was shaking his fist in their direction and making other fierce gestures. Now Hal turned to the Greek officer. "Will you accompany us back close to the line," he said, "that we may hear what yonder little fellow is talking about? He seems to be greatly put out about something." "First tell me what you are doing here?" was the command. Hal explained as rapidly as possible and then repeated his request that they be allowed to go back toward the border a few moments. At last the officer gave his permission. Chester, Hal, Colonel Anderson, Ivan and Nikol, each grinning, moved back toward the border. Stubbs hung back, and seeing this, Hal called: "Come along, Mr. Stubbs. Here is one time you may look at an enemy with impunity." Stubbs followed. The Bulgarian officer was still angrily waving hit arms about when they neared him. "Look at him rave, will you?" said Hal, with a laugh. "Ha! Ha!" laughed Ivan. "He should think himself lucky that we allowed him to go back," declared Chester. The friends were less than fifty feet from the Bulgarian now, but they ventured no closer for fear they might inadvertently cross the line. They stood in this order: Hal, Chester, Nikol, Stubbs, Ivan and Colonel Anderson. "Poor little fellow," said Stubbs at this juncture. "Poor little fellow. He looks so awfully mad!" The Bulgarian officer, who had been growing angrier with each taunt from across the Greek line, now became suddenly infuriated. Forgetting all prudence, forgetting all laws of neutrality, forgetting everything except the smiling face of Anthony Stubbs, American war correspondent, he suddenly drew his revolver and fired pointblank at the little man. Stubbs' face blanched at the movement and the others were too surprised to move--all except one; and this one, quick as a flash, leaped forward with the agility of a cat and thrust his body protectingly before Anthony Stubbs. When the smoke of the revolver had cleared away Stubbs stood erect, unharmed--but at his feet lay the twitching body of Nikol, the dwarf. There was a sudden hush, prolonged for several minutes; then Stubbs dropped to his knee with an inarticulate cry and threw his arms around the neck of Nikol. Quickly the others gathered about and Hal shouted: "A surgeon, quick!" But Nikol, raising his head to Stubbs' knee, stopped him with a gesture. "It's no use," he said quietly. "It got me here," and he raised a hand slowly and touched a spot just above the heart. "A surgeon can do no good. Besides, I would not have a stranger near me when I die. To me you are all strangers and yet for days I have not looked upon you as such. I am glad to have known you all and I know the day will come when I shall see you all again. Now, if I could see the young lady for just a moment before--before--" Hal hastened back to the automobile where Helen Ellison still sat, wondering at the cause of the trouble, and repeated the dwarf's request. "Of course I'll go," said the girl, and there was a catch in her voice, for this was the first time death had come so close to her. She ran forward and knelt over the little dwarf and took his hand. He smiled at her. "I just wanted to tell you good-bye," he said. "I have never seen a young lady like you before." For a space of several seconds he looked at her. Then he dropped her hand and said: "Now if the rest of you will just shake hands with me once--" Silently the others grasped Nikol's hand, one after another, and at the last came Stubbs. To the latter's hand the dwarf clung tenaciously. "You, sir, are a brave man," said Nikol. "I am glad I was able to save you. You may be of some use in the world." The pressure upon Stubbs' hand tightened and tightened until the little man winced with the pain of it; but he made no outcry--only smiled as he exclaimed in a broken voice: "Nonsense! Nonsense!" "Well, good-bye, all," said Nikol faintly, after a moment's pause. "Good--" The pressure on Stubbs' hand relaxed and the little dwarf of the Albanian hills fell back, dead. Stubbs rose and brushed the tears from his eyes. Then, after one look at the still form on the ground, he turned and walked away. The others said nothing, for they knew his grief was great. And now, while the others--all good friends and true--are gathered about the body of little Nikol, the dwarf, we shall leave them once more, knowing that, after days and weeks of strenuous adventures and grave perils, they are, for the moment at least, in a land of peace. THE END. 
19669	----	TWENTY YEARS OF BALKAN TANGLE BY M. EDITH DURHAM. AUTHOR OF THE BURDEN OF THE BALKANS, HIGH ALBANIA, THE STRUGGLE FOR SCUTARI, ETC. LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD. RUSKIN HOUSE, 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C.1 First published 1920 (All rights reserved) PREFACE "And let men beware how they neglect and suffer Matter of Trouble to be prepared; for no Man can forbid the Sparke nor tell whence it come." BACON. MINE is but a tale of small straws; but of small straws carefully collected. And small straws show whence the wind blows. There are currents and cross currents which may make a whirlwind. For this reason the tale of the plots and counterplots through which I lived in my many years of Balkan travel, seems worth the telling. Events which were incomprehensible at the time have since been illumined by later developments, and I myself am surprised to find how accurately small facts noted in my diaries, fit in with official revelations. Every detail, every new point of view, may help the future history in calmer days than these, to a just understanding of the world catastrophe. It is with this hope that I record the main facts of the scenes I witnessed and in which I sometimes played a part. M. E. DURHAM. CONTENTS PREFACE CHAPTER 1. PICKING UP THE THREADS CHAPTER 2. MONTENEGRO AND HER RULERS CHAPTER 3. FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF LAND AND PEOPLE CHAPTER 4. SERBIA AND THE WAY THERE CHAPTER 5. WHAT WAS BEHIND IT ALL CHAPTER 6. THE GREAT SERBIAN IDEA CHAPTER 7. 1903 AND WHAT HAPPENED CHAPTER 8. MACEDONIA 1903-1904 CHAPTER 9. ALBANIA CHAPTER 10. MURDER WILL OUT CHAPTER 11. 1905 CHAPTER 12. BOSNIA AND THE HERZEGOVINA CHAPTER 13. BOSNIA IN 1906. THE PLOT THICKENS CHAPTER 14. 1907 CHAPTER 15. 1908: A FATEFUL YEAR CHAPTER 16. 1909. CHAPTER 17. 1910 CHAPTER 18. 1911 AND THE INSURRECTION OF THE CATHOLICS CHAPTER 19. 1912. THE FIRST DROPS OF THE THUNDERSTORM CHAPTER 20. 1914. CHAPTER 21. THE YEARS OF THE WAR INDEX. TWENTY YEARS OF BALKAN TANGLE CHAPTER ONE PICKING UP THE THREADS It was in Cetinje in August, 1900, that I first picked up a thread of the Balkan tangle, little thinking how deeply enmeshed I should later become, and still less how this tangle would ultimately affect the whole world. Chance, or the Fates, took me Near Eastward. Completely exhausted by constant attendance on an invalid relative, the future stretched before me as endless years of grey monotony, and escape seemed hopeless. The doctor who insisted upon my having two months' holiday every year was kinder than he knew. "Take them in quite a new place," he said. "Get right away no matter where, so long as the change is complete." Along with a friend I boarded an Austrian Lloyd steamer at Trieste, and with high hopes but weakened health, started for the ports of the Eastern Adriatic. Threading the maze of mauve islets set in that incomparably blue and dazzling sea; touching every day at ancient towns where strange tongues were spoken and yet stranger garments worn, I began to feel that life after all might be worth living and the fascination of the Near East took hold of me. A British Consul, bound to Asia Minor, leaned over the bulwark and drew a long breath of satisfaction. "We are in the East!" he said. "Can't you smell it? I feel I am going home. You are in the East so soon as you cross Adria." He added tentatively: "People don't understand. When you go back to England they say, 'How glad you must be to get home!' They made me spend most of my leave on a house-boat on the Thames, and of all the infernal things. ... "I laughed. I did not care if I never saw England again. . . . "You won't ever go back again now, will you?" he asked whimsically, after learning whence I came. "I must," said I, sadly. "Oh don't," said he; "tell them you can't, and just wander about the East." He transshipped shortly and disappeared, one of many passing travellers with whom one is for a few moments on common ground. Our voyage ended at Cattaro and there every one, Baedeker included, said it was correct to drive up to Cetinje. Then you could drive down next day and be able to say ever afterwards, "I have travelled in Montenegro." It was in Cetinje that it was borne in on me that I had found the "quite new place" which I sought. Thus Fate led me to the Balkans. Cetinje then was a mere red-roofed village conspicuous on the mountain-ringed plain. Its cottages were but one storeyed for the most part, and contained some three thousand inhabitants. One big building stood up on the left of the road as the traveller entered. "No. That is not the palace of the Prince," said the driver. "It is the Austro-Hungarian Legation." Austria had started the great Legation building competition which occupied the Great Powers for the next few years. Each Power strove to erect a mansion in proportion to the amount of "influence" it sought to obtain in this "sphere." Russia at once followed. Then came Italy, with France hard on her heels. England, it is interesting to note, started last; by way of economizing bought an old house, added, tinkered and finally at great expense rebuilt nearly the whole of it and got it quite done just before the outbreak of the Great War, when it was beginning to be doubtful if Montenegro would ever again require a British Legation. But this is anticipating. In 1900 most of the Foreign Ministers Plenipotentiary dwelt in cottages or parlour-boarded at the Grand Hotel, the focus of civilization, where they dined together at the Round Table of Cetinje, presided over by Monsieur Piguet, the Swiss tutor of the young Princes; a truly tactful man whom I have observed to calm a heated altercation between two Great Powers by switching off the conversation from such a delicate question as: "Which Legation has the finest flag, France or Italy?" to something of international interest such as: "Which washer-woman in Cetinje gets up shirt fronts best?" For Ministers Plenipotentiary, when not artificially inflated with the importance of the land they represent, are quite like ordinary human beings. Their number and variety caused me to ask: "But why are so many Powers represented in such a hole of a place?" And the Italian architect who was designing the Russian Legation replied, more truly than he was perhaps aware: "Because Montenegro is the matchbox upon which the next European war will be lighted!" Cetinje was then extraordinarily picturesque. The Prince did all he could to emphasize nationality. National dress was worn by all. So fine was the Court dress of Montenegro that oddly enough Prince Nikola was about the only ruling Sovereign in Europe who really looked like one. The inroads of Cook's tourists had stopped his former custom of hobnobbing with visitors, and he dodged with dignity and skill the attempts of American snapshotters to corner him and say: "How do, Prince!" A vivid picture remains in my mind of the Royal Family as it filed out of church on the feast of the Assumption of the Virgin. The Prince, heavy-built, imposing, gorgeous; his hair iron grey, ruddy-faced, hook-nosed, keen-eyed. Danilo, his heir, crimped, oiled and self-conscious, in no respect a chip of the old block, who had married the previous year, Jutta, daughter of the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg Strelitz, who, on her reception into the Orthodox Church, took the name of Militza. Montenegro was still excited about the wedding. She looked dazzlingly fair among her dark "in-laws." Old Princess Milena came, stately and handsome, her hair, still black, crowning her head with a huge plait. Prince Mirko, the second son, was still a slim and good looking youth. Petar, the youngest, a mere child, mounted a little white pony and galloped past in the full dress of an officer, reining up and saluting with a tiny sword as he passed his father. The crowd roared applause. It was all more like a fairy tale than real life. But the black coated Ministers Plenipotentiary were all quite real. From Cetinje we went to Podgoritza where for the first time I saw Albanians. Podgoritza was full of them, all in national dress, for Montenegro had as yet done little towards suppressing this. Nor in this first visit did I go further inland. But I had found "the land where I could have a complete change"; had learnt, too, of the Great Serbian Idea; had had the meaning of the Montenegrin cap explained to me; and been told how the reconstruction of the Great Serb Empire of the Middle Ages was what Montenegro lived for. Also that the first step in that direction must be the taking of the Sanjak of Novibazar, which had been formed as a barrier between the two branches of the Serb race by the Powers at the Berlin Congress. To me it sounded then fantastic--operatic. I had yet to learn that the opera bouffe of the Balkans is written in blood and that those who are dead when the curtain falls, never come to life again. So much for Montenegro. We returned after a run to Trebinje, Serajevo and Mostar, to the Dalmatian coast and Trieste. First impressions are vivid. There is a certain interest in the fact that I recorded Spalato in my diary as the first Slav town on our way south from Trieste and that my letter thence was dated Spljet, the Slav form of the name. The one pre-eminently Italian town of Dalmatia is Zara. From Zara south, the language becomes more and more Slav. But the Slav speaking peasants that flock to market are by no means the same in physical type as the South Slavs of the Bosnian Hinterland. It is obvious that they are of other blood. They are known as Morlachs, that is Sea Vlachs, and historically are in all probability descendants of the pre-Slav native population which, together with the Roman colonists, fled coast ward before the inrush of the Slav invaders of the seventh century. Latin culture clung along the coast and was reinforced later by the Venetians. And a Latin dialect was spoken until recent times, dying out on the island of Veglio at the end of the nineteenth century. The Slavizing process which has steadily gone on is due, partly to natural pressure coastward of the Slav masses of the Hinterland and partly to artificial means. Austria, who ever since the break-up of the Holy Roman Empire, had recognized Italy as a possible danger, had mitigated this by drawing Italy into the Triple Alliance. But she was well aware that fear of France, not love of Austria, made Italy take this step. Therefore to reduce the danger of a strong Italia Irredenta on the east of Adria she encouraged Atavism against Italianism, regarding the ignorant and incoherent Slavs as less dangerous than the industrious and scientific Italians. Similarly, England decided that the half-barbarous Russians were less likely to be commercial rivals than the industrious and scientific Germans, and sided with Russia. Future historians will judge the wisdom of these decisions. During the fourteen years in which I went up and down the coast, the Slavizing process in Dalmatia visibly progressed, until the German-Austrians began to realize that they were "warming a viper," and to feel nervous. Almost yearly there were more zones in which no photographs might be taken and more forts were built. Having picked up the thread of the Balkans the next thing was to learn a Balkan language, for in 1900 scarcely a soul in Montenegro spoke aught but Serb. Nor was any dictionary of the language to be bought at Cetinje. The one bookshop of Montenegro was carefully supervised by the Prince, who saw to it that the people should read nothing likely to disturb their ideas, and the literature obtainable was mainly old national ballads and the poetical works of the Prince and his father, Grand Voy voda Mirko. In London in 1900 it was nearly impossible to find a teacher of Serb, and a New Testament from the Bible Society was the only book available. Finally a Pole--a political refugee from Russia and a student of all Slav languages--undertook to teach me. English he knew none, and but little German and had been but a few weeks in England. I asked for his first impressions. His reply was unexpected. What surprised him most was that the English thought Russia a Great Power and were even afraid of her. I explained that Russia was a monster ready to spring on our Indian frontier--that she possessed untold wealth and countless hordes. He laughed scornfully. In halting German he said "Russia is nothing--nothing. The wealth is underground. They have not the sense to get it. Their Army is large, but it is rotten. All Russia is rotten. If there is a war the Russian Army will be--will be--" he stammered for a word--"will be like this!" He snatched up a piece of waste paper, crumpled it and flung it contemptuously into the waste paper basket. I never forgot the gesture. Later, when folk foretold Japan's certain defeat if she tackled the monster, and in 1914 talked crazily of "the Russian steam-roller" I saw only that crumpled rag of paper flying into the basket. By that time I had seen too much of the Slav to trust him in any capacity. But this is anticipating. CHAPTER TWO MONTENEGRO AND HER RULERS In days of old the priest was King, Obedient to his nod, Man rushed to slay his brother man As sacrifice to God. THE events seen by the casual traveller are meaningless if he knows not what went before. They are mere sentences from the middle of a book he has not read. Before going further we must therefore tell briefly of Montenegro's past. It is indeed a key to many of the Near Eastern problems, for here in little, we see the century-old "pull devil-pull baker" tug between Austria and Russia, Teuton and Slav, for dominion. In 1900, Montenegro, which was about the size of Yorkshire, consisted of some thirty plemena or tribes. A small core, mainly Cetinaajes, Nyegushi, Rijeka and Kchevo formed old Montenegro. To this was added the Brda group, which joined Montenegro voluntarily in the eighteenth century, in order to fight against the Turks. These are mainly of Albanian blood and were all Roman Catholics at the time of their annexation, but have since been converted to the Orthodox Church and Slavized. It is noteworthy that they are now strenuously resisting annexation by Serbia. Thirdly, came the extensive lands, some of them wholly Albanian, annexed to Montenegro in 1878 under the Treaty of Berlin, much of which, in spite of the efforts of the Montenegrin Government, is by no means Slavized. Certain other small districts have also from time to time been joined to Montenegro at different times, e.g. Grahovo. Each of the Montenegrin tribes has a distinct tradition of origin from an individual or family. They tell almost invariably of immigration into their present site in the fifteenth or sixteenth century. Thus Nyegushi in 1905 told me of descent from two brothers Jerak and Raiko, who fled from Nyegushi in the Herzegovina fourteen generations ago. The Royal family, the Petrovitches, traces descent from Jerak. If we take thirty years as a generation this gives us 1485. The Turks had then begun to overrun Bosnia and the Herzegovina. Ivan Tsrnoievitch, chief of the tribes of the Zeta, was so hard pressed by the oncoming Turks that he burnt his capital of Zhablyak and withdrew to the mountains, where he founded Cetinje in 1484. Tradition thus corresponds closely with historic fact. The strength of Turkish influence is shown by the fact that even to-day the peasant speaks of Ivan as Ivan Beg. The oft-repeated tale that Montenegro was founded by the refugees from Kosovo is thus we see mythical, as Kosovo was fought a century earlier in 1389. Lineally, the Montenegrins are Bosnians, Herzegovinians and Albanians rather than Serbs of Serbia. Bosnia and the Herzegovina were independent of the old Kingdom of Serbia, which explains much of the reluctance of Montenegro to be to-day incorporated by the Serbs. Ivan and his refugee tribes successfully resisted the Turkish attacks on their stronghold and were helped by Venice. But conversions to Islam became frequent. One of Ivan's own sons turned Turk and fought against Montenegro. Finally, the last of the Trsnoievitch line, Ivan II, who had married a Venetian wife, decided that the leadership of a band of outlaws in the poverty-stricken mountains was not good enough. He retired to the fleshpots of Venice, trusting the defence of the district to a civil, hereditary leader and charging the Vladika [Bishop] with the duty of preventing ore of his flock going over to Islam, as the Serbs of Bosnia were now doing in great numbers. It has been inaccurately represented that Montenegro was singular in being ruled by her Bishop. In this respect Montenegro in no way differed from other Christian districts ruled by the Turks who, with a tolerance at that date rare, recognized everywhere the religion of the country and entrusted all the affairs of the Christians to their own ecclesiastics. To the Turks, the Montenegrin tribes and the Albanian tribes of the mountains--who had also their own Bishops --were but insubordinate tribes against whom they sent punitive expeditions when taxes were in arrears and raids became intolerable. The Montenegrins descended from their natural fortress and plundered the fat flocks of the plain lands. They existed mainly by brigandage as their sheep-stealing ballads tell, and the history of raid and punitive expedition is much like that of our Indian frontier. Till 1696 the Vladikas were chosen according to the usual methods of the Orthodox Church. After that date they were, with one exception, members of the Petrovitch family. This has been vaguely accounted for by saying that to prevent quarrels the Montenegrins decided to make the post hereditary in the Petrovitch family. As the Vladika was celibate, his successor had to be chosen from among members of his family. Later events, however, throw much light on this alleged interference with the rules of the Orthodox Church. In June, 1696, Danilo Petrovitch, of Nyegushi, who, be it noted, was already in holy orders, was chosen as Vladika. A man of well-known courage such as the country needed, he accepted office, but was not consecrated till 1700. Till then the Vladikas of Montenegro had been consecrated by the Serb Patriarch at Ipek. But in 1680 Arsenius the Patriarch had decided to accept the protection of Austria and emigrated to Karlovatz with most of his flock. The turns of fortune's wheel are odd. The Serbs have more than once owed almost their existence to Austrian intervention. The Turks permitted the appointment of another Serb Patriarch, but Serb influence in the district waned rapidly and the Albanians rapidly resettled the lands from which their forefathers had been evicted. In 1769 the Phanariotes suppressed the Serb Patriarchate altogether, for the Greek was ever greedy of spreading over the whole peninsula, and the Vladika of Montenegro was thus the only head of a Serb Church in the Balkans and gained much in importance. Danilo was a born ruler. He soon absorbed all the temporal power, and latterly left matters ecclesiastic to his nephew Sava. The outstanding feature of his rule was his suppression of Mahommedanism. At this time conversions to Islam were increasing. Danilo, when on a visit to the plain of Podgoritza, to consecrate a small church by permission of the Pasha of Scutari, was taken prisoner by the local Moslems, though he had been promised safe conduct, and put up to ransom. He was bought off only by the sacrifice of the church plate of the monastery, and returned home hot with anger. To avenge the insult and clear the land of Islam he organized the wholesale massacre of the Moslems of Montenegro. On Christmas Eve 1703 an armed band, led by the Martinovitches, rushed from house to house slaughtering all who refused baptism. Next morning the murderers came to the church, says the song: "Their arms were bloody to the shoulders." Danilo, flushed with joy, cried: "Dear God we thank Thee for all things!" A thanksgiving was held and a feast followed. Danilo thus gained extraordinary popularity. Such is the fame of his Christmas Eve that it was enthusiastically quoted to me in the Balkan War of 1912-13 as an example to be followed, and baptisms were enforced with hideous cruelty. The Balkan Christian of to-day is no whit less cruel than the Turk and is more fanatical. Danilo's prestige after this massacre was so great that the tribes of the Brda formed a defensive alliance with him against the Turks. And his fame flew further, for Russia, now for the first time, appeared in Montenegro. Peter the Great sent his Envoy Miloradovitch to Cetinje in 1711--a date of very great importance, for from it begins modern Balkan policy and the power of the Petrovitches. Peter claimed the Montenegrins as of one blood and one faith with Russia and called on them to fight the Turk and meet him at Constantinople where they would together "glorify the Slav name; destroy the brood of the Agas and build up temples to the true faith." The Montenegrins rushed to the fray with wild enthusiasm and on the high ground between Rijeka and Podgoritza won the battle called "The Field of the Sultan's Felling," such was the number of Turks who, entangled in the thorn bushes, were slaughtered wholesale, as the Montenegrin driver recounts to this day when he passes the spot. A great victory--but Russia and Montenegro have not yet met at Constantinople. The Turks sent a strong punitive force and, not for the first time, burnt the monastery at Cetinje, wasted the land and doubtless removed enough gear to pay the haratch [tax] which Danilo had refused. 1715 is noteworthy as the date of Danilo's visit to Petersburg, when he was given the first of the many subsidies which the Tsars have bestowed till recently upon the Petrovitch family. In a land which is rat-poor, the family which has wealth has power. The Petrovitches had gained power and they kept it. Fighting almost till the last, Danilo died full of years and fame, in 1735, and named his nephew Sava, who had acted for some time as ecclesiastical head, as his successor. Sava had no ambition to be aught but a Churchman. He built the monastery of Stanjevitch and retired to it, leaving his nephew Vassili to govern. Vassili, who was already in holy orders, had much of the quality of Danilo. He organized the defence of the land and defeated more than one attack upon it. Montenegro was now largely fighting against the Moslem Serbs of Bosnia and the Herzegovina. In fact the "Turk" with whom the Balkan Christian waged war was as often as not his compatriot, turned Moslem. Vassili and Sava further strengthened their alliance with Russia by visiting Petersburg, where the Empress Elizabeth promised them a yearly subsidy of 3,000 roubles and money for schools. Vassili died in Russia in 1766 and Sava was left to manage alone. He was quite unfit and his post was usurped by a remarkable imposter who appeared suddenly in Montenegro and said he was Peter III of Russia, who had been murdered in 1706. Russia was a name to conjure with. He thrilled the credulous tribesmen with tales of his escape and adventures. In the words of an old ballad: "He is known as Stefan the Little. The nation turns to him as a child to its father. They have dismissed their headmen, their Serdars, Knezhes and Voyvodas. All eyes turn to him and hail him as Tsar." Sava returned to his monastery and the imposter reigned. Even the Patriarch of Ipek who was on the verge of dismissal, cried for the protection of Stefan Mali, who set to work to govern with great energy. Venice, alarmed by his popularity, joined with the Turks and attacked Montenegro, but was repulsed. Russia, seeing her influence waning with the departed Sava, sent an Envoy to denounce the impostor. But "nothing succeeds like success." Stefan Mali had such a hold over the ignorant tribesmen that Russia, seeing Sava was useless, recognized Stefan as ruler. He reigned five more years and was murdered in 1774 by, it was said, an agent of the Pasha of Scutari. He is believed to have been of humble Bosnia origin and was one of the few successful impostors of history. Sava had perforce to return to the world, and owing to his incapacity the post of Civil Governor of Montenegro now became important. The office, till now held always by a Vukotitch, had meant little save the leadership of tribal Soviets or councils. The Vukotitches exchanged the office with the Radonitches for that of Serdar, and under the title of Gubernator the first Radonitch rose to power. This is a very important period for now for the first time Austria appears on the scene and the long diplomatic struggle with Russia for power in Montenegro begins. In 1779 an appeal to the Emperor of Austria was sent, signed by Ivan Radonitch, Gubernator; Ivan Petrovitch, Serdar; and lastly by Petar Petrovitch, Archimandrite and Deputy-Metropolitan. From which we must conclude that Sava had definitely retired from power. From this date for several years Ivan Radonitch always signed first. He had just returned from a fruitless trip to Russia, and was seeking help from Austria. Sava died in 1783 and was succeeded by Vladika Plamenatz, a fact which, though well known in Montenegro, is rigidly excluded from her official history by the Petrovitches, whose version, the only "authorized" one, is constructed with more regard to the glory of their dynasty than historic truth. On Sava's death the Radonitch party at once welcomed the first Austrian Mission to Montenegro and accommodated it in Sava's monastery. One of the Envoys has left a vivid picture of Montenegro in those days. "The nation has no police, no laws. A kind of equality reigns. The headmen have only a certain authority for managing ordinary business and settling blood-feuds. The father of Radonitch was the first to whom the nation gave the title Gubernator in order to gain the respect of the Venetians and Turks. The Gubernator summons the Serdars, Voyvodas and Knezhes. They meet in the open air. The General Assembly takes place at the village of Cetinje. . . . The Vladika, or at least a couple of monks, are present. The Serdars similarly call local meetings of headmen and thus arrange peace between two families or villages. Their power consists only of persuasion. In practice murder is usually avenged by murder. The land has one Metropolitan, the Vladika, in whose eparchy are included Ipek, Kroja and Dalmatia spiritually, for the consecration of priests, he being, since the removal of the Patriarch of Ipek, the next Archbishop. But the foreign priests obey him in no respect save for consecration. His functions consist in the consecration of priests and churches. He visits the parishes but not so much for pastoral duties as for the collection of the so-called Milostina, the alms which form his payment. The monks too collect on their own behalf. The people who are very superstitious, fast rigorously and give willingly to the clergy. Their terror of excommunication makes them regard their Bishops as the highest and most respected in the land. Radonitch's father, first Gubernator, tried to obtain the highest position for himself but failed. His son now tries to, and would succeed, were he cleverer and had more money, for the Metropolitan Plamenatz is little respected and could not do much to prevent him. The Metropolitans have been used to visit Petersburg from time to time and to receive a subsidy for the Church and gifts in money and in the form of costly vestments for themselves. From which gifts, say the people, they receive no benefit. Since 1779 no Russian money has been received. The feelings of the country have consequently grown cold. People here obey only so long as they gain by so doing." We now come upon the first notice of the development of the Great Serbian Idea, as a definite political plan in Montenegro. The Austrian Envoy writes: "The following which was told me by a Montenegrin monk is worthy of further consideration. A little while after the Russian war was ended in 1773 a plan was made by the Metropolitan and some monks to reconstruct the old Serbian Kingdom and to include in it besides Bulgaria, Serbia, Upper Albania, Dalmatia and Bosnia, also the Banat of Karlstadt and Slavonia. The Turks in all the provinces were to be fallen upon at a given moment by the Schismatics, and it was also resolved that all foreign officers should be cleared out of all lands within the Imperial frontiers. The late Orthodox Bishop Jaksitch of Karlstadt is said to have agreed and carried on a correspondence with the Metropolitan of Montenegro by means of priests. . . . Though the carrying out of such a plan is very difficult, yet the project should not be left out of consideration." The Petrovitch ambition to form and rule over Great Serbia was thus, we see, actually elaborated long before Serbia had obtained independence and before the Karageorgevitches had even been heard of. This explains much that has since happened. Further the Envoy replies to the question: Whether or not Montenegro can be considered independent?--thus: "From the frontier drawn by the Venetians with the Turks it follows that Montenegro belongs to the Turks. The nation does not deny that it has been twice conquered by the Turks, who, each time, destroyed Cetinje and the Monastery, where some Turks even settled, but were driven out. In 1768 they were forced to pay tribute by the Vezir of Bosnia. The Montenegrins on the plains, in fact, pay tribute. The Katunska and Rijeka nahias alone have paid no tribute since 1768. These facts show Montenegro belongs to the Porte. "The Montenegrins on the contrary maintain that they have never recognized Turkish rule, and never paid tribute save when forced by overpowering numbers; that they do not recognize the assigning of their nahias to the Pashas of Spuzh and Scutari; that they have chosen a Gubernator whose title has not been disputed; that they rule themselves without Turkish interference. In truth, however, the apparent independence of the land depends as much on its mountainous character as on the courage of the inhabitants. The difficulties of the land make it more trouble than it is worth." The country is described as completely lawless. Blood feuds rage between rival families and in seven months a hundred men have been killed in vengeance. Over this wild group of tribes Russia and Austria now struggled for influence. In 1782 Ivan Radonitch went for seven months to Vienna. Montenegro could not (and cannot) possibly exist without foreign aid. And he sought it. But the Emperor Joseph II decided that to organize Montenegro as an Ally "would, in peace, be costly and in war of insufficient use." He withdrew the Mission but, to retain Montenegro's goodwill, allotted a small annual subsidy of which 500 ducats were to go to Radonitch, and but 150 to Vladika Plamenatz. Russia, however, would not let Montenegro slip from her grasp. In May, 1788, a Russian Envoy arrived and began countermining Austria. Austria retorted by sending another Envoy, who reports complete anarchy and ceaseless inter-tribal fighting: "Some were with us; some sought to destroy us; some fought the Turks; some were in alliance with them. They have a Bishop, Governor and Serdar, but these are mere names. People obey only if they can gain by so doing. We even heard a common man say to the Bishop's face: 'Holy Bishop, you lie like a hound! I will cut out your heart on the point of my knife.' Except that they keep the fasts they have no religion. They rob, steal, and have many wives. Some sell women and girls to the Turks and commit other crimes as one hears daily. All is done with the animal impulse of desire, or hatred, or selfishness. The inhabitants are used to raid neighbourlands for cattle, etc., and are even led by their priests on these expeditions which they think heroic." This vivid account will be recognized as the truth by all who have lived in native huts and listened to local tradition. It describes the life of the Balkan Christian up till recent days. My Montenegrin guide used to lament the good old times when a second wife could be taken and no fuss made; and when as many as fifteen men were shot in a feud; and his great uncle had commanded a pirate ship which plied between the Adriatic and the Aegean. There is nothing new under the sun. In 1788, as in the twentieth century, we find the rival Powers trying to buy partisans. "We never could satisfy them," says the Austrian Envoy. "When we thought we had won him with one gift, we found next day he had joined the opposition party or demanded a new gift as if he had not had one. Even the Bishop, though he tried by all means to win our favour, could not hide from us his false intriguing heart." The struggle was brief. Russia was victorious. Vladika Plamenatz disappeared suddenly, and the Petrovitches came again to the fore. Vladika Petar's name headed all official documents, the Gubernator fell to second rank, and the blood-feud between the Plamenatzes and the Petrovitches compelled some of the former to seek shelter with the Turks. Russia has never permitted a pro-Austrian to rule long in Slav lands. Witness the-fate of the Obrenovitches, in Serbia. Vladika Petar was a strong man, which is probably why he obtained Russian support. He drove his unruly team with much success and won its respect. Russia and Austria came to one of their many "understandings" and in 1788 declared war together on the Turk with the expressed intention of ending the Sultan's rule. Both encouraged the Montenegrins to harry the Turkish borders. The Austrian Envoy, however, distrusted the Montenegrins and wrote: "Very much more can we rely on the faith and courage of the Catholic Albanians of the Brda, the very numerous Bijelopavlitchi, Piperi, Kuchi, Vasojevitchi, Klementi, Hoti, etc., who could muster 20,000 very outrageous fighters whom the Sultan fears more than he does the Montenegrins." A passage of great interest, for to-day many of these Albanian tribes, having fallen under Montenegrin rule, have been completely Slavized and have 'joined the Orthodox Church. Some of these tribes did support Austria, were left in the lurch by her when she made peace in 1791, and were punished by the Turks. Part of the Klementi dared not return home and settled in Hungary, where their descendants still live. Montenegro was mentioned in the Treaty of Sistova merely as a rebellious Turkish province, but Vladika Petar had gained much power, for the Brda tribes now definitely accepted him as their head and the Tsutsi and Bijelitch tribes emigrated into Montenegro from the Herzegovina and were given land. The Turks forcibly opposed the union of the Brda with Montenegro, but could not prevent it, and in the fight the Pasha of Scutari was killed. His head, on a stake, for long adorned the tower at Cetinje. A hard blow was now struck at Montenegro. The Venetians in 1797 ceded the Bocche di Cattaro to Austria. Till then the frontier had been vague. The Vladika was spiritual head of the Bocchese and the Montenegrins considered them as part of themselves. The new frontier caused much wrath. Russia hurried to support the Vladika. Austria strove in vain for influence. Her Envoy wrote in 1798, "The Gubernator sees his authority daily weakening while that of the Vladika increases." He says the frontier must be fixed "so as to force this horde of brigands to remain within the frontiers which they cross only to molest his Majesty's subjects and make them victims of brigandage. The Metropolitan and the Gubernator have given no satisfaction to the complaints daily addressed to them." No. They did not. For they had a strong backing. Up hurried a special Envoy of the Tsar with rich gifts for the Vladika, who received him with a salute of guns, and further insulted Austria by hoisting the Russian flag over the Monastery. "Devil and Baker" had both pulled. Which won? I leave that to the reader. Russia was now ruling power in Montenegro. When Napoleon's troops appeared in the Near East the Montenegrins joined the Russian forces and attacked the French at Ragusa where their ferocity horrified even the hardened soldiers of Napoleon. A Ragusan gave me her grandfather's account of the yelling horde of savage mountaineers who rushed into battle with the decapitated heads of their foes dangling from their necks and belts, sparing no one, pillaging and destroying, and enraging the Russian officers by rushing home so soon as they had secured booty worth carrying off. In considering the Near East of to-day it should never be forgotten that but a century ago much of the population was as wild as the Red Indians of the same date. The French held the Bocche di Cattaro some years during which the Vladika, as Russia's ally, flatly refused to come to terms with them. And in 1813, so soon as Napoleon's defeat became known Vladika Petar and Vuko Radonitch, the new Gubernator, summoned the tribesmen, swooped down on Cattaro, stormed the Trinity fort and captured Budua. A short-lived triumph. Russia, wishing peace with Austria and having no further use for Montenegro, ordered the Vladika to yield his newly conquered lands and they were formally allotted to Austria by Treaty. During these years the resurrection of Serbia was taking place. In this Montenegro was unable to take active part, being more than enough occupied with her own affairs. But the Vladika himself sang Karageorge's heroism and tried to send a force to his aid. Vladika Petar I died in 1830. He left Montenegro larger and stronger than he found it, for he had worked hard to unite the ever-quarrelling tribes by establishing laws to suppress blood-feuds. Inability to cohere is ever the curse of Slav lands. Only a strong autocrat has as yet welded them. Petar earned the fame he bears in the land. His body is to this day deeply reverenced by the superstitious mountaineers. Some years after burial it was found to have been miraculously preserved from decay and he was thereupon canonized under the name of St. Petar Cetinski. When dying he nominated as his successor his nephew Rada, then a lad not yet in holy orders, and made his chiefs swear to support him. Such an irregular proceeding as appointing a youth of seventeen to an Archbishopric could hardly have been carried out, even in the Balkans, had it not been for the terror of a dead man's curse--a thing still dreaded in the land. And also for the fact that Rada's election had the support too of Vuko Radonitch the Gubernator. Vuko hoped doubtless to obtain the upper hand over such a young rival. Rada, with no further training, was at once consecrated as Vladika Petar II by the Bishop of Prizren and this strange consecration was confirmed later at Petersburg, whither the young Petrovitch duly went. Russia has all along consistently furthered her influence and plans in the Balkans by planting suitable Bishops as political agents. Russia was now powerful in Montenegro. A Russian officer led the clans a-raiding into Turkey and returned with so many decapitated heads to adorn Cetinje, that the Tsar thought fit to protest. The tug between Austria and Russia continued. Vuko, the Gubernator, and his party, finding the youthful Archbishop taking the upper hand with Russian aid, entered into negotiations with Austria. The plot was, however, detected. Vuko fled to Austria. His brother was assassinated; the family house at Nyegushi was burnt down and the family exiled. Russia would tolerate no influence but her own and had begun in fact the same policy she afterwards developed in Serbia. From that date--1832--the office of Gubernator was abolished. Imitation is the sincerest flattery. The Petrovitches began to model themselves on their patrons, the Tsars, and strove for absolutism. Petar II ranks high as author and poet. He further organized the laws against the blood-feuds which were sapping the strength of the nation and ingeniously ordered a murderer to be shot by a party made up of one man from each tribe. As the relatives of the dead man could not possibly avenge themselves on every tribe in the land the murder-sequence had perforce to end. To reconcile public opinion to this form of punishment he permitted the condemned man to run for his life. If the firing party missed him, he was pardoned. The point gained was that the murder became the affair of the central government, not of the local one. Petar also did much to start education in the land. He died before he was forty of tuberculosis, in 1851, one of the early victims of the disease which shortly afterwards began to ravage Montenegro and has killed many Petrovitches. He named as his successor his nephew Danilo. Danilo's accession is a turning point in Montenegrin history. He at once stated that he did not wish to enter holy orders and would accept temporal power only. He was, in fact, about to marry a lady who was an Austrian Slav. For this, the consent of Russia had to be obtained, for till now it was through the Church that Russia had ruled in Montenegro. She had ever--with the sole exception of the usurper Stefan Mali--supported the Vladika against the Gubernator. This office was, however, now abolished. There had been difficulty more than once about transmitting the ruling power from uncle to nephew. Russia decided that she could obtain a yet firmer hold of the land if she established a directly hereditary dynasty. Danilo was proclaimed Prince and ecclesiastical affairs alone were to be administered by the Bishop. The Sultan who had accepted the rule of the Bishop in Montenegro as in other Christian districts, protested against the recognition of an hereditary Prince and at once attacked Montenegro, which was saved by the diplomatic intervention of both Russia and Austria, neither of whom wished its destruction. Peace was made and Danilo formally recognized. He was never popular. He had received his title from Russia, but his sympathies leaned towards Austria. And he offended both Russia and his Montenegrins by refusing to take part in the Crimean war, to the wrath of the tribes who saw in it a fine opportunity for harrying their foes of the border. Attempts to enforce law and order provoked hostility among the recently annexed tribes of the Brda who, though they had voluntarily joined Montenegro as opposed to the Turks, refused flatly to pay taxes. Danilo put down this rising with great severity and gained the hatred of the revolted tribes. But even with enforced taxation Danilo was short of funds. Russia, angry at his failure to aid her, stood aside. Danilo begged of Austria and Austria refused. Montenegro could not and cannot live without foreign support. The French--now so active again in Balkan intrigue--came in and tried to detach Danilo from their then enemy Russia, by offering him a subsidy and certain concessions from the Sultan if he would accept Turkish suzerainty. There ensued a quarrel between the Russian agent in Cetinje, B. M. Medakovitch, and Danilo over this. Medakovitch was Danilo's private secretary. "I lived in friendship and harmony with Prince Danilo," he says, "until he said to me, 'I know you wish the Montenegrins well and highly value their liberty. But it cannot be as you wish. We must recognize the Turks in order to obtain more money.' We might have remained friends but foreign intrigues crept in. ... Enemies of our faith and name denounced me as the "friend" of Russia. My faith and blood are dear to me. But I have always kept in view the good of the nation and followed the course which ever led to the fortune of Montenegro. ... I would not agree that Montenegro's glory should be denied in accordance with the wishes of the French Consul at Scutari, who in especial is trying to destroy the power of Montenegro." (History repeats itself. The French now, 1920, are aiming at Montenegro's destruction.) "I opposed Turkish rule . . . but the headmen sided with Prince Danilo and favoured the wish of the French Consul. They were ready to accept the Turk as lord. Only I and Prince George Petrovitch opposed them." The quarrel was heightened by the fact that Tsar Nikola I, when he died in 1855, bequeathed 5,000 ducats to Montenegro, but stipulated they were to be used for charitable purposes under Russian control. Danilo was enraged by this as he wanted the cash himself. Medakovitch refused to give it him. "He regards as his friend him who gives him gold," says a contemporary; "who gives naught is his arch-enemy." Danilo continued negotiating with France, and Medakovitch carried the 5,000 ducats out of the country to the Russian Consul-General at Ragusa. Danilo formed a crafty plan. He sent two cunning agents to Ragusa to pretend to the Russian that Montenegro was in a state of unrest, and that they could overthrow Danilo and re-establish Russian influence if they could have the 5,000 ducats. To what more laudable end could they be expended? But the Russian was a yet more wily fox and the plan failed. Danilo then hurried to Paris to discuss matters and while he was absent George Petrovitch led a rising against him, instigated doubtless by Medakovitch. Danilo hastily returned to Montenegro and according to a contemporary account a reign of terror followed. He feared every popular man: "Thus it is that a series of executions without trial or formal accusation has gone on for months without it being possible to see when this terrible state of things will end. Persons who to-day are the Prince's favourites are to-morrow corpses. His commands, his threats and his gold obtain for him false oaths and false documents." A fierce blood-feud which lasted in effect till a few years ago, arose between him and the Gjurashkovitches. Marko Gjurashkovitch, one of the richest and handsomest of the headmen, dared, during the Prince's absence in France, to marry the widow of Pero Petrovitch, whom Danilo had meant to bestow on his favourite Petar Vukotitch. Danilo therefore bribed heavily Gligor Milanovitch the arambasha of a brigand band, who accused Marko Gjurashkovitch and another of a treasonable plot against Danilo's life. The two were at once arrested and executed in spite of their protestations of innocence. The Gjurashkovitches fled into Turkish territory where the two still held official posts under the Turkish Government till 1912. Danilo found his scheme for accepting Turkish suzerainty now so unpopular that he dropped it and the Turks consequently at once attacked Montenegro. The land was saved by the valour of Danilo's brother, Grand Voyvoda Mirko, whose exploits are still sung by the peasants. A great battle was fought at Grahovo. The retreat of the Turkish army was cut off and the whole was slaughtered or captured. The prisoners, according to Montenegrin custom, were hideously mutilated and the British report of them as they passed Corfu on their return struck horror in Europe. By this victory Montenegro gained more land, but owed it to the valour of Mirko rather than to Danilo. Danilo's best work was the codification and reformation of the unwritten law of the land. Code Danilo is rude enough, but an advance upon the laws of Vladika Petar. It was printed in Italian as well as Serb. Italian, till the beginning of the present century, was the only foreign tongue that had made any way in Montenegro. When Danilo had refused the spiritual headship of the land and had chosen marriage, the superstitious foretold that no good would come of this and that no heir of his body would succeed him. The prophecy came true. He was assassinated in the summer of 1860 on the shore of the Bocche di Cattaro, and left but two daughters. The assassin, a Montenegrin, was arrested and executed and died without giving any explanation of his deed. It has been ascribed both to Austria and Russia--but was far more probably an act of private vengeance. Danilo was succeeded by Nikola I the present King of Montenegro, son of Voyvoda Mirko. Two main points stand clear from this brief sketch. (1) That the history of Montenegro, as that of all the Balkan peoples, is but a part of the gigantic racial struggle of Slav and Teuton for command of the Near East. The Slav ever pressing Southward and Westward, the Teuton standing as a bulwark for West Europe and holding back the advancing hordes. The one non-Slavonic lace in this group, the Albanian (with the exception of a few Catholic tribes) consistently struggles also against the Slav peril and sides with its opponents. (2) It is also markedly a struggle for the supremacy of the Orthodox Church. For with the exception of Montenegro's fights against the armies of the Pasha of Scutari and his Albanians, the enemy of Montenegro was always the Moslem Serbs of Bosnia and the Herzegovina, people, that is, who racially and linguistically and by custom are identical with the Montenegrins. Montenegro's history continued on precisely the same lines under Nikola I, until Slavonic and Teutonic rivalry culminated in the colossal struggle which began in August 1914. Of all the Petrovitches Nikola is one of the most remarkable. The last of the mediaeval chieftains of Europe--a survival from a past age--he is an epitome of the good and bad qualities of his race. In common with that of other half-wild races the Montenegrin mind is credulous and child-like and at the same time crafty and cunning. With a very limited outlook, the Balkan politician is wont to spend infinite ingenuity in outwitting a rival in order to gain some petty advantage, and meanwhile to lose sight entirely of the larger issues. Prince Nikola, better equipped by a western education than any of his forerunners, rapidly gained a strong hold over his ignorant subjects and in the great game of Near Eastern politics was second only to Abdul Hamid at ruse and intrigue. From the very first he had but one ambition--the reconstruction of the Great Serbian Empire with the Petrovitches as the reigning dynasty. He lived for it and he did all possible to foster it in the minds of his people. He enforced the wearing of the national cap, invented by Vladika Petar II. Each child was taught that his cap's red crown was blood that had to be avenged. For each tribe he wrote a Kolo song to be danced to at festive gatherings, to stimulate nationalism. And for the whole country he wrote that most popular national song: Onward, onward, let me see Prizren, For it is mine--I shall come to my home! The throne and the castle of Tsar Dushan at Prizren became a national obsession. And to ensure the obedience of the Soviet of headmen he appointed his redoubtable father Voyvoda Mirko as President and chose the members himself. He was but nineteen at the time of his accession and married almost at once, Milena, daughter of Voyvoda Vukotitch of the fighting tribe of Kchevo, to whom he had been affianced in childhood, as was then customary. Their reign began stormily. The Turks thirsting to avenge Grahovo attacked Montenegro on three sides. Voyvoda Mirko led his son's forces and the Montenegrins defended themselves desperately, but were so severely outnumbered that only the intervention of the Powers saved them. So much was Mirko dreaded that the Turks made it one of their peace terms that he must leave the country. This term was, however,' not fulfilled and the sturdy old savage remained in Montenegro till the day of his death, steadily opposing all western and modern ideas, especially the making of a carriage road into the country; and ever composing and singing to the gusle songs of battle and border fray, which, though devoid of literary merit, give an invaluable picture of the savagery of the land in the middle of the nineteenth century. Old Mirko died of the great cholera epidemic which swept Montenegro, and Prince Nikola was then free to introduce new visages into the land. Balanced perilously between Austria and Russia he managed to keep on good terms with both, but his sympathies were Russian. To Russia he turned for help to organize an army. Till then each tribe had fought according to its own ideas. Montenegro had no artillery and no equipment save flintlocks and the hand jar, the heavy knife used for decapitation. In Petersburg he was warmly received by Tsar Alexander II, who gave him funds both for schools and the army. A small-arms factory was started at Rijeka and a gun foundry near Cetinje. Weapons were bought from France and preparations made for the next campaign. You cannot talk to King Nikola long without learning that war, successful war, filled all his mind. Conquest and Great Serbia were the stars of his heaven and of that of his people. Border frays enough took place and when, in 1875, the Herzegovinians broke into open revolt the Montenegrins rushed to their aid. Nikola, commanded by the Powers to keep the peace, declared he could not restrain the tribesmen. Local tradition which is possibly correct states that his efforts to do so were not strenuous. In June 1876 Prince Milan of Serbia declared war on Turkey. Prince Nikola, who had already refused to acknowledge Milan as leader of the Serb peoples and regarded him with jealous eyes, thereupon declared war next day. The Great Serbian Idea was already causing rivalry. Nikola fought and won his first battle at Vuchidol. Montenegrin arms were successful everywhere--penetrated far into the Herzegovina; took Podgoritza, Nikshitch and Antivari. When the victorious Russians drew up the Treaty of San Stefano at the very gates of Constantinople Prince Nikola, "the Tsar's only friend," received liberal treatment, and Serbia, suspected of Austrian leanings, but scant recognition. The Treaty of Berlin reversed this. England was especially anti-Russian and, represented by Lord Beaconsfield and Lord Salisbury, insisted on entrusting the bulk of Montenegro's conquests in the Herzegovina to Austrian administration. "The Tsar's only friend" was regarded with suspicion. Montenegro was unfortunately compensated mainly with Albanian territory. It was a great injustice. The Albanians had made just as stubborn a fight for their nationality as had the Montenegrins, and had never lost local autonomy. They resisted violently and prevented Montenegro from occupying either Plava, Gusinje or Tuzi. The Powers tried to make up by an even worse act of injustice. Mr. Gladstone, having little or no personal experience of the Orthodox Church, was possessed of an extraordinary admiration for it, and, filled with the erroneous idea that every Moslem was a Turk, he was in favour of giving Dulcigno, a wholly Albanian town, to Montenegro in place of the other three. It was a peculiarly unjust and cruel decision. Even in the days of the Serb Kings Dulcigno had kept its autonomy and at one time coined its own money. All old travellers state the spoken language was Albanian. The Montenegrins could not take it and had no claim to it. A naval demonstration of the Powers forced it to surrender, perhaps one of the biggest acts of bullying of which the Powers have as yet been guilty. Albanian Dulcigno was handed over to its hereditary foe. The strength of its purely Albanian nature is shown by the fact that whereas in Nikshitch, Podgoritza, and Spuzh the Moslems, Serbs and Albanians, were stripped of all their property and expelled wholesale to starve as very many did--the Montenegrins did not dare interfere with the large and hostile population of Dulcigno and have in no way succeeded in Slavizing it: The Dulcigniotes still ask for re-union with Albania. Montenegro was recognized by the Treaty of Berlin for the first time as an independent Principality, and Serbia, in 1880, was raised to a Kingdom. To Prince Nikola and his Montenegrins who had refused to recognize Prince Milan as leader of the Serb nation this was a most bitter pill. Rivalry between the two branches of the Serb race was intensified. Prince Nikola strove by a remarkable series of marriages to unite himself to any and all of the Powers by means of his numerous offspring. Russia being his "only friend" he aspired to marry one of his elder daughters to the Tsarivitch. But the poor girl who was being educated for the purpose in Russia, died young. Two other daughters he however successfully married to the Grand Duke Nikola Nikolaievitch and the Grand Duke Peter. With Great Serbia in view, and on bad terms with the Obrenovitches of Serbia, he married his daughter Zorka in 1883 to Petar Karageorgevitch, the exiled claimant to the Serbian throne. Having thus married his elder children to Russian and Serb he then turned to the Triple Alliance and married Helena to the Crown Prince of Italy, thus securing an ally, as he hoped, across the Adriatic; and his heir Prince Danilo to the daughter of the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg Strelitz. For his daughter Anna he selected Prince Joseph Battenburg. "How do you think this young man will do as Prince of Macedonia?" he once cheerfully asked Mr. Bouchier, to Prince Joseph's embarrassment. Lastly, in order to have claim on Serbia whichever way the political cat hopped, he married Prince Mirko to Natalie Constantinovitch, cousin to Alexander Obrenovitch of Serbia. All that Prince Nikola could do to conquer Europe by "peaceful penetration" he certainly did. Two daughters remained: Princesses Xenia and Vera. Popular report had it that one was destined for Bulgaria and the other for Greece, and there was much disappointment when the Princes of those lands made other choice. Nor I fear are either ladies likely now to mount thrones. One error of judgment which has largely helped to thwart Prince Nikola's hopes is the fact that, alarmed lest foreign luxury should make his sons discontented with their stony fatherland, he would not send them abroad to be educated. They were taught at home by a tutor who was an able man enough, but the future ruler of even a tiny realm needs a wider experience and training. He further made the fatal mistake of bringing them up as Princes apart from the people, whereas he himself had played with village children. As a result they grew up with exaggerated ideas of their own importance, devoid of discipline and ignorant of all things most needful for a successful ruler in a poor land. They had all the vices of Princes and none of their virtues. It was a tragic error with tragic consequences. Nikola came to the throne as a mediaeval chieftain in a yet mediaeval land. To succeed in his ambitions, and he was then amply justified in believing that he would succeed, it was needful to train up a successor fit to rule in the twentieth century. The gates of time were of a sudden flung open. In the space of a few years something like five centuries poured over the land. Nikola stood on the rocks with his sons hoping to escape the devastating torrent. But there was no way of escape. They must swim with the stream of time--or drown. Nor does it now seem likely that one of his immediate descendants will ever rule Great Serbia. They failed to take the "tide in the affairs of men" and their golden dream has been swept, into the Never-Never Land. It is bitter tragedy to end life as a failure. CHAPTER THREE. FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF LAND AND PEOPLE In 1901 I visited Montenegro and went down the lake to Scutari. Scutari captured me at once. It had colour, life, art. Its people were friendly and industrious and did not spend all their time drinking rakia and swaggering up and down the street as at Cetinje. There was something very human about them and of all things I wanted to go into the Albanian mountains. But our Consul there was but just arrived. He consulted his Austrian colleague and as Austria was then keeping the mountains as its own preserve, he replied, emphatically, that the journey was impossible for me. No particular political crisis was happening, but there were rumours of a certain Kastrioti in Paris who claimed descent from the great Skenderbeg and his possible arrival as Prince of Albania roused a certain excitement in Albanian breasts. Hopes of independence were already spoken of in hushed whispers. In Montenegro Great Serbia was the talk, and I was shewn crude prints of the heroes of old, on many a cottage wall. And some flashlights on Montenegrin character showed vividly the different mentality of the Balkans. The new British Vice-Consul for Scutari came up to Cetinje on business, for the British Minister had left owing to ill-health. The Montenegrins did not like the new Vice-Consul and seriously consulted me as to the possibility of having him exchanged for another. I was extremely surprised. "But why do you not like him?" I asked. "Because he does not like us," was the confident reply. "But he has only been here a week," I urged. "How can he know yet whether he likes you or not? In any case what does it matter. It is not necessary to like a Consul." "But yes!" came the horrified reply. "How is it not necessary? One must either love or hate!" One must either love or hate. There is no medium. It was Dushan Gregovitch that spoke. Lazar Mioushkovitch flashed the next beam on the national character. Some tourists arrived and, at the lunch table, talked with Lazar. One was a clergyman. He told how Canon McColl during the Turko-Russian War of 1877 had reported having seen severed heads on poles, and how all England, including Punch, had jeered at him for thinking such a thing possible in Europe in the nineteenth century. Mioushkovitch was sadly puzzled. "But how, I ask you, could he fail to see severed heads in a war? The cutting off of heads in fact--I see nothing remarkable in that!" Then, seeing the expression of the reverend gentleman's face, he added quickly: "But when it comes to teaching the children to stick cigarettes in the mouths--there I agree with you, it is a bit too strong!" (c'est un peu fort ca!) There was a sudden silence. The Near East had, in fact, momentarily undraped itself. Last came the days when we daily expected to hear that the Queen of Italy had given birth to a son and heir. A gun was made ready to fire twenty-one shots. Candles were prepared to light in every window. The flags waited to be unfurled. We all sat at lunch in the hotel. The door flew open and a perianik (royal guard) entered. He spoke a few words to Monsieur Piguet, the Prince's tutor. Piguet excused himself and left the room. After some interval he returned, heaved a heavy sigh, and in a voice of deep depression, said to the Diplomatic table: Eh bien Messieurs --nous avons une fille! It was appalling. No one in Montenegro, it would appear, had thought such a catastrophe even possible. To the Montenegrin the birth of a daughter was a misfortune. "You feed your son for yourself. You feed your daughter for another man." Faced with this mediaeval point of view the Diplomatic circle was struck dumb. Till the British Consul said bravely: "I don't care what the etiquette is! I won't condole with him." And the tension was relieved. No guns were fired, no candles lighted. Cetinje tried to look as though nothing at all had happened. One member of the Round Table at this time needs mention. Count Louis Voynovitch from Ragusa was staying in Cetinje to draw up a new code of laws. This clever adventurer was looked on with some jealousy by the Montenegrins and much favoured by the Royal Family whom he amused with anecdotes and jokes. It was said he was to be permanently Minister of Justice, but he left Montenegro rather suddenly over, it was said, a cherchez la femme affair. He then went to Bulgaria as tutor, I believe, to the young Princes, and afterwards held a post in Serbia. And he returned again to Montenegro and represented Montenegro at the Ambassadors Conference in London during the Balkan War of 1912-13. He was reputed to be deep dipped in every intrigue of the Balkans and in Jugoslavia we may some day hear of him again. Nothing else now worth recording occurred in my 1901 holiday. Next year was a full one. CHAPTER FOUR. SERBIA AND THE WAY THERE "The wicked flee when no man pursueth, but the righteous is bold as a lion." Twice had I visited Montenegro and had heard much of Great Serbia. Of the past as seen by Serb eyes I read in any number of cheap pink and blue ballad books. As for the present, big Montenegrins in the most decorative national dress in Europe, swaggered up and down the main street of Cetinje, consumed unlimited black coffee and rakia and discussed the glorious days when all Serbs should again be united under Gospodar Nikita. But that they were taking any active steps to create this earthly paradise I had then no idea. My 1902 holiday was due. I decided to go further afield and see Serbia itself, but to go first to Montenegro where I might obtain information and introductions. No one in England could tell me anything and only one recent book on the subject could be found. This was of no consequence for the real joy of travel begins with the plunge into the unknown and in 1902 it was still possible to find this joy in Europe. From Whittaker's Almanac I learnt that all passports must be visaed at the Serbian Legation and thither I hastened. I had never travelled without a passport, for accidents may always happen and even so near home as Paris identity papers may be useful. But I had never before sought a special visa. Light-heartedly, therefore, I rang the Legation bell and cheerfully offered the youth, who admitted me, the passport with a request for a visa. He told me to wait; and wait I did until--though not quite new to the Near East I began to wonder what overwhelming world-politics were detaining the Serbian Minister. Persons peeped at me cautiously through the half-open door and darted back when I looked round. Finally, I was summoned into M. Militchevitch's presence. Stiffly he asked why I wanted to go to Serbia. My reply, that having visited Montenegro I now proposed seeing other Serb lands, did not please him at all. I made things worse by enlarging on my Montenegrin experiences for I had no idea then of the fact that there is nothing one Slav State hates so much as another Slav State, and truly thought to please him. He persisted in wanting "definite information." "What do you want to do there?" "Travel and sketch and photograph and collect curios." He suggested sternly that there were other lands in Europe where all this could be done. His attitude was incomprehensible to me, who then knew foreign lands only as places which received tourists with open arms and hotels gaping for guests. He, on the other hand, found me quite as incomprehensible for, like many another Balkan man, he could conceive of no travel without a political object. And I was quite unaware that the murders upon which Great Serbia was to be built were even then being plotted. Point-blank, I asked, "Is travelling in Serbia so very dangerous then?" The shot told. "Not at all!" said he hastily. "Then why may I not go?" After more argle-bargle he consented to give me the visa on condition I went straight to the British Consul at Belgrade and did nothing without his advice. He signed, remarking that he took no responsibility. I paid and left triumphant, all unaware of the hornet's nest I was now free to enter. Of Serb politics I knew at that time little beyond the fact that King Alexander was unpopular owing to an unfortunate marriage and the still more unfortunate attempt of Queen Draga to plant a false heir upon the country by pretending pregnancy; that his father's career had been melodramatic and that the history of Serbia for the whole period of her independence had been one long blood-feud between the rival dynasties of Karageorge and Obrenovitch, neither of which seemed popular in Montenegro. Off I went to Cetinje and told various people my plan for seeing Serbia. Rather to my surprise no one offered me introductions, but having been repeatedly told that the Montenegrins were the cream of the Serb nation, and would lead Serbia to glory I believed that the mere mention of Montenegro and my acquaintance with it would suffice to assure me a welcome. Near the door of the Monastery of Cetinje is the grave of one of the Karageorgevitches and the priest who showed it me told that the families Petrovitch and Karageorgevitch had been on very friendly terms. Prince Nikola had married his daughter Zorka to Petar Karageorgevitch, the rival claimant to the Serbian throne, in 1883; that the young couple had lived in Cetinje and their three children were born there; but that, after Zorka's death in 1890, father-in-law and son-in-law had fallen out badly about money matters and Petar had been seen no more in Montenegro. The fact that the present Crown Prince Alexander of Serbia was born in Cetinje is of some interest now, when he is attempting to seize his grandfather's throne--but more of this later. In 1902 it was still undreamed of. Only Count Bollati, then Italian Minister to Montenegro, took any active interest in my plans. Le bon Dieu, he said, "has created you expressly to travel in the Balkans." He loathed Cetinje and explained he had accepted it only as one degree better than Buenos Ayres because nearer to Rome. "Nothing bites you," he continued; "everything bites me. Your method of seeing lands is undoubtedly the best, but I am satisfied with what I see from the windows of the best hotel." Nor, unfortunately, was Count Bollati in any way unique in his tastes a fact which may have affected the politics of Europe. He had held a diplomatic post in Belgrade and was very curious to know how I should fare. "Sooner you than I!" he laughed, and meanwhile sketched me a route through the chief towns and told me his first experience in the land. It was at a court ball, given by the gay and dashing King Milan. The salon was awhirl with dancers when-click--something fell to the ground near the Count's feet. A lady's jewel doubtless. He stooped and picked up a revolver cartridge. Laughing, he showed it to an aide-de-camp near him, who saw no joke in the matter and referred it to King Milan, who turned white and looked gravely anxious. And Bollati for the first time realized the Balkans. Before I left Cetinje it was officially announced that the marriage of Prince Mirko (Prince Nikola's second son) with Mademoiselle Natalie Constantinovitch had been fixed for July 12 O.S. (1902), and the faire parts were sent to the Corps Diplomatique. The bride was cousin to King Alexander Obrenovitch who had no direct heir. Failing one, she was one of the nearest relations to the Obrenovitch dynasty. The astute Prince Nikola, having married a daughter to the Karageorge claimant to the throne, now strove to make assurance doubly sure by marrying a son to a possible rival candidate. My diary notes though: "It seems there has been a lot of bother about it and that it was nearly 'off' as Papa Constantinovitch required Mirko to put down a considerable amount in florins. And Mirko could not produce them. I suppose he has now borrowed on his expectation of the Serbian throne. Which is, I imagine, his only asset." I confess that at this time I did not know the Balkans and saw all these doings humorously, as a comic operetta. But the comic operas of the Balkans are written in blood and what was then fun to me was to end in a world tragedy. My route to Belgrade was by boat to Fiume and thence by rail via Agram. On the boat I picked up a Croatian lady and her daughter, who moped miserably in the hot and stuffy cabin till they ventured to ask my permission to sit with me on deck. "You are English, so the men will not dare annoy us," they said, "if we are with you." Only English women, they declared, could travel as I did. The mere idea of a journey in Serbia terrified them and they assured me it was quite impossible. And the cheap hotel in Agram, to which they recommended me, was of the same opinion. The company there assured me that King Alexander was drinking himself to death, and were loud in their expression of contempt for land and people. In those days union between Croatia and Serbia was possible only if Croatia swallowed Serbia. And not very long after I was in Agram riots took place in which the Serbs of the town were attacked and plundered. As the train lumbered over the plains north of the Save, on the way to Belgrade, my fellow travellers, too, thought I was bound on a mad and impossible errand. As is usual in the Near East they all cross-examined me about my private affairs with boring persistency, and their verdict was that not even a British passport would see me through. "You will never see Serbia," they declared. I did though. For, being wholly innocent of any plots, all the efforts of all the multitudinous police of Serbia failed to turn me from my plan. "The wicked flee when no man pursueth, but the righteous is as bold as a lion." The train thundered over the iron bridge at night and deposited me in Belgrade. I had to give up my passport and my troubles began. I had come to see Serbia, and finally saw the whole of it and have described it in another book. But for obvious reasons I did not then recount all that befell me; I did not even understand it all. Looking back on that tour I can only wonder at the dogged persistence with which I overcame all the obstacles which the Serb police put in my way. Short of forbidding me to travel they did all they could. In accordance with my promise to M. Militchevitch, "To do nothing without consulting the British Consul," I went to the consulate, where I found a nice young man, who had but recently arrived and seemed to know nothing whatever about the country. He was playing with a dachsdog and told me cheerfully I could go anywhere I liked "and none of them will dare touch you." But he warned me that it would be very expensive as carriages were two pounds a day. I suggested mildly that the land being a poor one this could not possibly be the regular charge, but that people sometimes had to pay extra for the privilege of being British Consul; which apparently he had never thought of. It proved correct though. Serbia in those days was the cheapest spot in Europe. Never again in all probability will the peasant be so well off. But before starting up country I meant to see Belgrade, and began by asking at the hotel where the King was to be seen. For a King, in 1902 at any rate, was still an object of interest, and one of the "show sights" of most European countries. The waiter replied "You want to see our King? You won't see him. He dares not come out of the Konak. He is probably drunk." Nor in fact during the time I spent in Belgrade did he ever come out. In Belgrade the first thing I learnt was that I was "shadowed" by the police. To the uninitiated this is most uncanny. The same man keeps turning up. He does it very badly as a rule. You sit and have coffee on one side of a street and he sits and drinks beer at the restaurant opposite. You wander on and think: "What an ass I was to think he was following me!" and meet him at the next corner. Most disquieting of all perhaps is to come suddenly out of your bedroom and almost tumble over him in the corridor. All these and more were my experiences in the first weeks of my tour. And always I said to myself in triumph: "They can't do anything to me for I have not done anything." I could not even buy a railway ticket for a day's outing without being cross-examined as to my purpose, my father, my uncles and other relatives. The officials in Vain assured me that there was nothing to see in the place I wished to visit. I played the card which had succeeded with Militchevitch and asked if it were dangerous. I could not enter a village without being at once asked by the local policeman for my passport. Blankly ignorant of what was behind these proceedings I steadily pursued my way, smiling at all questions and supplying at demand long biographies of various members of my family. No; my father had not been in the diplomatic service, nor my uncles, nor brothers, nor cousins. No; none of them were officers. "I have come to see Serbia," said I, in return to the enquiry of a police officer. "But what do you see?" he asked, gazing wildly round. "I see nothing!" Every official I think in every village, saw my sketch book, demanded an explanation of why I had selected such things as wells, gravestones, carts and cottages to draw, and remained mystified. For the common objects of Serbia were of no interest to them. I merely looked on all these vagaries as so many peculiar and silly Serbian customs--wondered what the Serbs would do if a hundred or so tourists appeared, for then there would not be enough police to go round--and did not allow myself to be ruffled even when three times in one day I had to show my passport to individuals who pounced down on me in the street. When I arrived at the' least bad hotel in Nish the hotelier said he did not wish to be mixed up in the affair; gave me the worst room in the house and told me I had better leave by the first train next morning. I said I was going to stay and did. And explored Nish conscious of "guardian angels" at my heels. But it was here that I realized that there was something sinister in the background, for so suspicious were the hotel people that when, for two days I was seriously unwell, not one of them would come in answer to my bell but an old woman, who flatly refused to bring me anything and never turned up again. I lived on Brand's beef lozenges till I was well enough on the evening of the second day to crawl downstairs and bribe a waiter to fetch me some milk. Once recovered I went to Pirot by rail in spite of pressing requests that I would return to Belgrade. I wanted to see the Pirot carpet factories, but of course no one believed this. They all imagined, as I learnt later, that I was bound for Bulgaria with evil intentions: messages from Montenegro for the undoing of Serbia. I was quite unaware at the time that Prince Ferdinand and Prince Nikola were plotting together. Arrived at Pirot it was obvious that I was considered dangerous. I was stopped in the station by police and military authorities, who had doubtless been warned of my arrival, and told that I was not to go near the Bulgar frontier, much less cross it. Only after some argument did they consent to let me stay two days in the town. Then I was to leave for Belgrade by the early morning train, and to make sure that I could not escape by any other route, they confiscated my passport and said it should be returned to me at the station when I left. Tension between Serbia and Bulgaria was obviously extreme. By way of warning, I was told that a Bulgar spy had just been caught and was in prison. But I had come to see the carpet making and I saw it. The carpets are very interesting. They are made in no other part of Serbia and are in truth Bulgarian in origin. Pirot before its annexation to Serbia in 1878 was an undoubtedly Bulgar district. Old books of travel call Nish Bulgar. In Pirot a distinctly Bulgar cast of countenance and build is to be seen. And the neighbouring peasants play the bagpipe, the typical Bulgar instrument. The type extends not only into the south of Serbia (of 1902), but in the east spreads over the Timok. The population along the frontier and around Zaitchar I found Bulgar and Roumanian, the flat-faced, heavily built Bulgar with high cheekbones and lank black hair predominating--all being Serbized, of course. Having seen the carpet making at Pirot, I obediently appeared at the railway station at the appointed time as bidden. Suddenly, the whole atmosphere changed. The same officials who had received me so inimically now wanted me to stay! Having first worn my quite respectable supply of patience almost threadbare, the Serbs turned right round and did all they could to efface first impressions. The whole thing seemed to me childish and astonishing. But I profited largely by it and went the rest of my way in comparative comfort. By this time I had learnt that Serbia was in a state of intense political tension, and that my ingenuous statement that I had come straight from Cetinje had gone badly against me. Stupid officials asked me so many leading questions that they revealed far more than they had learnt and showed me quite clearly that a plot to put Prince Mirko on the throne of Serbia at no distant date, was believed to exist. That most wily of Royal stud-grooms, Prince Nikola, had so married his family that he undoubtedly believed that "What he lost on the roundabouts he would gain on the swings," and that his position as Head of Great Serbia was assured. Having heard so much of the Petrovitches as the natural lords of Great Serbia, this plan did not seem to me so unreasonable. But I soon found it had very little support in Serbia. Only in the extreme south--at Ivanjitza, Studenitza and thereabouts did I find Montenegro at all popular. Elsewhere it was looked on with jealousy and suspicion. The Montenegrins, folk said, were incurably lazy and very dirty, and their immigration into the country was not desired. Some Montenegrin students came to the Serbian schools, but were denounced as ungrateful and impossible. A Montenegrin, I was told, was a lout who would sit all day on the doorstep wearing a revolver and doing nothing, and would expect high pay or at least good keep for so doing. In 1898 the Serb Government had actually forbidden the immigration of Montenegrins. In brief, it was clear Serbia would not accept a Montenegrin Prince at any price, and Mirko's chances were nil. Montenegro was despised. Bulgaria was hated--was the enemy, always had been and always would be. But even after I had been accepted by the country strange things still happened. At Kraljevo there was almost a fight over me between the Nachelnik (Mayor) who ordered me to leave next day, and a man to whom I had been given a letter of introduction. He said I should stay: the other that I was to go, and they shouted at each other till both were scarlet. When mentioning this later to a company of Serbs they asked "What was the name of the man you had an introduction to?" I gave it. They exchanged glances. "That family was in trouble formerly about the murder of Prince Michel" was all that was said. He was in point of fact a partisan of the Karageorgevitch family. And the Mayor was a pro-Obrenovitch. At Kragujevatz I fell right into the Karageorgevitch party. That I met them in strength in Kragujevatz is now a matter of interest. At the time I little dreamed that from this straggling big village--it could hardly be called a town--would emanate bombs that would set Europe on fire. The Royal Arsenal is at Kragujevatz, and when I was there in 1902 the place was certainly a centre of disaffection. It was here that I was told outright that Alexander must either divorce Draga--or go. What was to follow was uncertain. They wished, if possible, to avoid a revolution. I was even begged to work a propaganda in favour of Petar Karageorgevitch in England. Above all to write to The Times, and my informants said they trusted to my honour not to betray their names. Had I pursued the subject I have now little doubt that I might have learnt much more and even have got in touch with the leaders of the movement--if indeed I had not already fallen into their hands! But it was my first contact with a plot of any kind and I instinctively recoiled from having anything to do with it. It is almost impossible for those who have led a peaceful life to realize that real human blood is going to be shed. The thing sounded more like melodrama than real life. But it was definitely stated that "something was going to happen" and that I should watch the papers and see at no distant date. My new acquaintances were vexed that I should have$ been so harassed in the early stages of my journey, but oddly enough ascribed it not to the folly of their own officials, but to the fact that the British Consul had not given me letters of introduction! "If your own Consul will not guarantee you, of course it seems suspicious!" This remark alone is enough to show the abyss that separated Serbia from West Europe. Politics in the Near East are an obsession--a nervous disease which may end in acute dementia and homicidal mania. Having decided to confide in me, folk then began pouring out disgusting tales about Queen Draga. So disgusting that I soon cut all tales short so soon as her name occurred. Nor is it now necessary to rake up old muck-heaps. One point though is of interest. Among many races all over the world there is a widespread belief that sexual immorality, whether in the form of adultery or incest will inevitably entail most serious consequences not only upon the guilty parties, but upon the community as a whole, and even menace the existence of a whole people. Thebes, for example, suffered blight and pestilence owing to the incest of Oedipus. I found it widely believed in Serbia that before marrying Alexander, Draga had been his father's mistress and was told emphatically that the marriage must bring a curse. Serbia could never flourish while she was on the throne. It is highly probable that though the subsequent murders were arranged and carried out for a definite political purpose by an organized gang, they were acquiesced in by the ignorant mass for the above reason--a genuine belief that there was a curse on the land that would be removed only by Draga's death. The country, I was told, was in a terrible state. None of the officers had been paid for six months. Draga, it was said, took all the money to buy diamonds. The wretched woman's little collection of jewellery which was sold at Christie's after her death, proved, however, the falsity of this tale. But it doubtless accounted partly for the unbridled ferocity with which the military gang fell upon her. That there was not enough money to pay them seemed to me not surprising, for the land swarmed with officers. I was told that in proportion to its size there were more officers in Serbia than in Germany and noted in my diary at the time "the whole land seems eaten out of house and home with officers who seem to have nothing on earth to do but play cards. It is a great pity for the country. As soon as the peasants learn a little I expect they will turn Socialist." An army is an expensive luxury and "Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do" is a true saying. Serbia has paid dearly for the lot of swankers, clad in most unnecessarily expensive uniforms, whom I saw gambling in the cafes from morning till night. All these points are noteworthy in the light of the present. One other may yet strongly influence the future of the Serb race. That is their religious fanaticism, which then surprised me. It was not astonishing that the Serbs hated Islam, but that they should fiercely hate every other Christian Church I did not expect. It is but one more instance of the fact that it was largely to the fanaticism of the Orthodox Church that the Balkan people owed their conquest by the Turks. Evidence enough there is to show that when their fate was in the balance the Orthodox of the Balkans regarded the Turk as a lesser evil than the Pope. Even in 1902, though a few mosques were still permitted to exist, no Catholic Church was tolerated save that attached to one of the Legations over which, of course, the Serb Government had no control. Most of the foreign women I met, who had married Serbs, told me frankly that for the sake of peace they had had to join the Orthodox Church; "you cannot live here unless you do." The American missionaries who have done so much for Bulgaria and were permitted to work freely under the tolerant Turk, were only allowed to travel through Serbia on condition they held no services. I was astonished at the intense bitterness with which the ex-Queen Natalie's conversion to Rome was spoken of. As the poor woman had led a wretched life in Serbia and had left it for ever, her religion could be no concern whatever now of the Serbs. But it seemed to be considered on all sides as an insult to the nation. Nor was it, so far as I could see, because the people were devout believers--the upper classes certainly did not appear to be--but because the Church was Serbian, and represented a frenzied and intolerant Nationalism. To such an extent was this carried out that a Catholic Albanian, of whom I subsequently saw a good deal, had to add "itch" to the end of his name and conform to the Orthodox Church outwardly in order to obtain leave to open a shop in Belgrade. That frenzied Nationalism and not religion is at the base of this intolerance is further proved by hatred of the Serb for the Bulgarian Church, which on all points of dogma and doctrine and in its services is precisely the same as that of the Serbs. And this same frenzied Nationalism, if persisted in, may yet lead to Serbia's undoing. On looking back I see that my tour in Serbia was a turning point in my Balkan studies. Till then the Balkans had been a happy hunting ground filled by picturesque and amusing people, in which to collect tales, sketch and forget home miseries for a time in a quite new world. I left Serbia with very mixed feelings. Much of the tour I had enjoyed. After the police difficulties of the beginning I had met with great hospitality and much kindness and it is always a pleasure to penetrate an unknown land, ride through great forests and see the new view open at the top of the pass. When the Belgrade police visaed my passport for the last time they bade me a friendly farewell. But I was severely disillusioned as to Great Serbia. Instead of brethren pining to be united, I had found a mass of dark intrigue--darker than I then knew--envy, hatred and all uncharitableness. No love was lost between Serb and Montenegrin. Alexander was to divorce his wife or go. "Something" would happen soon. And I knew that if Prince Mirko really aspired to the throne of Serbia he would be disappointed--no matter which way the cat hopped. The Balkans were in future to be to me a Sphinx--an asker of ceaseless riddles each of which led to one yet more complicated; riddles which it took long to solve. The riddle of my strange reception in Serbia was not explained until four years afterwards. And the tale fits in rightly here. It was Militchevitch who told me--he who had signed my passport in the spring of 1902. I did not see him again till 1907. "I have been reading your book," he said. "I wondered if you had noticed what happened. I see you did at once." "Noticed what!" I asked. "That from the time you left Pirot you were differently treated." He laughed. "Now it is all over long ago you may as well know. You have no idea the excitement you caused. The Serbian Government spent a small fortune in cypher telegrams about you." And he told this astonishing tale: Among the banished members of the Karageorgevitch family was a certain woman who came to England and studied at an English college. She wore her hair short. When therefore I arrived at Belgrade, as ignorant as any babe of the dark undercurrent of politics, the Serbian police at once leapt to the conclusion that I was the lady in question come on a political errand. My passport bothered them as they could find no flaw in it. It was arranged to keep me under supervision and Militchevitch was at once telegraphed to. What did he know about the so-called Englishwoman whose passport he had signed? He could only reply "Nothing." Followed an angry telegram asking what business he had to sign the passports of people of whom he knew nothing, and that in fact he had let one of the Karageorgevitch gang get into the country, who was about to be arrested. Much alarmed, he replied that he was under the impression I was certainly English, and that it would be rash in the highest degree to arrest me without further evidence. They then did all they could to prevent my tour, short of forbidding it. My imperturbable persistence thwarted them. Telegrams flew backwards and forwards. London to Belgrade, Belgrade to London. Militchevitch was ordered to make enquiries about me of the police, who knew nothing at all about me, which surprised him. He ascertained, however, that persons of my name actually lived at the address I had given and were locally of good repute. He implored that my arrest--which was imminent--should be delayed lest international complications ensued. Why the Serb authorities did not impart their doubts to the British Consulate in Belgrade must remain a Balkan mystery. Instead of doing so the Serb police replied, "We are having her followed everywhere. The names of all she speaks to are noted. She goes everywhere. She talks to any one who will talk to her. She draws all kinds of things for what purpose we cannot ascertain. She speaks Serbian very badly, but it is evident she does so on purpose and that she understands everything." My arrest was almost decided on, when some one had a brilliant idea. A photograph of the suspected Serbian lady was somehow obtained in England and Militchevitch was then able to swear that it had no resemblance to the Englishwoman whose passport he had signed. Serbia was saved--that time! I was then in Pirot. Orders at once flew over the country that the treatment should be at once reversed and that the unpleasant impression that had been produced should be, as far as possible, obliterated. The episode gives a clear idea of the state of nervous tension that existed. The sublime folly of the Serbian police consisted in thinking that if I were really an agent of Prince Mirko, bringing messages and intending to take them on to Sofia I should have been such a fool as to tell every one I met that I had just come from Cetinje. But perhaps they judged others by themselves. The semi-oriental mind is born to suspicion and can conceive of no straightforward action. In truth "DORA" hails from the Near East. Is not her very name of Greek origin? To me it was a useful experience for it hardened me to being "shadowed," and I bore it serenely ever afterwards. So much so in fact that when in 1915 at Marseilles I was twice cross-examined by the French Intelligence Officers and three times and very minutely, by the English ones, I thought it funny, which surprised them. They would have been still more surprised had I told them that they reminded me of the police of Belgrade, and asked them why they were called "Intelligence." Their efforts were as vain as those of their Serb forerunners and for the same reason. I had no plots to reveal. CHAPTER FIVE. WHAT WAS BEHIND IT ALL It is a strange Desire to seeke Power and to lose Libertie. . . . The standing is slippery, and the Regresse is either a Downefall, or at least an Eclipse. Which is a Melancholy Thing.--BACON. I went to Serbia as a tourist, but, thanks to the misdirected energy of the Serb police, was made aware for the first time of the unseen forces which were at work in the Balkans. What these forces were we must now consider. Since the end of the seventeenth century Russia and Austria had competed for expansion into the Balkans. Each had gone to war nominally, "to free Christians from the Turkish yoke," but actually in order to annex these populations themselves. Each, by promoting risings in Turkish territory and by financing rival Balkan sovereigns, had silently and ceaselessly worked towards the same goal. In the great game Montenegro, as we have seen, hall been Russia's pawn since the days when Peter the Great sent his Envoy to Vladika Danilo. Montenegro had become Russia's outpost in the West. Russia was Montenegro's God--and her paymaster. "The dog barks for him that feeds him!" says an Albanian proverb. Montenegro barked, and bit too, at Russia's behest. Serbia throughout the nineteenth century was rent by the ceaseless blood-feud between the Karageorgevitches and the Obrenovitches, a history bloody as that of the Turkish Sultans, the results of which are not yet over--one that has so largely influenced the fate of yet unborn generations that we must understand its outlines in order to follow modern events. Serbia, at the end of the eighteenth century, was bitterly oppressed, not so much by the Turkish Government, as by the Jannisaries, the insolent and all powerful military organization which had broken loose from restraint and was now a danger to the Turkish Empire. The Jannisaries actually elected their own chiefs and were semi-independent. And of all the Jannisaries of the Empire none were more opposed to the Sultan than those of Belgrade. Their commanders called themselves Dahis and aimed at complete government of the province. It is a singular fact, and one which should be emphasized, that the Jannisaries were themselves to a very large extent, of Balkan origin. Their ancestors had been either forcibly converted or had, as was not infrequent, voluntarily adopted Islam. The Moslem Serb was a far greater persecutor of the Christian Serb than was the Turk. We find that the leading Dahis of Belgrade hailed from Focha in the Herzegovina. Sultan Selim in, terrified of the growing power of these Jannisaries, sided with his Christian subjects, sent troops against them, and forcibly evicted them from Belgrade. A Turkish Pasha, Hadji Mustafa, was appointed as Governor, whose rule was so just and beneficent that the land was soon at peace and the grateful Serbs called him "Srpska Majka"--the Serbian Mother. But the Jannisaries had retired only as far as Widin which was commanded by the brigand leader Pasvanoglu, whose savage hordes were devastating the country-side in defiance of the Government. Together they attacked the Serbs. Hadji Mustafa, true to his trust, organized the Serbs to resist. The Serbs were now by no means untrained to war, for many had served in the Austrian Army during the late campaigns against the Turks. But the spectacle of a Turkish Pasha inciting Christian rayah against an army of Moslems aroused the wrath of the Faithful throughout the Empire. They demanded the deposition of Hadji Mustafa and the re-admission of the Jannisaries to Belgrade. The Sultan was unable to resist and the Jannisaries returned. Thirsting to avenge the humiliation of their forced retirement they assassinated Hadji Mustafa, seized power, and to prevent a further Serb rising, fell upon the Serb villages and murdered numbers of the headmen. By so doing they precipitated what they wished to prevent. The Serbs rose in mass and called Karageorge, grandfather of the present King Peter of Serbia, to be their leader. He refused at first, saying that his violent temper would cause him to kill without taking council first. But he was told that the times called for violence. Born of peasant stock about 1765, his upbringing was crudely savage; his ferocity was shown from the first. In 1787 a panic seized the peasants when an Austrian attack upon the Turks was expected. To save themselves and their flocks from the approaching Turkish army they fled in crowds, hurrying to cross the Save and finding safety in Austria. George's father was very reluctant to go, and on reaching the river would not cross it. George, in a blind fury, refusing either to stay himself and make terms with the Turks, or to leave his father behind, snatched the pistol from his sash and shot the old man down. Then, shouting to a comrade to give his father a death-blow, for he was still writhing, George hurried on, leaving behind him a few cattle to pay for the burial and the funeral feast. On his return later to Serbia he took to the mountains for some time as a heyduk or brigand. Such was the man called on to lead the Serbs. Rough and completely uneducated, he yet possessed that strange power of influencing men which constitutes a born leader. His practice as a heyduk and a natural capacity for strategy enabled him for long to wage successful guerrilla warfare, which baffled the Turks. The dense forests and the roadless mountains were natural fortresses of which he made full use. Alternating with astonishing outbursts of energy and ferocity, were periods of sullen silence during which he sat for days without speaking, gnawing his nails. That there was a strain of insanity in his genius appears certain--an insanity which has reappeared in his great-grandson and namesake who, subject to similar fits of loss of control, used to terrorise the populace by galloping furiously through village streets, and was finally forced to abdicate his right to the throne in March 1909, after the brutal murder of his valet. A case worth the study of students of heredity. A contemporary of old Karageorge thus describes him: "His bold forehead bound with a tress of black hair gave him a look rather Asiatic than European. . . . This man was one of the bold creations of wild countries and troublous times--beings of impetuous courage, iron strength, original talent and doubtful morality." The might of his personality overcame all obstacles. He appealed to Russia for aid, and a Russian Minister was sent to Serbia along with money and men. He freed and ruled over a large tract of land. But his rule was not much milder than that of the Jannisaries, and his harsh tyranny made him many enemies. When his wrath was once aroused it was unrestrainable, and he struck down and killed many of his own followers. Discontent arose and spread. The Serbs divided into many parties, each with rival leaders. Russia, who had supported Karageorge, was now herself engaged in a life and death struggle with Napoleon. The Russian regiment which had been quartered at Belgrade, left the country. The turn of the Turks had now come. They attacked the Serbs in force. With no aid from without to be hoped for, the country was in greater danger than ever. But even common danger, as history has again and again shown, does not suffice to cure that fatal Slav weakness--the tendency to split into rival parties led by jealous chieftains. There was no union among the Serb forces now, at the very hour when it was most needed. And for some never explained reason Karageorge failed to appear. His Voyvodas struggled with the foe and were beaten back and suddenly, in October 1813, Karageorge, the chosen leader of the Serbian people, fled into Austria with a few followers, without even having struck a blow. This tragic and most fatal failure was due in all probability, to a mental collapse to which his unstable and unbalanced nature would be peculiarly liable. The Austrians promptly interned both him and his men in fortresses, but released them at the intercession of Russia, and they retired into Bessarabia. Meanwhile, his place was taken by Milosh Obrenovitch, also a peasant, who led the Serb rising of 1815 with such success that he was recognized as ruler, under Turkish suzerainty, of a considerable territory. And as a ruler, moreover, with hereditary rights. It is said that Russia never forgave the Obrenovitches that they were appointed by the Sultan and not by herself. Scarcely was Milosh well established when Karageorge returned from his long absence. The break-up of the Turkish Empire had begun. The Greeks were in a ferment. Russia supported them. The Hetairia had been formed and a plan was afoot for a great simultaneous rising of Greeks and Serbs and Roumanians. Karageorge was to be one of its leaders. But Milosh was in power, id did not mean to relinquish it. And he dreamed already of wide empire. He examined the question with sangfroid and decided that if the Greek revolution succeeded in its hopes, an Empire would be reborn in the East which would regard Serbia as its province and might be more dangerous than the Turk. Did not the Greeks, in the fourteenth century, call the Turks to Europe to fight the "Tsar of Macedonia who loves Christ?" Milosh remained faithful to the Turk, saying "Let us remain in Turkey and profit by her mistakes." He suppressed all pro-Greek action, executed twenty pro-Greek conspirators, and exposed their bodies at the roadside, and--in an evil hour for Serbia--had Karageorge assassinated and sent his head to the Pasha. From that day onward the feud between the two houses raged with ever increasing fury. Until to-day every ruler of Serbia has been either exiled, murdered, or has had his life attempted. "Family tradition comes first" says Vladan Georgevitch. "All the families of Serbia have, from the beginning, been followers of either the Karageorgevitches or the Obrenovitches." As time went on, the Obrenovitches became the choice of Austria, while Russia supported the Karageorges, and the puppets jigged as the Great Powers pulled the wires. Milosh's subjects revolted against his intolerable tyranny and exiled him in 1839. His son Michel succeeded him, a cultivated man who strove to introduce Austrian educational methods. He was evicted in 1842, and the Karageorges again swung into power. Alexander, father of King Petar, was put on the throne, only in his turn to be chased out in 1858. And old Milosh came back and died in 1860 --fortunately for himself perhaps--for he was the same old Milosh, and his renewed tyranny was again provoking wrath. Serbia had now come to a parting of the ways. There was a Prince of either line, and each had already occupied the throne. Michel Obrenovitch was re-elected. All agree that he was the most enlightened Prince that had as yet occupied the throne, but the blood of old Black George was unavenged, and Michel paid the penalty. He and his cousin, Madame Constantinovitch, and his aide-de-camp were all assassinated on June 10, 1868, in the Park near Belgrade. So set were the murderers on fulfilling their task that they hacked their victim's body with forty wounds. The complicity of Alexander Karageorgevitch and his son Petar--now King --was proved. The plot was engineered by means of Alexander's lawyer, Radovanovitch. The Shkupstina hastily summoned demanded the extradition of the two Karageorgevitches of Austria, whither they had fled, and failing to obtain it outlawed them and all their house for ever and ever, and declared their property forfeit to the State. Fifteen accomplices arrested in Serbia were found guilty and executed with a barbarity which roused European indignation. We can scarcely doubt what would have been the fate of the two principals had they fallen into Serb hands. The grotesque fact remains that it is to Austria that King Petar owes not only his crown, but his life! It was an odd fate that thirty years afterwards gave me an introduction to a relative of one of the conspirators, and almost caused a fight to take place over me at Kraljevo. The Karageorgevitches having been exiled by the unanimous vote of the Shkupstina for ever--till next time--Milan, cousin of the murdered Michel, succeeded him on the throne at the age of fourteen. And there was a Regency till 1872. Milan was a handsome dashing fellow with not too much brain--a typical, boastful, immoral Serb officer. As a result of the Russo-Turkish War of 1877, in which, however, he displayed little military skill, Serbia was raised from a principality to a Kingdom. Russia at this time showed little or no interest in Serbia. She was devoting all her energy and diplomacy to the creation of a big Bulgaria, which should ultimately serve her as a land-bridge to the coveted Constantinople. She had no use then for Serbia, and was no friend of the Obrenovitches, and in the Treaty of San Stefano dealt so scurvily by Serbia that Prince Milan opposed the Treaty and said he would defend Nish against Russian troops if necessary. At the Berlin Congress, Milan called for and obtained a good deal more land than Russia had allotted him--territory which was, in fact, Bulgar and Albanian. He, moreover, made a Convention with Austria by which the frontiers and dynasty of Serbia were guaranteed. One of those many "scraps of paper" which fill the World's Waste Paper Basket. It was now plain that Milan, if allowed to gain more power, would be an obstacle to Pan-slavism in the Balkans. The claims of the disinherited and exiled Petar Karageorgevitch began to be talked of. Nikola Pashitch, hereafter to be connected with a long series of crimes, now appears on the scenes. Of Macedonian origin, he soon became one of Russia's tools, and was leader of the so-called Radical party, though "pro-Russian" would be a more descriptive title. It was "radical" only in the sense that it was bent on rooting up any that opposed it. Things began to move. In 1883 Prince Nikola married his daughter to Petar Karageorgevitch, and that same year a revolt in favour of Petar broke out at the garrison town of Zaitshar. Oddly enough it was at Zaitshar in 1902 that I was most pestered by the officers to declare whom I thought should ascend the Serbian throne should Alexander die childless. By that time I was wary and put them off by saying "The Prince of Wales!" I have often wondered how many of those suspicious and swaggering officers were among those who next year flung the yet palpitating bodies of Alexander and Draga from the Konak windows while the Russian Minister looked on. The revolt of 1883 was quickly crushed and Pashitch, along with some other conspirators, fled into Bulgaria for protection. Others were arrested in Serbia and executed. The pro-Russian movement was checked for a time. Pashitch owed his life to Bulgaria, and not on this occasion only. His subsequent conduct to that land has not been marked with gratitude. CHAPTER SIX. THE GREAT SERBIAN IDEA "Oh what a tangled web we weave, When first we practice to deceive."--SCOTT. The Great Serbian Idea--the scheme for the reconstruction of Tsar Dushan's mediaeval Empire--now began to sprout and germinate. In truth that Empire had been constructed by Dushan by means of mercenary armies, partly German, by aid of which he temporarily subdued Bosnians, Albanians, Bulgars and Greeks. And he paid those armies by means of the silver mines, worked largely by Italians. Great Serbia was an incoherent mass of different and hostile races, and it broke to pieces immediately on his death. But five centuries of Turkish rule in no way modified the hate which one Balkan race bore for another. Each, on gaining freedom, had but one idea--to overthrow and rule the other. Milosh Obrenovitch had already begun to toy with the Great Serbian Idea when he refused to support the Greeks in their struggle for freedom. The success of the wars of 1876-77 raised fresh ambitions. But now there were two possible heads for Great Serbia--Milan Obrenovitch, who had been raised to kingship, and who owed his position to Austria; and Nikola Petrovitch, recognized as Prince of an independent land, and "the only friend" of the Tsar of All the Russias. The bitter rivalry, not yet extinct, between the two branches of the Serb race--Serbia and Montenegro--now began. One thing the Serb people have never forgotten and that is that in Dushan's reign Bulgaria was Serbia's vassal. The reconstruction simultaneously of Big Bulgaria and Great Serbia is impossible. And neither race has as yet admitted that a middle course is the safest. The Zaitshar affair had shown King Milan pretty clearly that the blood of the murdered Karageorge still howled for vengeance. His position was further complicated by the fact that his beautiful Russian wife, Natalie, was an ardent supporter of the plans of her Fatherland. He made a bold bid for popularity. Filled with exaggerated ideas of his own prowess, and flushed by victories over the Turks, he rushed to begin reconstructing Great Serbia by attacking Bulgaria, which, though newly formed, had already shown signs of consolidating and becoming a stumbling block in Serbia's path to glory. The declaration of war was immensely popular. Had Milan succeeded, the fate of the Obrenovitches might have been very different. But he and his army were so badly beaten that only swift intervention by Austria saved Serbia from destruction. Pashitch, it should be noted, remained in Bulgaria during this war, and in fact owed his life to that country which he has since done so much to ruin. The pieces on the Balkan chessboard then stood thus: A Serbia which was the most bitter enemy of Bulgaria and whose King was Austrophile. A violently pro-Russian Montenegro, filled with contempt for the beaten Serbs, and ruled by a Prince who regarded himself confidently as the God-appointed restorer of Great Serbia, and who was openly supporting his new son-in-law, the rival claimant to the Serb throne. The throne of Serbia, never too stable, now rocked badly. King Milan declared that Pan-Slavism was the enemy of Serbia and he was certainly right. For in those days it would have simply meant complete domination by Russia--the great predatory power whose maw has never yet been filled. He pardoned Pashitch, thinking possibly it was better to come to terms with him than to have him plotting in an enemy country, Pashitch returned as head of the Radical party and Serbia became a hot-bed of foul and unscrupulous intrigue into which we need not dig now. Between the partisans of Russia and Austria, Serbia was nearly torn in half. After incessant quarrels with his Russian wife, Milan in 1888 divorced her--more or less irregularly--and in the following year threw up the game and abdicated in favour of his only legitimate child, the ill-fated Alexander who was then but fourteen. Torn this way and that by his parents' quarrels, brought up in the notoriously corrupt court of Belgrade and by nature, according to the accounts of those who knew him, of but poor mental calibre, Alexander is, perhaps, to be as much pitied as blamed. His nerves, so Mr. Chedo Miyatovitch told me, never recovered from the shock of a boating accident when young. He was the last and decadent scion of the Obrenovitches and was marked down from his accession. Vladan Georgevitch, who was Prime Minister of Serbia from 1897 till 1900, in his book The End of a Dynasty, throws much light on the events that led up to the final catastrophe. It is highly significant that after its publication he was sentenced to six months' imprisonment, not for libel or false statements, but "on a charge of having acted injuriously to Serbia by publishing State secrets." His account is therefore in all probability correct. He begins by relating Prince Alexander's visit to Montenegro shortly after the termination of the Regency. Here the astute Prince Nikola tried to persuade him to marry Princess Xenia. Princess Zorka was dead; Prince Nikola had quarrelled rather badly with his son-in-law, Petar Karageorgevitch, and, it would appear, meant to lose no chance of obtaining a matrimonial alliance with any and every possible claimant to the Serbian throne. Alexander would not consent to the match, and stated that his object in visiting Montenegro was to bring about a political alliance between that country and Serbia in order to defend Serb schools and churches in Turkish territory and generally protect Serb interests. This Nikola refused unless the said lands were definitely partitioned into "spheres of interest" and Prizren were included in his own. He was already determined to occupy the throne of Stefan Dushan. The two ministers who accompanied Alexander supported this claim. "I tell you," says Alexander, "these two men when with me at Cetinje acted not as Ministers of mine, but as Ministers of the Prince of Montenegro." He denounced such a division of the territory and the negotiations broke off. The visit to Montenegro was a failure. Some years afterwards in Montenegro I was told triumphantly that the match would not have been at all suitable for Princess Xenia and that her father had refused it on the grounds that "no King of Serbia has yet died except by murder, or in exile." But the death of Alexander was then already planned--though I of course did not know it--and Alexander's version of the affair is more probably correct. In 1897 the nets began to close round the wretched youth. Russia made up her long quarrel with Bulgaria and enlisted a new foe to the Obrenovitches--Prince Ferdinand. She had long refused to recognize this astute and capable Prince who was rapidly raising Bulgaria to an important position in the Balkans, and now decided to make use of him. The benefits might be mutual, for without Russian support Ferdinand could not hope to reconstruct the Big Bulgaria of the Middle Ages. Russia cynically used either Bulgaria or Serbia as best suited her purpose at the moment. In August of the same year Russia further strengthened her position by her alliance with France, who at once obediently ranged herself against the Obrenovitches. In the following October, Alexander appointed Vladan Georgevitch Prime Minister, and bade him form a Government. The merits or demerits of this Government we need not trouble about. What is of interest is that it was at once attacked by the French Press. The Temps accused Vladan of secret understandings with Goluchowsky and Kallay, before forming it. The Courier de Soir thought that "such a policy is the result of the Triple Alliance and is an offence to the balance of Europe." Serbia apparently was to be used as the determining weight on the European scales. La Souverainte went farther and said boldly: "The moment has come when Tsar Nicholas should show the same firmness of character as his father showed to the Battenburg and Coburg in Bulgaria!" The Nova Vremya declared "that the new Government clearly meant to bring Serbia into economic dependence on Austria-Hungary." And most of the newspapers of Europe announced the fact that the Tsar had granted an audience to Prince Petar Karageorgevitch and had conversed with him on the critical state of Serbia. Vladan then recommended to Alexander the rash plan of inviting General von der Golte to xmdertake the reform of the Serb Army as he had done that of Turkey. The plan pleased von der Goltz, but was dropped in consequence of the violent anti-Serb campaign which it aroused in the French Press. The Serb Minister in Paris, Garashanin, tried to buy some of the French papers, but had to report to his Government that this was impossible so long as Serbia was hostile to Russia. France was paying the Russian piper--but it was the piper that called the tune. The Russo-French policy of ringing in the Central Powers was already aimed at. The wretched Alexander, not knowing whom to trust, nor where to turn, then begged his exiled father to return from Austria and take command of the army. Milan did so and Russia was more than ever furious. Warnings were now frequently received that Russia was planning the deaths of both Milan and Alexander. One such warning was sent by the Berlin Foreign Office. In May 1898 Nikola Pashitch, who had been working an anti-Obrenovitch propaganda in Bulgaria, was again in Serbia, and led the Radical party in the general elections. The Government, however, won by a large majority. His work in Bulgaria seems to have been effective for in June the Serb Minister to Sofia sent in a very important report to his Government: 1. That Russia was determined that Milan should leave Serbia. 2. That Prince Ferdinand was willing to support Russia in this way by any means--even bad ones. 3. That the Princes of Montenegro and Bulgaria were co-operating. Shortly afterwards Ferdinand of Bulgaria, Nikola of Montenegro, the Russian Minister and the Bulgarian diplomatic agent to Cetinje all met at Abbazia. And Ferdinand is reported to have promised Nikola the support of his army to overthrow the Obrenovitches with a view to finally uniting Montenegro, Serbia, Bosnia and the Herzegovina into one state with Nikola as head. Nikola began to sow the ground by starting a newspaper which attacked Austrian policy in Bosnia severely. This is a most important turning point in Balkan history, and we shall see many results. Mr. J. D. Bourchier, whose knowledge of Bulgarian affairs is unrivalled, has further told me that not only did Montenegro and Bulgaria work together for a long while, but Bulgaria also supplied Montenegro with much money--she was, in fact, another of the many States who have put money into Montenegro--and lost it. Things soon began to move. Prince Nikola got in touch with the Radical party in Serbia and they began to prepare the downfall of the Obrenovitches. Bulgaria refortified her Serbian frontier. The Narodni Listy of Prague described Prince Nikola as the only true Serb upon a throne. King Alexander proposed at this time to visit Queen Victoria, but was informed by Lord Salisbury that Her Majesty's health had already obliged her to decline other visits and she was therefore unable to receive him. The Serb Government then complained that Queen Victoria had conferred a high Order on Prince Nikola, who was but a vassal of Russia, and had given nothing to the King of Serbia. Some papers even declared she had shown preference to Nikola precisely on account of his pro-Russian tendencies. Russia showed her feelings plainly. The Tsar at a reception spoke sharply to the Serbian Minister and ignored the new Serbian military attache who had come to be presented. Tension between Serbia and Montenegro was now acute. Large numbers of Montenegrins had been emigrating into Serbia attracted by the better livelihood to be obtained. The Serb Government in October 1898 formally notified Montenegro that this immigration must cease. No more land was available for Montenegrins. The Magyar Orsyagu went so far as to say "Montenegrin agents wander over Serbia with their propaganda and Serbia has therefore forbidden the further settlement of Montenegrins in Serbia." Pashitch again came to the fore and was sentenced to nine months' imprisonment for publishing an offensive letter to the ex-King Milan. And in November a plot, alleged to be Bulgaro-Montenegrin, against Milan, was discovered. Russia was furious that Milan, in spite of these warnings, remained in Serbia. And in July 1899 he was fired at and slightly wounded. Milan insisted on martial law being proclaimed and many arrests were made. The would-be assassin was a young Bosnian--Knezhevitch. The Times spoke of the conspiracy as a Russo-Bulgarian one. It is stated to have been planned in Bucarest by Arsene Karageorgevitch and a Russian agent. Pashitch, who since 1888 had been in close connection with the Karageorges, was accused of complicity and Milan insisted on his execution. His guilt was by no means proved and he was finally sentenced to five years' imprisonment, but at once pardoned by Alexander. In reply he telegraphed, "I hasten in a moment so happy and so solemn for my family, to lay before your Majesty my sincere and humble gratitude for the very great mercy which you, Sire, have shown me from the height of your throne. I declare to you, Sire, that I will, in future . . . give my whole soul to strengthening that order in the State which your Majesty introduced in 1897, from which, thanks to your distinguished father, King Milan, as commander-in-Chief of the Army, the country has derived so much benefit." He further promised to put the remainder of his life to the exclusive service of King Alexander and his country, and ends with, "Long live the hope of the Serb nation, your Majesty our Lord and King Alexander!" signed, "The most sincere and devoted servant of the House of Obrenovitch and the throne of your Majesty, Nikola Pashitch." This amazing telegram caused consternation in Russia. And well it might. The annals of crime scarcely contain a more gross example of perjury. We now enter upon the last act of the sordid drama. For several years Alexander had kept a mistress, Madame Draga Maschin, nee Lungevitza, the widow of a Serbian officer. She was a handsome woman, considerably older than Alexander, and possessed such a hold over him that the more credulous of the Serbs--including an ex-Minister to the Court at St. James's--believed that she had bewitched him by means of a spell made by a gypsy woman who had chopped some of Draga's hair fine and made a mixture which she put into Alexander's food. Only by magic, I have been assured, could such results have been obtained. Alexander "was crazy about her." The Serbs are not particular about morals by any means. But this liaison was a national misfortune Especially to all supporters of the Obrenovitches. Not only under these circumstances could there be no legitimate heir to the throne but a matrimonial alliance with one of the Great Powers was desired by the country. By 1899 the situation had become acute. The spectacle of Alexander waiting in the street till Draga chose to admit him was a national scandal. He was repeatedly approached on the subject, both by his father and the nation, but Draga held him in a firm grip. Enmeshed as he knew he was in hostile intrigues, surrounded by spies and traitors, and himself a fool at best, maybe the luckless youth regarded her indeed as the one human creature for whom he had any affection or trust. Be that as it may Alexander, under her influence, promised his father and Vladan Georgevitch that he would marry if a suitable match could be arranged. He persuaded them to leave the country to visit a foreign Court with this object, and so soon as they had gone he publicly and formally announced his betrothal to Draga, and informed his father of the fact by letter. Milan, horrified, replied that the dynasty would not survive the blow, and that even a mere lieutenant would scorn such a match. The Russian Minister Mansurov, however, called at once to offer his congratulations to Alexander, and called also upon Draga. It has even been suggested that Russia arranged the affair, and that Draga was her tool. This is, however, improbable. It was more likely the achievement of an ambitious and most foolish woman. But that Russia jumped at it as the very best means of compassing Alexander's ruin cannot be doubted, for no less a person than the Tsar accepted the post of Kum (Godfather) at the wedding, thus publicly announcing his approval of the marriage at which he was represented by a proxy, when it was celebrated at Belgrade shortly afterwards. Alexander never saw either of his parents again. Milan resigned the command of the army and retired to Austria and his stormy and variegated career came to an end in the following year. He was only forty-seven at the time of his death, but had compressed into those years an amount of adventure unusual even in the Balkans. Alexander's marriage, as doubtless foreseen by Russia, soon proved disastrous. Draga, having achieved her ambition and mounted the throne, showed none of the ability of Theodora. Clever enough to captivate the feeble-minded Alexander, she was too stupid to realize that her only chance lay in gaining the popularity of the people who were none too well disposed. With incredible folly, before in any way consolidating her position, she formed a plot worthy only of a second-rate cinematograph, pretended pregnancy and planned to foist a "supposititious child" upon the nation. A plan, foredoomed by its folly to failure, which brought down on her the contempt and ridicule not only of Serbia, but of all Europe. Such was the history of Serbia up to the date when I plunged into it and found it on the verge of a crisis. CHAPTER SEVEN 1903 AND WHAT HAPPENED For Leagues within a State are ever pernicious to Monarchic. Early in 1903 I received an invitation to stay with certain of the partisans of the Karageorgevitches in Serbia. The "something" that was to happen had not yet come to pass. My sister wished to travel with me, and my experiences of last year were not such as to lead me to take her to Serbia. One takes risks without hesitation when alone, into which one cannot drag a comrade. We went to Montenegro. It was hot even at Cetinje. We were resting in one of the back bedrooms of the hotel on the afternoon of June 11, when there came a loud knocking at the door and the voice of Ivan, the waiter, crying "telegramme, telegramme." We jumped up at once, fearing bad news, and Stvane cried excitedly as I opened the door, "The King and Queen of Serbia are both dead!" My brain re-acted instantly. The "something" had happened, the crisis had come. Without pausing a minute to reflect, I said: "Then Petar Karageorgevitch will be King!" "No, no," cried Ivan; "Every one says it will be our Prince Mirko!" "No," said I decidedly, for I was quite certain, "It will not be Mirko"; and I asked "How did they die?" "God knows," said he; "some say they quarrelled and one shot the other and then committed suicide. And it will be Mirko, Gospodjitza. There was an article in the paper about it only the other day." He ran off and fetched a paper. I regret now that I took no note what paper it was, but it certainly contained an article naming Mirko as heir to the Serb throne, supposing Alexander to die without issue. Cetinje was excited as never before. Ordinarily, it lived on one telegram a day from the Correspondenz Bureau. Now the boys ran to and fro the telegraph office and bulletins poured in. One of the earliest stated that the King and Queen had died suddenly, cause of death unknown, but bullet wounds found in the bodies. Later came full details. According to Belgrade papers a revolution had been planning for three months and there were secret committees all over the country; that the decision to slaughter both King and Queen had been taken by the Corps of Officers at Belgrade, and the work entrusted to the 6th Infantry Regiment; that the band of assassins gained access to the Palace at 11 p.m.; and, as the King refused to open the door of his bedroom, it was blown in by Colonel Naumovitch with a dynamite cartridge the explosion of which killed its user. What followed was a shambles. The bodies of the victims, still breathing, but riddled with bullets, were pitched from the window. Draga, fortunately for herself, expired at once. But the luckless Alexander lingered till 4 a.m. According to current report the assassins, drunk with wine and blood, fell on the bodies and defiled them most filthily, even cutting portions of Draga's skin, which they dried and preserved as trophies. An officer later showed a friend of mine a bit which he kept in his pocket book. Alexander was a degenerate. His removal may have been desirable. But not even in Dahomey could it have been accomplished with more repulsive savagery. And the Russian Minister, whose house was opposite the Konak, calmly watched the events from his window. Having wreaked their fury on the bodies, the assassins rushed to kill also Draga's two brothers, one of whom it was rumoured was to be declared heir to the throne by Alexander. Some seventeen others were murdered that night and many wounded. These details we learned later. The afternoon of the 11th passed with excitement enough. Evening came and we went in to dinner. Upon each table, in place of the usual programme of the evening's performance at the theatre, lay a black edged sheet of paper informing us that the Serbian travelling company then playing in Cetinje "in consequence of the death of our beloved Sovereign King Alexander" had closed the theatre till further notice. The tourist table was occupied solely by my sister and myself; the diplomatic one solely by Mr. Shipley, who was temporarily representing England, and Count Bollati, the Italian Minister. Dinner passed in complete silence. I was aching to have the opinion of the exalted persons at the other table on the startling news, but dared not broach so delicate a subject. The end came however. The servants withdrew and Count Bollati turned to me and said suddenly: "Now, Mademoiselle, you know these countries What do you think of the situation?" "Petar Karageorgevitch will be made King." "People here all say it will be Mirko," said Mr. Shipley. Count Bollati maintained it would be a republic. I told them the facts I had learned in Serbia, and said that Petar was practically a certainty. They were both much interested. "In any case," said Mr. Shipley, "I should advise you to say nothing about it here. They are all for Mirko and you may get yourself into trouble." "I have never seen them so excited," put in the Count. "You are too late," said I; "I've told them already, Mirko has not a chance. He had better know the truth. You will see in a few days." Both gentlemen expressed horror at the crudity of my methods. As a matter of fact a good deal of international misunderstanding could be avoided if the truth were always blurted out at once. The Italian thought I was stark mad. The Englishman, having a sense of humour, laughed and said, as I well recollect: "Your mission in life seems to be to tell home truths to the Balkans. It is very good for them. But I wonder that they put up with it." Both gentlemen commented on the grim matter-of-factness of the telegrams. "Business carried on usual during the alterations," said Bollati. His blood was badly curdled by the fact that when he was in Belgrade he was well acquainted with Colonel Mashin, the ill-fated Draga's brother-in-law, who--according to the telegrams--had finished her off with a hatchet. "And I have shaken hands with him!" said Bollati, disgustedly. Mr. Shipley suggested that as I had first hand information I had better write an article or two for the English papers; which I did at once. "It is an ill wind that blows nobody any good." I had written my first Balkan book and hawked it unsuccessfully round the publishers, who told me that as nobody in England took the faintest interest in the Balkans, they could not take it, though they kindly added that as travels went it was not so bad. But the assassination of a King appealed at once to the great heart of the British people and I sold that book as an immediate result. This, by the way. I came down early next morning to post the articles written overnight, and found a whole crowd of officers and intelligentsia (for in no land are these necessarily the same) around the hotel door. Vuko Vuletitch, the hotelier, in his green, red-embroidered coat, was haranguing them from the doorstep with the latest telegram in his hand. Loud and lively discussion filled the air. Vuko waved his hand as I approached. "Here," he said, "is the Gospodjitza who says Petar Karageorgevitch will be King." I repeated my belief cheerfully: "Your man is elected!" cried Vuko, holding up the telegram. The news had arrived. Mirko's hopes were hopelessly dashed. The accuracy of my information caused a small sensation and I acquired a great reputation for political knowledge. Vuko never failed to ask me in future what I made of the situation. It was the morning of the 12th when this news came in. Officially, Petar was not elected till the 15th, and then not by a really legal method. The military gang having chosen him, summoned a Parliament which had already been legally dissolved and was therefore non-existent, and caused it to ratify the choice. Whence it has been maintained by many that King Petar never was legally elected. The 12th, 13th, and 14th passed quietly, though there was a certain air of disappointment. More details came in. Murder is bound to be unlovely. This one was peculiarly so. One fact was prominent. And that was that although many persons expressed horror of the methods and condemned the treachery of officers who had sworn fealty, yet Cetinje as a whole regarded the affair as a blessing. Not only was the populace pleased, but, with childish ignorance of the Western point of view (and at that time West Europe was really very fairly civilized), actually expected Europe to rejoice with them. It was a cleansing of the Temple; a casting out of abominations. And so ready was every one with a candidate for the throne that it was impossible not to suspect that there had been foreknowledge of the event. Subsequent enquiry through persons connected with the post office revealed to me the fact that a most unusual amount of cypher telegrams had been buzzing between Belgrade and Cetinje immediately before the bloody climax. Petar Karageorgevitch, we learnt by telegram, was dwelling in a "modest apartment" in Geneva, and was quite unable to furnish journalists with any information. The Paris Havas found Bozhidar Karageorgevitch more communicative and published an interview in which he pleasantly stated that the event had caused him no surprise as he had foreseen it ever since the marriage with Draga. On the 14th I drove down to Cattaro with my sister to see her off by steamer. Cattaro, as usual in the summer, lay panting at the water's edge. No more news; any amount of gossip; the Petrovitches were tottering, said some; Prince Mirko had lately fought a duel upon Austrian territory with his brother, Prince Danilo; they would certainly fight for the throne. The Austrian papers were full of "digs" at the Petrovitches. I arrived back at Cetinje on the evening of the 15th to find it beflagged and rows of tallow candles stuck along my bedroom window for the coming illuminations. A telegram had announced the election by the Shkupstina of "our son-in-law" and his accession had already been celebrated by a service at the Monastery Church and a military parade. "Bogati!" cried Vuko to me, "you are better informed than all the diplomatists." He added that there was to be a gala performance at the theatre. I flew to the Zetski Dom. Not a seat was to be had. "If you don't mind a crowd," said the ever-obliging Vuko, "you can come into my box." And he hurried up dinner that we might all be in time. The diplomatic table complimented me on having "spotted the winner," and on either table lay a festive programme informing us that the Serbian theatrical company, which had abruptly shed its mourning, was giving a gala performance "in honour of the accession of our beloved King Petar." The theatre was packed from roof to floor. The performance opened with a tableau--a portrait of Petar I, bewreathed and beflagged. A speech was made. There were shouts of "Zhivio!" ("Long life to him!" an eminently suitable remark under the circumstances). The whole house cheered. I felt like an accessory after the act. Up in the Royal Box, the only representatives of the reigning house, sat Prince Mirko and his wife. I watched his stony countenance. But for the devil and Holy Russia, we might have been shouting "Zhivio Kralj Mirko!" I wondered if it hurt badly and felt sorry for him, for I have been ploughed in an exam, myself. We were a tight fit in our box. Gazivoda, head of the police at Podgoritza and brother-in-law to Vuko, was there. He, too, was assassinated a few years afterwards. And there was a crowd of Vuko's pretty daughters. The eldest, still a pupil at the Russian Girls' School (Russia Institut) was shuddering with horror at the crime. "Poor Queen, poor Queen!" she muttered at intervals, "she was still alive when they threw her from the window. If I had been there I would have wept on her grave." She was but fifteen, and it was her initiation into those Balkan politics in which, as Madame Rizoff, she was herself later to play a part. We shouted our last "Zhivio!" The play was over. Petar was King and the Near East had entered upon a new path which led as yet none knew whither. I noted in my diary, "Will the army, now that it has taken the bit between its teeth, be more than King Petar can manage?" In truth no greater curse can befall a land than to be ruled by its own army. A nation that chooses to be dictated to by its military has sunk low indeed. Cetinje showed signs of relapsing into dullness. I started on a tour up country. The country I have described elsewhere, and will deal now only with the political situation. There were no roads then over the mountains and travelling was very severe work. At every halt--for rest in the midday heat, or a cup of black coffee to stimulate me for another two or three hours on horse and on foot--the Serbian murders were the one topic. Boshko, my guide, with the latest news from Podgoritza was in great request and a proud man. Everywhere the crime was approved. The women raged against Draga, even saying "She ought to lie under the accursed stone heap!"--a reminiscence of the fact that stoning to death was actually inflicted in Montenegro in the old days, upon women for sexual immorality. Vuk Vrchevitch records a case as late as 1770. And in quite recent times a husband still, if he thought fit, would cut off the nose of his wife if he suspected her of infidelity. No man, it was explained to me cheerfully, was ever likely to make love to her again after that. West Europe was, in 1903, quite ignorant of the state of primitive savagery from which the South Slavs were but beginning to rise. Distinguished scientists travelled far afield and recorded the head hunters of New Guinea. But the ballads of Grand Voyvoda Mirko--King Nikola of Montenegro's father--gloating over slaughter, telling of the piles of severed heads, of the triumph with which they were carried home on stakes and set around the village, and the best reserved as an offering to Nikola himself for the adornment of Cetinje; and the stripping and mutilating of the dead foe, give us a vivid picture of life resembling rather that of Dahomey, than Europe in 1860. In the breast of every human being there is a wolf. It may sleep for several generations. But it wakes at last and howls for blood. In the breast of the South Slav, both Serb and Montenegrin, it has not yet even thought of slumbering. Montenegro approved the crime. It was to lead to "something"--indefinite, mysterious. Serdar Jovo Martinovitch ruled in Kolashin, a strong man then, who rode the clansmen on a strong curb. He had come up there as governor about four years ago on account of the constant fighting, not only on the border, but between the Montenegrin plemena (tribes). The latter he had put a stop to. Thirty years ago he assured me the clans were in a state of savagery. His own life was very Balkan; many women figured in it; and to escape blood-vengeance he had fled--with one of them--to Bulgaria, where he had served long years in the Bulgarian Army; and had returned to Montenegro only after the affair had blown over. Of the Bulgars he spoke in the highest terms. At Andrijevitza, to which he passed me on, great excitement reigned. Some great event was expected at no distant date. I was told that it was now impossible for me to go to Gusinje, but that next year all would be different. That they were well informed about the Bulgar rising which was about to take place in Macedonia I cannot, in the light of what followed, doubt. Prince Danilo's birthday was feted magnificently with barbaric dances by firelight, national songs and an ocean of rakija. We drank to the Prince and wished him soon on the throne of Prizren, a wish which at that time every Montenegrin expected to see soon realized. The reign of the Turk, I was told, was all but over. I remarked that this had been said for a hundred years at least and was told that the end must come some time, and that I should see it soon. Meanwhile, the' authorities of Andrijevitza were extremely anxious to get me to go across the border. Though I was not aware of it at the time, they meant to use me to cover a spy. That the expedition was dangerous I knew. The Ipek district had scarcely been penetrated by a foreigner for fifteen years, and was a forbidden one. The danger I did not mind. My two months' liberty each year were like Judas's fabled visit to the iceberg--but they made the endless vista of grey imprisonment at home the more intolerable. And a bullet would have been a short way out. I made the expedition and gained thereby a reputation for courage which in truth I little deserved. As I was being used for political purposes, though I did not know it, I was, of course, shown only the Great Serbian view of things. The plan was carefully laid. My guide, who was disguised, spoke Albanian and some Turkish. At Berani, our first stopping place, just over the Turkish border, I met the first objectors to the murders--the monks at the very ancient Church of Giurgevi Stupovi and a little company consisting of a wild-looking priest clad as a peasant and with a heavy revolver in his sash, and a couple of schoolmasters very heavily depressed. They, too, had evidently expected "something" to happen soon. I gathered, in fact, that an attack on the Turk had been planned, and now with this revolution on their hands the Serbs would be able to do nothing. In the town, however, I met the nephew of Voyvoda Gavro, then Montenegro's Minister for Foreign Affairs--a decadent type of youth on vacation from Constantinople, where he was at college. For the Montenegrins, though always expressing a hatred of all things Turkish, have never missed an opportunity of sending their sons for Education--gratis--to the enemy's capital. His conversation--and he was most anxious to pose as very "modern"--showed that Constantinople is not a very nice place for boys to go to school in. He was furious with me for daring to criticize the Serbian murders. He said no one but an enemy of the Serb people would do so, and threatened to denounce me to his uncle. Leaving Berani I plunged into Albanian territory. This land, fondly called by the Serbs "Stara Srbija," Old Serbia, was in point of fact Serb only for a short period. The Serbs, or rather their Slav ancestors, poured into the Balkan Peninsula in vast hordes in the sixth and seventh centuries and overwhelmed the original inhabitant, the Albanian. But though they tried hard, they did not succeed in exterminating him. The original inhabitant, we may almost say, never is exterminated. The Albanian was a peculiarly tough customer. He withdrew to the fastnesses of the mountains, fought with his back to the wall, so to speak, and in defiance of efforts to Serbize him, retained his language and remained persistently attached to the Church of Rome. Serbia reached her highest point of glory under Tsar Stefan Dushan. On his death in 1356, leaving no heir capable of ruling the heterogeneous empire he had thrown together in the twenty years of his reign, the rival feudal chieftains of Serbia fought with each other for power and the empire was soon torn to pieces. Albania split off from the mass almost at once, and was a separate principality under the Balsha chiefs. And from that time Albania has never again fallen completely under Serb power. The Turkish conquest crushed the Serbs and the Albanians grew in power. We cannot here detail the history, suffice it to say that in 1679 the Serbs of Kosovo, finding themselves unable to resist the advance of the Albanians and the power of the Turks, evacuated that district. Led by Arsenius, the Serb Patriarch, thousands of families emigrated into Austria, who saved the Serb people. Since then the Albanians had poured down and resettled in the land of their ancestors. From Berani our route lay through Arnaoutluk. We passed through Rugova; nor did I know till afterwards that this was reputed one of the most dangerous districts in Turkish territory and that no European traveller had been that way for some twenty years. There was a rough wooden mosque by the wayside. We halted. The people were friendly enough and some one gave us coffee. I little thought 'that in a few years time the place would be the scene of a hideous massacre by the Montenegrins modelled on the Moslem-slaying of Vladika Danilo. We reached Ipek after some sixteen hours of very severe travel and knocked at the gates of the Patriarchia long after nightfall--the very place whose Bishop had led the retreating Serb population into Austria over two centuries before. My arrival was a thunderbolt, both for the Patriarchia and the Turkish authorities, who had forbidden the entry of strangers into the district and closed the main routes to it, but had never imagined any one would be so crazy as to drop in over the Montenegrin frontier by way of Rugova. The whole district was under military occupation. About thirty thousand Turkish troops were camped in the neighbourhood, and I learnt that a great deal of fighting had recently taken place. Briefly, the position was that for the past two and a half centuries the Albanians had been steadily re-occupying the lands of their Illyrian ancestors and pressing back the small remaining Serb population, and since the time of the Treaty of Berlin had been struggling to wrest autonomy from the Turks and obtain recognition as a nation. The whole of this district had been included in the autonomous Albanian state proposed and mapped out by Lord Goschen and Lord Fitzmaurice in 1880. Ipek, Jakova and Prizren were centres of the Albanian League. The British Government report of August 1880 gives a very large Albanian majority to the whole district. "The Albanians are numerically far superior to the Serbians, who are not numerous in Kosovopolje and the Sanjak of Novibazar. The Albanian population in the vilayet of Kosovo has lately (1880) been still further increased by the accession of many thousands of refugees from districts now, in virtue of the Treaty of Berlin, in Serbian possession and which prior to the late war were exclusively inhabited by descendants of the twelve Greg tribes, which at a remote period emigrated from Upper Albania." A fundamental doctrine of the Great Serb Idea is a refusal to recognize that history existed before the creation of the Serb Empire, or even to admit that Balkan lands had owners before the arrival of the Serbs. Nothing infuriates a "Great Serbian" more than to suggest that if he insists on appealing to history another race has a prior claim to the land, and that in any case the Great Serbia of Stefan Dushan lasted but twenty years. In pursuance of this theory that the greater part of the Balkan Peninsula is the birthright of the Serbs (who only began coming into these lands at the earliest in the fourth century A.D.) the Serbs behaved with hideous brutality to the inhabitants of the lands they annexed in 1878, and swarms of starving and destitute persons were hunted out, a large proportion of whom perished of want and exposure. The hatred between Serb and Albanian was increased a hundredfold, and the survivors and their descendants struggled continuously to gain complete control over the lands still theirs and to regain, if possible, those that they had lost. The adoption of Lord Fitzmaurice's plan would have spared the Balkans and possibly Europe much bloodshed and suffering. When I arrived on the scene in the summer of 1903 the Turks had sent a large punitive expedition to enforce the payment of cattle tax and, at the command of Europe, to introduce a new "reform" policy in Kosovo vilayet. The Albanians were well aware that the so-called reforms meant ultimately the furtherance of Russia's pan-Slav schemes; that so long as even a handful of Serbs lived in a place Russia would claim it as Serb and enforce the claim to the best of her power; that the "reforms" meant, In fact, the introduction of Serb and Russian consulates, the erection of Serb schools and churches under Russian protection, the planting of Serb colonies and ultimate annexation. Russia was actively endeavouring to peg out fresh Serb claims. The Russian Consul at Mitrovitza, M. Shtcherbina, had taken part in a fight against the Albanians and was mortally wounded, it was reported, while he was serving a gun. Russia, in fact, having already made sure of the removal of the pro-Austrian Obrenovitches and being in close touch with Montenegro and Bulgaria was planning another coup in the Balkans. Albania was resisting it. The Turks under pressure from the Powers were striving to smooth matters down sufficiently to stave off the final crash that drew ever nearer. They arrested a number of headmen and exacted some punishment for Shtcherbina's death. Though if a consul chooses to take part in a local fight he alone is responsible for results. I had, in fact, arrived at a critical moment. The Turkish authorities telegraphed all over the country to know what they were to do about me. My Montenegrin guide showed anxiety also and begged me on no account to reveal his origin. From a little hill belonging to the Patriarchia I saw the widespread Turkish camp on the plain. The Igumen and the few monks and visitors gave me the Serb point of view. Because some six centuries ago the Sveti Kralj had been crowned in the church they regarded the land as rightfully and inalienably Serb. They looked forward to the arrival of Russian armies that should exterminate all that was not Serb. Shtcherbina to them was a Christ-like man who had died to save them, and they treasured his portrait. Russia, only the year before, had insisted on planting a Consul at Mitrovitza against the wish of the Turkish Government. Serb hopes had been raised. And it was possible that his presence had in fact caused the fight. They admitted, however, that the Turks were responsible for the state of Albania, for they prohibited the formation of Albanian schools and made progress impossible; an independent Albania would be better. News of the deaths of Alexander and Draga had reached Ipek, but no details, for Serbian papers could only be smuggled in with great difficulty. I gathered that the murders caused some anxiety, for a great movement against the Turks was planned, and owing to the upheaval in Serbia, perhaps Serbia would not now take part. As I was English they believed that the Turks would be obliged to permit me to travel further if I pleased. But they implored me on no account if I went further afield, to take the train as all the railways were shortly to be blown up. Meanwhile the Turkish authorities could not decide what to do about me and called me to the Konak about my passport. There I waited hours. The place was crowded with applicants for permission to travel. Half-starved wretches begged leave to go to another district in search of harvest work and were denied. The Turks were in a nervous terror and doubtless knew a crisis was at hand. As I waited in the crowd a youth called to me across the room and said in French: "It is pity you were not here a week or two ago. You could have gone to Uskub and met all the foreign correspondents. Now they have all gone. I was dragoman to The Times correspondent. He has gone too. They think it is all over and it has not yet begun." He laughed. I was terrified lest any one present should know French. The boy declared they did not. Finally, the Pasha refused me permission to go to Jakova as I had asked. And quite rightly, for fighting was still going on there between the troops and the Albanians. I was allowed only to visit the monastery of Detchani, a few hours' ride distant. Detchani is one of the difficulties in the drawing of a just frontier. Though in a district that is wholly Albanian, it is one of the monuments of the ancient Serb Empire and contains the shrine of the Sveti Kralj, King Stefan Detchanski, who was strangled in 1336 in his castle of Zvechani, it is said, by order of his son who succeeded him as the great Tsar Stefan Dushan, and was in his turn murdered in 1356. St. Stefan Dechansld is accounted peculiarly holy and yet to work miracles. The Church, a fine one in pink and white marble, was built by an architect from Cattaro, and shows Venetian influence. A rude painting of the strangling of Stefan adorns his shrine. I thought of the sordid details of the death of. Serbia's latest King and the old world and the new seemed very close. Except in the matter of armament, things Balkan had changed but little in over five centuries. A Turkish officer and some Nizams were quartered at the monastery, but the few monks and students there seemed oddly enough to have more faith in a guard of Moslem Albanians who lived near. They were expecting shortly the arrival of Russian monks from Mount Athos. Russia was, in fact, planting Russian subjects there for the express purpose of making an excuse for intervention. The young Turkish officer was very civil to me and offered to give me a military escort to enable me to return to Montenegro by another route. My disguised Montenegrin guide who was pledged to hand me over safe and sound to Voyvoda Lakitch at Andrijevitza signalled to me in great anxiety. Each day he remained on Turkish territory he risked detection and the loss of his life. I returned therefore to the Patriarchia, recovered my passport from the Pasha and was given by him a mounted gendarme to ride with me as far as Berani. This fellow, a cheery Moslem Bosniak, loaded his rifle and kept a sharp look out. And a second gendarme accompanied us till we were through the pass. And both vowed that a few months ago they wouldn't have come with less than thirty men; Albanians behind every rock and piff paff, a bullet in your living heart before you knew where you were. They wondered much that I had made the journey with only one old zaptieh. Still more, that I had been allowed to come at all. Berani received me with enthusiasm. Nor had my cheery Turkish gendarme an idea that my guide was a Montenegrin till he took off his fez at the frontier. Then the gendarme slapped his thigh, roared with laughter and treated it as a good joke. The said guide's relief on being once more in his own territory showed clearly what the risks had been for him. Andrijevitza gave us quite an ovation. Countless questions as to the number and position of the Turkish Army were poured out. My guide had fulfilled his task. I was reckoned a hero. What hold the Voyvoda had over the Kaimmakam of Berani I never ascertained. But it was the Voyvoda's letter to the Kaimmakam that got me over the border. All that I gathered was that I had been made use of for political purposes and successfully come through what every one considered a very dangerous enterprise. The same people who had urged me to go now addressed me as "one that could look death in the eyes." Had I met death, what explanation would they have offered to the questions that must have cropped up over the death of a British subject? A number of schoolmasters had gathered in Andrijevitza for their holidays. Many of them were educated in Belgrade and these were especially of the opinion that the murder of Alexander and Draga was a splendid thing for Serbia, and when I said it might bring misfortune were not at all pleased. Even persons who at first said the murder was horrible now said since it was done it was well done. The Voyvoda and the Kapetan told me that every country in Europe had accepted King Petar except England and that the Serb Minister had been sent from London. "England," they declared, "has often been our enemy." They hoped that good, however, would result from my journey. The whole of my return to Cetinje was a sort of triumphal progress. Jovo Martinovitch, the Serdar at Kolashin, was delighted to hear of the Ipek expedition, but admitted frankly that he had not dared propose it himself. Voyvoda Lakitch, he said, was well informed and no doubt knew the moment at which it could be safely attempted. Every place I passed through was of opinion something was about to happen soon. Next year the route to Gusinje would be open. At Podgoritza I was received by the Governor Spiro Popovitch and taken for a drive round the town. I arrived at Cetinje in time for dinner and appeared in my usual corner. Mr. Shipley and Count Bollati hailed me at once saying that they thought I was about due. Where had I been? "Ipek," said I. The effect on the diplomatic table was even more startling than upon Montenegro. "But the route is closed!" said every one. I assured them I had nevertheless been through it, and Mr. Shipley said if he had had any idea I was going to attempt such a thing he would have telegraphed all over the place and stopped it. At the same time he admitted, "I rather thought you were up to something," and gave me a piece of excellent advice, which I have always followed, which was "Never consult a British representative if you want to make a risky journey." Really, he was quite pleased about it and crowed over the rest of the diplomatic table, that the British could get to places that nobody else could. I received a note next morning from the Bulgarian diplomatic agent praying for an interview. He had not been long in Cetinje, but later became one of the best known Balkan politicians. For he was Monsieur Rizoff, who, as Bulgar Minister at Berlin, played a considerable part in the Balkan politics of the great war. He was a Macedonian Bulgar born at Resna, a typical Bulgar in build and cast of countenance, and a shrewd and clever intriguer. His excitement over my journey was great and he wanted every possible detail as to what were the Turkish forces and where they were situated. I told him that I understood a rising was planned. And he told me quite frankly that all was being prepared and a rising was to break out in Macedonia so soon as the crops were harvested. I gathered that Rizoff himself was deeply mixed in the plot, an idea which was confirmed later on. For among the papers captured on a Bulgar comitadgi, Doreff, was a letter signed Grasdoff, describing his attempts to import arms through Montenegro, a plan he found impossible owing to the opposition of the Albanians in the territories that must be passed through. He visited Cetinje and reports: "I have spoken with M. Rizoff. With regard to the passage of men and munitions through Montenegro . . . even at the risk of losing his post he is disposed to give his assistance. But owing to the great difficulty the plan would meet in Albania we must renounce it. M. Rizoff hopes to be transferred soon to Belgrade. M. Rizoff having met M. Milakoff (PMilukoff) at Abbazia, has decided to continue the preparations for the organization until public opinion is convinced of the inutility of the (Turkish) reforms or until the term fixed--October 1905." Rizoff, in his talk with me, seemed hopeful of inducing European intervention. Desultory fighting between Bulgar bands and Turkish troops had been going on in Macedonia throughout the year and many Bulgar peasants had fled from Macedonia into Bulgaria where fresh bands were prepared. A bad fight had taken place near Uskub, the Slav peasants of which were then recognized as Bulgars. But the Serbo-Bulgar struggle for Uskub--which, in truth, was then mainly Albanian--had begun. Throughout Turkish territory, Greek, Serb and Bulgar pegged out their claims by the appointment of Bishops. Once a Bishop was successfully planted, a school with Serb, Greek or Bulgar masters at once sprang up and under the protection of one Great Power or another a fresh propaganda was started. Every time a Bishop was moved by one side, it meant "Check to your King!" for the other. English Bishops talked piously of, and even prayed for "our Christian brethren of the Balkans," happily unaware that their Christian brethren were solely engaged in planning massacres or betraying the priests of a rival nationality to the Turks. Serbia had just triumphantly cried "Check" to Bulgaria. In 1902 the Bishop of Uskub had died. The Serbs had had no Bishop in Turkish territory since the destruction of the Serb Bishopric of Ipek in 1766, which was the work of the Greek Patriarch rather than of the Turk. They now put in a claim. The Russian Vjedomosti published a learned article on the Ipek episcopate. The Porte regarded with dread the increasing power of the Bulgars. So did the Greek Patriarch at Constantinople. He of 1766 had aimed at the destruction of Slavdom. He of 1902 thought Serbia far less dangerous than Bulgaria. Firmilian was duly consecrated in June, 1902--a small straw showing that Russia had begun to blow Serbwards. She began to see she could not afford to have a powerful Bulgaria between herself and Constantinople. At Cetinje I gathered that my jpurney to Ipek was mysteriously connected with "something" that was going to happen, and was interested to find that though the populace still heartily approved of the murder of Alexander and were filled with anger and dismay at England's rupture of diplomatic relations, the mighty of the land had realized that in public at any rate, it was as well to moderate their transports. King Nikola had been interviewed by several British and other journalists, had looked down his nose, lamented the wickedness of the Serbs and assured his interviewers that the Montenegrins were a far more virtuous people. Montenegro posed as the good boy of the Serb race, and as the gentlemen in question had not been present either at the thanksgiving in the church nor the gala performance at the Zetski Dom, they accepted the statement. Interviewing is, in fact, as yet the most efficient method by which journalism can spread erroneous reports. I returned to London and read shortly afterwards in The Times that Macedonian troubles had settled down and recollecting that at Ipek I had learnt they had not yet begun I wrote and told The Times so. But it was far too well informed to print this statement. Had it not withdrawn its correspondent? And, as Rizoff had told me, a general Bulgar rising broke out all through Macedonia in August. CHAPTER EIGHT MACEDONIA, 1903-1904 THE Macedonian rising of 1903 was a purely Bulgar movement. As is invariably the case with such risings, it was ill-planned; and untrained peasants and irregular forces never in the long run have a chance against regulars. Its history has been told more than once in detail. I need only say that, instead of revolting simultaneously, one village rose after another, and the Turkish forces rode round, burning and pillaging in the usual fashion of punitive expeditions. Thousands of refugees fled into Bulgaria--thus emphasizing their nationality--and within the Bulgarian frontier organized komitadji bands, which carried on a desultory guerrilla war with the Turkish forces for some time. But it was soon obvious that, unless strongly aided by some outside Power, the rising must fail. The most important point to notice now is that not a single one of these many revolutionaries fled to Serbia, or claimed that they were Serbs. They received arms, munitions and other help from Bulgaria, from Serbia nothing. They were rising to make Big Bulgaria, not Great Serbia. Serbia now claims these people as Serbs. She did not then extend one finger to assist them. Milosh would not help the Greeks to obtain freedom because he did not want a large Greece. Similarly, Serbia and Greece in 1903 did nothing at all to aid the Macedonian revolutionaries. Most of us who have worked in old days to free the people from the Turkish yoke have now recognized what a farce that tale was. Not one of the Balkan people ever wanted to "free" their "Christian brethren" unless there was a chance of annexing them. The Bulgar rising died down as winter came on and acute misery reigned in the devastated districts. In December, as one who had some experience of Balkan life, I was asked to go out on relief work under the newly formed Macedonian Relief Committee. The invitation came to me as an immense surprise and with something like despair. I had had my allotted two months' holiday. I had never before been asked to take part in any public work, and I wanted to go more than words could express. Circumstances had forced me to refuse so many openings. I was now forty, and this might be my last chance. The Fates were kind, and I started for Salonika at a few days' notice, travelling almost straight through. Serbia was depressed and anxious, I gathered from my fellow travellers, as we passed through it. Bishop Firmilian, whose election to the see of Uskub the Serbs had with great difficulty obtained in June 1902, had just died. The train was full of ecclesiastics going to his funeral at Uskub. Russia had aided his election very considerably. It had coincided with Russia's support of Petar Karageorgevitch to the throne of Serbia, and all was part of Russia's new Balkan plans in which Serbia was to play a leading role. Petar was not received by Europe. Firmilian was dead. Serbia was anxious. They buried Firmilian on Christmas Day in the morning, dreading the while lest they were burying the bishopric too, so far as Serbia was concerned--and I reached Salonika that night. The tale of the relief work I have told elsewhere. I will now touch only on the racial questions. In Monastir I tried to buy some Serb books, for I was hard at work studying the language, and had a dictionary and grammar with me. Serbian propaganda in Monastir was, however, then only in its infancy, and nothing but very elementary school books were to be got. The Bulgars had a big school and church. If any one had suggested that Monastir was Serb or ever likely to be Serb, folk would have thought him mad--or drunk. The pull was between Greek and Bulgar, there was no question of the Serbs. There was a large "Greek" population, both in town and country, but of these a very large proportion were Vlachs, many were South Albanians, others were Slavs. Few probably were genuine Greeks. But they belonged to the Greek branch of the Orthodox Church, and were reckoned Greek in the census. Those Slavs who called themselves Serbs, and the Serb schoolmasters who had come for propaganda purposes, all went to the Greek churches. As for the hatred between the Greek and Bulgar Churches--it was so intense that no one from West Europe who has not lived in the land with it, can possibly realize it. The Greeks under Turkish rule had been head of the Orthodox Christians. True to Balkan type, they had dreamed only of the reconstruction of the Big Byzantine Empire, and had succeeded, by hooks and crooks innumerable, in suppressing and replacing the independent Serb and Bulgar Churches. But Russia, when she began to scheme for Pan-Slavism, had no sympathy with Big Byzantium, and was aware that when you have an ignorant peasantry to deal with, a National Church is one of the best means for producing acute Nationalism. Under pressure from Russia, who was supported by other Powers--some of whom really believed they were aiding the cause of Christianity--the Sultan in 1870 created by firman the Bulgarian Exarchate. Far from "promoting Christianity" the result of this was that the Greek Patriarch excommunicated the Exarch and all his followers, and war was declared between the two Churches. They had no difference of any kind or sort as regards doctrine, dogma, or ceremonial. The difference was, and is, political and racial. Never have people been more deluded than have been the pious of England about the Balkan Christians. In Montenegro I had heard all the stock tales of the Christian groaning under the Turkish yoke, and had believed them. I learnt in Macedonia the strange truth that, on the contrary, it was the Christian Churches of the Balkans that kept the Turk in power. Greek and Serb were both organizing komitadjis bands and sending them into Macedonia, not to "liberate Christian brethren"--no. That was the last thing they wanted. But to aid the Turk in suppressing "Christian brethren." I condoled with the Bulgar Bishop of Ochrida on the terrible massacre of his flock by the Turks. He replied calmly that to him it had been a disappointment. He had expected quite half the population to have been killed, and then Europe would have been forced to intervene. Not a quarter had perished, and he expected it would all have to be done over again. "Next time there will be a great slaughter. All the foreign consuls and every foreigner will be killed too. It is their own fault." Big Bulgaria was to be constructed at any price. I suggested that, had the Bulgars risen in 1897 when the Greek made war on the Turk, the whole land could have been freed. He replied indignantly, "I would rather the land should remain for ever under the Turk than that the Greeks should ever obtain a kilometre." Later I met his rival, the Greek Bishop. He, too, loudly lamented the suffering of the wretched Christian under the Turkish yoke. To him I suggested that if Greece aided the Bulgar rising the Christian might now be freed. The mere idea horrified him. Sooner than allow those swine of Bulgars to obtain any territory he would prefer that the land should be for ever Turkish. Such was the Christianity which at that time was being prayed for in English Churches. Bulgars came to me at night and begged poison with which to kill Greeks. Greeks betrayed Bulgar komitadjis to the Turkish authorities. The Serbs sided with the Greeks. They had not then the smallest desire "to liberate their Slav brethren in Macedonia." No. They were doing all they could to prevent the Bulgars liberating them. Of Serb conduct a vivid picture is given by F. Wilson in a recently published book on the Serbs she looked after as refugees during the late war. She gives details taken down from the lips of a Serbian schoolmaster, who describes how he began Serb propaganda in Macedonia in 1900. "We got the children. We made them realize they were Serbs. We taught them their history. . . . Masters and children, we were like secret conspirators." When the Bulgars resisted this propaganda he describes how a gang of thirty Serbs "met in a darkened room and swore for each Serb killed to kill two Bulgars." Lots were drawn for who should go forth to assassinate. "We broke a loaf in two and each ate a piece. It was our sacrament. Our wine was the blood of the Bulgarians." A small Serb school had recently been opened in Ochrida, and I was invited there to the Feast of St. Sava. The whole Serb population of Ochrida assembled. We were photographed together. Counting the Greek priest, the schoolmaster and his family, who were from Serbia, and myself, we were a party of some fifty people. Ochrida had a very mixed population. More than half were Moslems, most of them Albanians. Of the Christians the Bulgars formed the largest unit, but there were many Vlachs. These were reckoned as Greeks by the Greeks, but were already showing signs of claiming their own nationality. The Serbs were by far the smallest group, so small in fact as to be then negligible. The Kaimmakam was an Albanian Moslem, Mehdi Bey, who kept the balance well under very difficult circumstances, and to-day is one of the leading Albanian Nationalists. He asserted always that Ochrida should, of right, belong to Albania. Albanian it was indeed considered until the rise of the Russo-Bulgar movement. As late as 1860 we find the Lakes of Ochrida and Presba referred to as the Albanian Lakes by English travellers. Through the winter of 1903-4 trouble simmered, arrests were made, murders occurred. I learnt the ethics of murder, which, in Macedonia, were simply: "When a Moslem kills a Moslem so much the better. When a Christian kills a Christian it is better not talked about, because people at home would not understand it; when a Christian kills a Moslem it is a holy and righteous act. When a Moslem kills a Christian it is an atrocity and should be telegraphed to all the papers." In February 1904 the Russo-Japanese quarrel, which had been for some time growing hotter, burst into sudden war, and the whole complexion of Balkan affairs changed. At the beginning the Bulgar leaders took it for granted that Russia was invincible, and anticipated speedy and complete victory for her. They were also supplied with false news, and refused to credit at first any Russian defeat. The Bishop of Ochrida was furious when I reported to him the sinking of the Petropalovski, and fiercely declared that the war was in reality an Anglo-Russian one, and that Japan was merely our tool. When riding on relief work among the burnt villages it was easy to learn the great part Russia had taken in building up the Bulgar rising in Macedonia. The same tale was told in almost each. Once upon a time, not so very long ago, a rich, noble and generous gentleman had visited the village. He was richer than you could imagine; had paid even a white medjid for a cup of coffee; had called the headmen and the priest together and had asked them if they would like a church of their own in the village. And in due time the church had been built. Followed, a list of silver candlesticks, vestments, etc., presented by this same nobleman--the Russian Consul. The Turks had looted the treasures. Could I cause them to be restored? Sometimes the Consul had had an old church restored. Sometimes he had given money to establish a school. Always he stood for the people as something almost omnipotent. In August M. Rostovsky, the Russian Consul at Monastir, had been murdered. There was nothing political in the affair. The Russian had imagined the land was already his, and that he was dealing with humble mouzhiks. He carried a heavy riding-whip and used it when he chose. I was told by an eye-witness that on one occasion he so savagely flogged a little boy who had ventured to hang on behind the consular carriage that a Turkish gendarme intervened. One day he lashed an Albanian soldier. The man waited his opportunity and shot Rostovsky dead on the main road near the Consulate. Russia treated the murder as a political one, and demanded and obtained apology and reparation of the Turkish Government. The Consul's remains were transported to the coast with full honours. All this for a Russian Consul in Turkey. Truly one man may steal a horse and another not look over a fence. Russia mobilized when Austria insisted on enquiry into the murder of an Archduke. So well was Rostovsky's funeral engineered that the native Slav peasants looked on him as a martyr to the sacred Slav cause, not as a man who had brought his punishment on himself. Russia was not, however, the only Power in Monastir. It seethed with consuls. And the most prominent was Krai, the Austrian Consul-General, a very energetic and scheming man who "ran" Austria for all she was worth, and was a thorn in the side of the British Consul, whom he endeavoured to thwart at every turn. He persuaded the American missionaries, who were as innocent as babes about European politics, though they had passed thirty years in the Balkan Peninsula, that he and not the Englishman could best forward their interests, and they foolishly induced the American Government to transfer them and their schools to Austrian protection. And he pushed himself to the front always, declaring that he had far more power to aid the relief work and trying to make the English consult him instead of their own representative. This annoyed me, and I therefore never visited him at all. Up country among the revolted villages it was clear that the luckless people had been induced to rise by the belief that, as in 1877, Russia would come to their rescue! But as time passed, and Russia herself realized that the Japanese were a tough foe, it became more and more apparent that no further rising would take place in the spring. The Balkan Orthodox Lenten fast is so severe that a rising before Easter was always improbable. This Easter would see none.. I remembered with curious clearness the words of the Pole who gave me my first Serbian lessons. "Russia is corrupt right through. If there is a war--Russia will be like that!" and he threw a rag of paper into the basket scornfully. His has been a twice true prophecy. The Bulgarian Bishop of Ochrida still believed firmly in Russia's invincibility. Furious when I refused to have cartridges, etc., hidden in my room--which the Turks never searched--he turned on me and declared that England was not a Christian country and would be wiped out by Holy Russia, who had already taken half Japan and would soon take the rest and all India too. By the middle of March I was quite certain no rising would take place. The Foreign Office in London still expected one, and notified all relief workers up country to wind up work and return. The others did, but I stayed and managed to ride right through Albania. CHAPTER NINE. ALBANIA "Where rougher climes a nobler race displayed."--BYRON. Study of the Macedonian question had shown me that one of the most important factors of the Near Eastern question was the Albanian, and that the fact that he was always left out of consideration was a constant source of difficulty. The Balkan Committee had recently been formed, and I therefore decided to explore right through Albania, then but little known, in order to be able to acquire first-hand information as to the aspirations and ideas of the Albanians. Throughout the relief work in Macedonia we had employed Albanians in every post of trust--as interpreters, guides, kavasses and clerks. The depot of the British and Foreign Bible Society at Monastir was entirely in Albanian hands. The Albanian was invaluable to the Bible Society, and the Bible Society was invaluable to the Albanians. Albania was suffering very heavily. Every other of the Sultan subject races had its own schools--schools that were, moreover, heavily subsidized from abroad. The Bulgarian schools in particular were surprisingly well equipped. Each school was an active centre of Nationalist propaganda. All the schoolmasters were revolutionary leaders. All were protected by various consulates which insisted on opening new schools and protested when any were interfered with. Only when it was too late to stop the schools did the Turks perceive their danger. First came the school, then the revolution, then foreign intervention--and another piece of the Turkish' Empire was carved off. This had happened with Serbia, Greece and Bulgaria. The Turks resolved it should not happen in the case of Albania. Albania was faced by two enemies. Not only the Turk dreaded the uprising of Albania, but Russia had already determined that the Balkan Peninsula was to be Slav and Orthodox. Greece as Orthodox might be tolerated. No one else. The Turkish Government prohibited the printing and teaching of the Albanian language under most severe penalties. Turkish schools were established for the Moslem Albanians, and every effort made to bring up the children to believe they were Turks. In South Albania, where the Christians belong to the Orthodox Church, the Greeks were encouraged to found schools and work a Greek propaganda. The Turks hoped thus to prevent the rise of a strong national Albanian party. The Greek Patriarch went so far as to threaten with excommunication any Orthodox Albanian who should use the "accursed language" in church or school. In North Albania, where the whole of the Christians are Catholics, the Austrians, who had been charged by Europe with the duty of protecting the Catholics, established religious schools in which the teaching was in Albanian, and with which the Turkish Government was unable to interfere. The Jesuits, under Austrian protection, established a printing press in Scutari for the printing in Albanian of religious books. But this movement, being strictly Catholic, was confined to the North. It was, moreover, initiated with the intent of winning over the Northern Christians to Austria, and was directed rather to dividing the Christians from the Moslems and to weakening rather than strengthening the sense of Albanian nationality. The results of this we will trace later. None of these efforts on the part of Albania's enemies killed the strong race instinct which has enabled the Albanian to survive the Roman Empire and the fall of Byzantium, outlive the fleeting mediaeval Empires of Bulgar and Serb, and finally emerge from the wreck of the mighty Ottoman Empire, retaining his language, his Customs and his primitive vigour--a rock over which the tides of invasion have washed in vain. When threatened with loss of much Albanian territory by the terms of the Treaty of Berlin, the Albanians rose in force and demanded the recognition of their rights. There is a popular ballad in Albanian cursing Lord Beaconsfield, who went to Berlin in order to ruin Albania and give her lands to her pitiless enemy the Slav. The Treaty did nothing for Albania, but it caused the formation of the Albanian League and a national uprising by means of which the Albanians retained some of the said lands in spite of the Powers. This induced Abdul Hamid for a short time to relax the ban upon the Albanian language. At once national schools were opened, and books and papers came from Albanian presses. The Sultan, alarmed by the rapid success of the national movement, again prohibited the language. Schoolmasters were condemned to long terms of imprisonment. As much as fifteen years was the sentence that could be, and was, inflicted upon any one found in possession of an Albanian paper, and the Greek priests entered enthusiastically into the persecution. But Albanian was not killed. Leaders of the movement went to Bucarest, to Sofia, to Brussels, to London, and set to work. With much difficulty and at great personal risk books and papers published abroad were smuggled into Albania by Moslem Albanian officials, many of whom suffered exile and confiscation of all their property in consequence. But there was another means by which printed Albanian was brought into the country. During the short interval when the printing of Albanian had been permitted, a translation of the Bible was made for the British and Foreign Bible Society. This Society had the permission of the Turkish Government to circulate its publications freely. When the interdict on the language was again imposed a nice question arose. Had the Society the right to circulate Albanian Testaments? The Turkish Government had not the least objection to the Gospels--only they must not be in Albanian. A constant war on the subject went on. The director of the Bible Depot in Monastir was an Albanian of high standing both as regards culture and energy. Grasping the fact that by means of these publications an immense national propaganda could be worked, he spared no pains, and by carefully selecting and training Albanian colporteurs, whose business it was to learn in which districts the officials were dangerous, where they were sympathetic, and where there were Nationalists willing themselves to risk receiving and distributing books, succeeded to a remarkable degree. The Greeks, of course, opposed the work. A Greek Bishop is, in fact, declared to have denounced the dissemination of "the New Testament and other works contrary to the teaching of the Holy and Orthodox Church." Nevertheless it continued. It was with one of the Society's colporteurs that I rode through Albania. I was thus enabled everywhere to meet the Nationalists and to observe how very widely spread was the movement. The journey was extremely interesting, and as exciting in many respects as Borrow's Bible in Spain. Leaving Monastir in a carriage and driving through much of the devastated Slav area I was greatly struck on descending into the plain land by Lake Malik to see the marked difference in the type of man that swung past on the road. I saw again the lean, strong figure and the easy stride of the Albanian, the man akin to my old friends of Scutari, a wholly different type from the Bulgar peasants among whom I had been working, and I felt at home. Koritza, the home of Nationalism in the South, was my first halting-place. It was celebrated as being the only southern town in which there was still an Albanian school in spite of Turk and Greek. Like the schools of Scutari, it owed its existence to foreign protection. It was founded by the American Mission. Its plucky teacher, Miss Kyrias (now Mrs. Dako), conducted it with an ability and enthusiasm worthy of the highest praise. And in spite of the fact that attendance at the school meant that parents and children risked persecution by the Turk and excommunication by the Greek priest, yet the school was always full. The girls learned to read and write Albanian and taught their brothers. Many parents told me very earnestly how they longed for a boys' school too. The unfortunate master of the Albanian boys' school, permitted during the short period when the interdiction was removed, was still in prison serving his term of fifteen years. Could not England, I was asked, open a school? Now either a child must learn Greek or not learn to read at all. And the Greek teachers even told children that it was useless to pray in Albanian, for Christ was a Greek, and did not understand any other language. Everywhere it was the same. Deputations came to me begging for schools. Even Orthodox priests, who were Albanian, ventured to explain that what they wanted was an independent Church. Roumania, Serbia, Greece, even Montenegro, each was free to elect its own clergy and to preach and conduct the service in its own language. At Leskoviki and Premeti folk were particularly urgent both for schools and church. Not only among the Christians, but among the Moslems too, there was a marked sense of nationality. A very large proportion of the Moslems of the south were by no means, orthodox Moslems, but were members of one of the Dervish sects, the Bektashi, and as such suspect by the powers, at Constantinople. Between the Bektashi and the Christians there appeared to be no friction. Mosques were not very plentiful. I was assured by the Kaimmakam of Leskoviki that many of the Moslem officials were Bekiashifj and attended mosque only as a form without which they could not hold office. He was much puzzled about Christianity and asked me to explain why the Greeks and | Bulgars, who were both Christian, were always killing each other. "They say to Europe," he said, "that they object to Moslem rule. But they would certainly massacre each other if we went away. What good is this Christianity to them?" I told him I could no more understand it than he did. The Bulgarian rising had had a strong repercussion in Albania. Our relief work was everywhere believed to be a British Government propaganda. Other Powers scattered money for their own purpose in Turkish territory. Why not Great Britain? It was a natural conclusion. Moreover the Bulgars themselves believed the help brought them was from England the Power. And the name Balkan Committee even was misleading. In the Near East a committee is a revolutionary committee, and consists of armed komitadjis. Times innumerable have I assured Balkan people of all races that the Balkan Committee did not run contraband rifles, but they have never believed it. The Albanians everywhere asked me to assure Lord Lansdowne, then Secretary for Foreign Affairs, that if he would only supply them with as much money and as many arms as he had given the Bulgarians they would undertake to make a really successful rising. As for our Albanian testaments, Moslems as well as Christians bought them; and the book of Genesis, with the tale of Potiphar's wife, sold like hot cakes. At Berat, where there was a Greek Consul and a Turkish Kaimmakam, we were stopped by the police at the entrance of the town and all our Albanian books were taken from us. But no objection was made to those in Turkish and Greek. It was the language and not the contents of the book that was forbidden. But there were plenty of Nationalists in the town. It is noteworthy that though our errand was well known everywhere, and people hastened to tell "the Englishwoman" Albania's hopes and fears, not once did any one come to tell me that Albania wanted to be joined to Greece. It was always "Give us our own schools," "Free us from the Greek priest." At Elbasan we found a bale of publications awaiting us, sent from Monastir in anticipation of what would happen at Berat. Here there was a charming old Albanian Mutasarrif, who did all he could to make my visit pleasant and begged me to send many English visitors. He had been Governor of Tripoli (now taken by Italy), and told me that on returning home to Albania after very many years' foreign service he was horrified to find his native land worse used than any other part of the Turkish Empire with which he was acquainted. He was hot on the school question, and declared his intention of having Albanian taught. As for our books we might sell as many as we pleased, the more the better. The little boys of the Moslem school flocked to buy them, and we sold, too, to several Albanians who wore the uniform of Turkish officers. The Albanian periodical, published in London by Faik Bey, was known here. A definite effort was being made at Elbasan to break with the Greek Church. An Albanian priest had visited Rome, and there asked leave to establish at Elbasan a Uniate Church. He was the son of a rich man, and having obtained the assent of Rome returned with the intention of building the church himself, and had even bought a piece of land for it. But leave to erect a church had to be first obtained from the Turkish Government. This he was hoping to receive soon. The Turkish Government, aware that this was part of the Nationalist movement, never granted the permit, though characteristically it kept the question open for a long while. The mountains of Spata near Elbasan are inhabited by a mountain folk in many ways resembling the Maltsors of the north, who preserved a sort of semi-independence. They were classed by the Christians as crypto-Christians. I saw neither church nor mosque in the district I visited. As for religion, each had two names. To a Moslem enquirer he said he was Suliman; to a Christian that he was Constantino. When called on to pay tax, as Christians in place of giving military service, the inhabitants declined on the grounds that they all had Moslem names and had no church. When on the other hand they were summoned for military service they protested they were Christians. And the Turks mostly left them alone. But they were Nationalists, and when the proposal for a Uniate Church was mooted, declared they would adhere to Rome. The news of this having spread, upset the Orthodox Powers to such an extent that a Russian Vice-Consul was sent hurriedly to the spot. The Spata men, however, who were vague enough about religious doctrines, were very certain that they did not want anything Russian, and the Russian who had been instructed to buy them with gold if necessary had to depart in a hurry. It was a district scarcely ever visited by strangers, and my visit gave extraordinary delight. So through Pekinj, Kavaia, Durazzo Tirana and Croia, the city of Skenderbeg and the stronghold now of Bektashism, I arrived at last at Scutari, and was welcomed by Mr. Summa, himself a descendant of one of the mountain clans, formerly dragoman to the Consulate, and now acting Vice-Consul. He was delighted about my journey, and told me he could pass me up into the mountains wherever I pleased. He explained to me that on my former visit, Mr. Prendergast being new to the country had consulted the Austrian Consulate as to the possibility of my travelling in the interior, and that the Austrians who wished to keep foreigners out of the mountains, though they sent plenty of their own tourists there, had given him such an alarming account of the dangers as had caused him to tell me it was impossible. He arranged at once for me to visit Mirdita. The Abbot of the Mirdites, Premi Dochl, was a man of remarkable capacity. Exiled from Albania as a young man for participation in the Albanian league and inciting resistance to Turkish rule and the decrees of the Treaty of Berlin, he had passed his years of exile in Newfoundland and India as a priest, and had learned English and read much. He was the inventor of an excellent system of spelling Albanian by which he got rid of all accents and fancy letters and used ordinary Roman type. He had persuaded the Austrian authorities to use it in their schools, and was enthusiastic about the books that he was having prepared. His schemes were wide and included the translation of many standard English books into Albanian. And he had opened a small school hard by his church in the mountains. His talk was wise. He Was perhaps the most far-seeing of the Albanian Nationalists. We stood on a height and looked over Albania --range behind range like the stony waves of a great sea, sweeping towards the horizon intensely and marvellously blue, and fading finally into the sky in a pale mauve distance. He thrust out his hands towards it with pride and enthusiasm. It was a mistake, he said, now to work against Turkey. The Turk was no longer Albania's worst foe. Albania had suffered woefully from the Turk. But Albania was not dead. Far from it. There was another, and a far worse foe --one that grew ever stronger, and that was the Slav: Russia with her fanatical Church and her savage Serb and Bulgar cohorts ready to destroy Albania and wipe out Catholic and Moslem alike. He waved his hand in the direction of Ipek. "Over yonder," he said, "is the land the Serbs called Old Serbia. But it is a much older Albania. Now it is peopled with Albanians, many of whom are the victims, or the children of the victims, of the Berlin Treaty: Albanians, who had lived for generations on lands that that Treaty handed over to the Serbs and Montenegrins, who drove them out to starve. Hundreds perished on the mountains. Look at Dulcigno--a purely Albanian town, threatened by the warships of the Great Powers, torn from us by force. How could we resist all Europe? Our people were treated by the invading Serb and Montenegrin with every kind of brutality. And the great Gladstone looked on! Now there is an outcry that the Albanians of Kosovo ill-treat the Slavs. Myself I regret it. But what can they do? What can you expect? They know very well that so long as ten Serbs exist in a place Russia will swear it is a wholly Serb district. And they have sworn to avenge the loss of Dulcigno. "The spirit of the nation is awake in both Christian and Moslem. People ask why should not we, like the Bulgars and Serbs, rule our own land? But first we must learn, and organize. We must have time. If another war took place now the Slavs would overwhelm us. We must work our propaganda and teach Europe that there are other people to be liberated besides Bulgars and Serbs. The Turk is now our only bulwark against the Slav invader. I say therefore that we must do nothing to weaken the Turk till we are strong enough to stand alone and have European recognition. When the Turkish Empire breaks up, as break it must, we must not fall either into the hands of Austria nor of the Slavs." And to this policy, which time has shown to have been the wise one, he adhered steadily. He took no part in rising against the Turk, but he worked hard by means of spread of education and information, to attain ultimately the freedom of his country. His death during the Great War is a heavy loss to Albania. I promised him then that I would do all that lay in my power to bring a knowledge of Albania to the English, and that I would work for its freedom. He offered to pass me on to Gusihje, Djakova, or any other district I wished, and to do all in his power to aid my travels But I had already far exceeded my usual holiday, and appeals to me to return to England were urgent. I had to tear myself away from the wilderness and I was soon once more steaming up the Lake of Scutari to Rijeka. CHAPTER TEN. MURDER WILL OUT I ARRIVED in Cetinje with a Turkish trooper's saddle and a pair of saddle-bags that contained some flintlock pistols and some beautiful ostrich feathers given me by the Mutasarrif of Elbasan and not much else but rags. The news that I had come right through Albania excited Cetinje vastly. Every English tourist who wanted to go to Scutari was warned by the Montenegrins that it was death to walk outside the town; that murders took place every day in the bazar; any absurd tale, in fact, to blacken the Albanians. The Montenegrins were not best pleased at my exploit, and full of curiosity. I patched my elbows, clipped the ragged edge of my best skirt, and was then told by Vuko Vuletitch that the Marshal of the Court was waiting below to speak with me. I descended and found the gentleman in full dress. It was a feast day. We greeted one another. "His Royal Highness the Prince wishes to speak with you!" said he with much flourish. "He requests you will name an hour when it is convenient for you to come to the Palace." It was the first time the Prince had noticed me, I was highly amused, and replied: "I can come now if His Royal Highness pleases!" The Marshal of the Court eyed me doubtfully and hesitated. "I can wash my hands," said I firmly, "and that is all; I have no clothes but what I have on." My only other things were in the wash, and I had repaired myself so far as circumstances allowed. The Marshal of the Court returned with the message that His Royal Highness would receive me at once "as a soldier." I trotted obediently off with him. We arrived at the Palace. It was a full-dress day, and the Montenegrins never let slip an occasion for peacocking. The situation pleased me immensely. The Marshal himself was in his very best white cloth coat and silken sash, gold waistcoat, and all in keeping. Another glittering functionary received me and between the two I proceeded upstairs. At the top of the flight is a large full-length looking-glass, and for the first time for four months I "saw myself as others saw me." Between the two towering glittering beings was a small, wiry, lean object, with flesh burnt copper-colour and garments that had never been anything to boast of, and were now long past their prime. I could have laughed aloud when I saw the Prince in full-dress with rows of medals and orders across his wide chest, awaiting me. It is a popular superstition, fostered by newspapers in the pay of modistes, that in order to get on it is necessary to spend untold sums on dress. But in truth if people really want to get something out of you they do not care what you look like. Nor will any costume in the world assist you if you have nothing to say. The Prince conducted me to an inner room, greeted me politely, begged me to be seated and then launched into a torrent of questions about my previous years journey to Ipek. He seemed to think that my life had not been worth a para, and that the Rugova route was impossible. "Do you know, Mademoiselle, that what you did was excessively dangerous?" "Sire," said I, "it was your Montenegrins who made me do it." He made no reply to this, but lamented that for him such a tour was out of the question. And of all things he desired to see the Patriarchia at Ipek and the Church of Dechani and the relics of the Sveti Kralj. He had been told I had secured photographs of these places. If so, would I give him copies? I promised to send him prints from London. He thanked me, and there was a pause. I wondered if this was what I had been summoned for, and if I now ought to go. Then Nikita looked at me and suddenly began: "I think, Mademoiselle, that you are acquainted with my son-in-law, King Petar of Serbia." Dear me, thought I, this is delicate ground. "I have not that honour, Sire," I said. Now how far dare I go? I asked myself. Let us proceed with caution. "I was in Serbia, Sire," I continued boldly, "during the lifetime of the--er--late King Alexander." Nikita looked at me. I looked at Nikita. Then he heaved a portentous sigh, a feat for which his huge chest specially fitted him. "A sad affair, was it not, Mademoiselle?" he asked. And he sighed again. Now or never, thought I, is the time for kite-flying. I gazed sadly at Nikita; heaved as large a sigh as I was capable of, and said deliberately: "Very sad, Sire--but perhaps necessary!" The shot told. Nikita brought his hand down with a resounding smack on his blue-knickerbockered thigh and cried aloud with the greatest excitement: "Mon Dieu, but you are right, Mademoiselle! A thousand times right! It was necessary, and it is you alone that understand. Return, I beg you, to England. Explain it to your Foreign Office--to your politicians--to your diplomatists!" His enthusiasm was boundless and torrential. All would now be well, he assured me. Serbia had been saved. If I would go to Belgrade all kinds of facilities would be afforded me. I was struck dumb by my own success. A reigning Sovereign had given himself away with amazing completeness. I had but dangled the fly and the salmon had gorged it. Such a big fish, too. Nikita, filled with hopes that the result of this interview would be the resumption <of diplomatic relations between England and Serbia, presented me with a fine signed photograph of himself, summoned the Marshal of the Court and instructed him to have it conveyed to the hotel. It was not etiquette, it appeared, for me to carry such a burden myself. The Interview was over. It was abundantly clear that, in spite of all he had said to journalists, the old man heartily approved of the manner of the death of the last of the Obrenovitches, and had been "behind the scenes" of it. I had many subsequent interviews with Nikita, but though I strewed many baits, never again caught him out so completely. Some people think that Foreign Affairs can be successfully carried on by Prime Ministers and Secretaries of State who speak nothing but English. I submit that the above information could never have been extracted through an interpreter. For an interpreter gives the other party time to think. By the end of a week I was back in London. It was not quite a year since the death of Alexander. Nikita had shown plainly that he regarded the event as a very important step in Serb history. And he wanted me to go to Belgrade. But to me the situation was rather obscure. I knew Montenegro was unpopular in Serbia. Perhaps Nikita did not. For purposes of their own the Montenegrins had risked my life --according to their own statements--by sending me to Ipek. True, I did not then set any value whatever on my life, so was not so brave by a long way as they imagined, but all the same they had had no right to do it. If I went to Belgrade at all, it should not be for an unknown purpose and as emissary of Nikita. Meanwhile, King Petar was necessarily entirely in the hands of the Pretorian guard, which had put him on the throne and could send him after Alexander if he did not please them. They soon occupied high positions. Colonel Maschin, who had himself helped kill his sister-in-law Draga, was made head of the General Staff, and Colonel Damian Popovitch, the leader of the gang, who has since become notorious for atrocities, even in the Balkans, was given the command of the Belgrade-Danube Division, and King Petar obediently signed an amended Constitution, which greatly curtailed his own power. An attempt on the part of certain officers to resist the regicides was crushed, and several were imprisoned. Serbia was, and remained, under military rule, the object of which was the reconstruction of Great Serbia. The Serbo-Bulgar question rapidly became acute. Prince Ferdinand met King Petar informally in Nish railway station. In October 1904, King Petar visited Sofia. The visit was a failure. Prince Ferdinand was in favour of an autonomous Macedonia. The Serb Press would not hear of such a thing. Pashitch, then Minister for Foreign Affairs, declared that such an autonomy would injure Serbia and be all in favour of Bulgaria. Simitch, diplomatic agent at Sofia, insisted that under such an autonomy Bulgarian annexation was concealed and should that take place, the Serbs would fight till either Serbia or Bulgaria was destroyed. Both men thus admitted that Macedonia was not Serb. But they wanted Bulgar aid to crush the Albanian, in order that Serbia might take Albanian territory. "Heads I win; tails you lose." Bulgaria was to gain nothing. Serbia meant to be top dog. The Serbian Press attacked Prince Nikola so violently that an indignation meeting was held at Cetinje and the populace crowded outside the palace and shouted "Zhivio." The tug between Petrovitch and Karageorgevitch had begun. The regicides had not ended the Obrenovitches to be baulked by the Petrovitches. A stealthy campaign against Prince Nikola now began, which emanated from Belgrade and had, I am inclined to believe, Russian support. A ludicrous episode was the arrival in London of Prince Albert Ghika, a Roumanian, who announced himself to the Press as a claimant to the Albanian throne, and was taken seriously even by some quite respectable journals. It was indeed bad luck for him that he timed his visit to correspond with my return from Albania, for I was able to state that, far from being accepted by the whole nation, I had never even heard his name mentioned. In a very amusing interview I had with him I ascertained that he did not know a word of the language of his adopted country. His plans were grandiose, and included Constantinople as capital. "Pourquoi pas?" he asked. It would prevent the Great Powers from quarrelling over it, and therefore make for peace! His curled mustachios, his perfumes, his incomparable aplomb, his airs of a "Serene Highness" formed a magnificent stock-in-trade. But even the fact that he offered me a magnificent salary to be Maid of Honour or Lady-in-Waiting (I forget which) at the Court of Albania did not persuade me to espouse his cause, which disappeared into thin air so soon as the newspapers had a fresh sensation. Nevertheless Albert Ghika hung around the back doors of the Balkans for some time. It was only in Albania that he was unknown. CHAPTER ELEVEN. 1905 Coming events cast their shadows before.--CAMPBELL. This holiday was eventful. On the steamer I was addressed politely by an Albanian who had read my name on my bag. He said he had seen me a week before in Venice, and proved it by describing my companions. Said calmly he had purposely shipped on the same boat, knew all about me, but preferred to be known himself as "the Egyptian." He was a storehouse of tales of political intrigue, and yarned till near midnight on the deck as we slid through the phosphorescent sea. Of Ghika and his doings he was well informed. All Ghikas, he said, suffered badly from the same incurable complaint--a hole in the pocket--a disease, alas, common to many other honest men! At any rate Albert Ghika's claim to the Albanian throne had obtained him a rich bride, which was always something. That he really expected to mount that throne was in the highest degree improbable, for he was no fool. "How much has the lady?" I could not enlighten him. "How the English journals accepted him amazes me! But they gave him a reclame enorme. And he had not a sou. Now he has some gold. But no one in Albania knows him, and he has no party there." Followed tales of another "celebrity," Lazarevitch, who claimed descent from Tsar Lazar of Kosovo fame and was, according to "the Egyptian," the finest intriguer in Europe: "not a plot has happened in which he has not had, if not his index, his little finger. He played a large part in the Dreyfus case. And, like Ghika, he has married a rich wife, Only once has he been taken in, and that was by Shaban. You know Shaban? Shaban was really called Dossi. He was employed by Cook in Egypt as a dragoman, and dismissed from that service doubtless for good reasons. He dressed himself in a Gheg costume, got an introduction to Lazarevitch, and said he was an Albanian Bey who wanted to make a Serbo-Albanian alliance against Bulgar pretensions. Lazarevitch jumped at this. The first time he was ever taken in. He gave Shaban several hundred pounds. Shaban had a friend who was a tailor. Faik Bey, who was in London, saw Shaban and denounced him as an impostor. The tailor ran away to Greece with all the money, and was at once arrested there. So Shaban got nothing. Why did the Greeks arrest the tailor? Because of the English gold of course. Probably he was guilty of something or other too. But they would not have troubled about it but for the gold. They got that." He out-Antonied Hope and made Phroso tame compared to the real Balkans. Much more he told and much proved true. But he was obviously a dangerous travelling companion, and when he told me he proposed passing some days with me in the Bocche di Cattaro, I abruptly changed my plan of staying there, hailed a Montenegrin carriage which was waiting on the quay at Cattaro and drove straight to Cetinje. Later, I received from Paris a gilt-edged letter with a Royal crown upon it from Aladri Kastrioti, the elderly and amiable gentleman who claimed descent from Skenderbeg and toyed with the idea of ascending the Albanian throne himself. He had, in fact, a considerable following in the Northern mountains, for the name of Skenderbeg was one to conjure with, and the Turkish Government prohibited the sale of his picture post cards. He wrote that his secretary, "the Egyptian," had reported his success in making my acquaintance and begged that on my return I would meet him in Paris and discuss matters of importance. This invitation I never accepted. Cetinje I found bubbling over Albert Ghika. He had come with such good letters of introduction that the Prince had appointed Matanovitch as a sort of guard of honour to him. But when it became apparent that he meant to use Montenegro as a safe spot whence to make trouble across the border, and even began to scatter picture post cards of the future King and Queen of Albania, he was asked to leave the country. Matanovitch was very much chaffed about his share in the expedition. Orthodox Easter was due. I was told that having had an audience last year it was correct for me to telegraph Easter greetings to Prince Nikola, who was in his winter quarters at Rijeka. In reply came an official intimation that I should call on him at three o'clock next day. I was met by an officer of the Court and taken to the audience. The old man was in the doorway when I arrived, and was very friendly. He was, I fancy, bored to death at Rijeka, and glad of a visitor from the great world outside. He led me into a small room and insisted on my taking a very large chair, evidently his own seat, while he sat down on one much too small for him, and began very vividly to tell me of his first fight at Vuchidol in 1876 and of the great battle of Grahovo where twelve of his relatives had lost their heads. He was very lively, and there was something extraordinarily old-world, even mediaeval, about him. I felt I was in a by-gone century--at latest with Rob Roy. We must eat together he said, and we had an odd meal of ham, hardboiled eggs, bread and weak tea into which he hospitably insisted on putting five large lumps of sugar with his Royal fingers. He pressed me to eat also the wing of a fowl, but as it was but 3 p.m. this was quite impossible for me. So after hoarse house-keeping whispers to his man, a bottle of Marsala was produced and we drank healths. He questioned me about my Albanian experiences and roared with laughter. He said the Albanians would certainly put me to ransom some day, and promised himself to contribute handsomely. He dug in the pockets of his capacious breeches and fished out some beautifully decorated Easter eggs a peasant had just given him, and presented one to me. Of his people he spoke as though they were all little children. He meant well by them. Truly. But so do many parents, who forget their children are grown up. He meant them to go his way, not theirs. A fatal error. He was very anxious to know how much money I had been paid for my book, and was as inquisitive about my pecuniary situation as the most upcountry of his subjects, and hoped the book would bring hosts of wealthy tourists to the land. I stirred him up by telling him that the Albanians intended some day to make a state larger than Montenegro and take back Antivari and Podgoritza. "Let them come!" said the old man stoutly. His eyes twinkled and he laughed while he clasped his revolver, confessing he would not be averse to a little war--but there was Europe to be considered. Meanwhile I was to be sure and go to see Grahova and Vuchidol. After a good three-quarters of an hour's talk he saw me to the door and shouted good-bye from the doorstep. At Nyegushi I engaged as guide one Krsto, recommended me in 1903 at Andrijevitza by a botany professor from Prague, and while our start was preparing went with Kapetan Gjuro Vrbitza and another officer by a track to the mountain's edge whence we could look directly down upon Cattaro. A gun emplacement was made there later. The two Montenegrins amused themselves by hurling stones into Austrian territory--feeling ran then strongly against Austria. For the first time I heard the song: Franz Josef da Bog ti ubio. Ti si strashno zlo uchinio! (Franz Josef, may God strike thee dead. Thou hast wrought terrible evil.) Russia was still madly struggling with Japan. It was the Tsar's own fault, said popular opinion. Prince Nikola had offered to send a large Montenegrin army and he had declined it. Consequently only nineteen volunteers, including two of Krsto's own relatives, had gone to Russia's aid. Otherwise "Portartur" would never have fallen. Krsto's cousin was engineer on one of Rozhdjestvcnski's ships. Every one believed England had tried to Sink them by concealing Japanese torpedo boats among the fishing fleet. They, however, kindly absolved me from complicity in the affair, mainly because I had been to Ipek. France, as Russia's ally, had sprung into high favour and was contemplating the erection of a "nouveau art" Legation. And the new French Minister's little boy put his hands behind his back when introduced to me, and said: "I cannot shake hands with you, Mademoiselle, till you assure me you are not the friend of the Yellow Monkeys." Thus are peace and goodwill taught to children in the "civilized" lands of West Europe. I started for Vuchidol, which the Prince had expressly desired me to visit, by way of Grahovo. Each village knew of my ride to Ipek, and received me with enthusiasm. Each told the same tale. The rising planned to take place throughout the Balkans in 1904 had been stopped by the misfortunes of the Russo-Japanese War. Montenegro was aghast at the duration of the war, and her faith in Russia as a God Almighty was badly shaken. Feeling ran high against Bulgaria, for a rumour, started, it was said, by Chedo Miyatovitch, declared that England had promised Constantinople to Prince Ferdinand, and this would interfere with the reconstruction of Great Serbia, which was to be made at all costs. We little thought then the stupendous price the world would pay for it! There was some dread lest, Russia being now occupied in the Far East, Austria should move. On the way we picked up an old man of the Banyani tribe, over six feet, and hook-nosed. He pointed out landmarks with his long chibouk, carried an old flintlock, and seemed to live in terror of enemies. "Golden pobratim!" he said earnestly to Krsto, "dear brother, listen! My house is but two hours from the frontier. The Austrians can come. Thank God I have this gun! The Tsar of Russia should send plenty of soldiers, then we could live in safety." Nor could we reassure him. He was going to Cetinje to beg the Gospodar to write to the Tsar for troops. "May God slay me, dear brother, but the clanger is great." I stood him a drink and he went tracking over the mountains Cetinje-wards with his antique weapon. We went on through a land the filth and poverty of which Is unimaginable to those who have never left England. The sterile waterless rocks make it impossible to live with any decency. The worst English slum is luxury in comparison. Barely enough water to drink. None to wash in. One day I had nothing but dirty melted snow out of a hole. Vermin swarmed and no one worried about them. "If we had only as many gold pieces as lice," said folk cheerfully, "this would be the richest land in Europe." The population, in truth, was probably better off in Turkish times, when it lived by sheep-stealing and raiding caravans. Montenegro has never been self-supporting, and since frontier raids were stopped the chief trade of the people had been smuggling tobacco and coffee into Austria. Krsto and his relative were keen smugglers, and knew every nook in the Bocche di Cattaro. Now, in return for various works that she was to do, Italy had been given the tobacco monopoly and a duty was imposed. Montenegro was furious. The vigilance of the Austrian police had made it hard enough to earn a living before. This made this worse. Death to the Italians! God slay Austria! And Russia actually looking on and doing nothing. We arrived one evening at Crkvitza, near the Austrian frontier. A dree hole; a han filthy beyond all words; no horse fodder, the Kapetan absent and his secretary drunk; a lonely schoolhouse to which some fifty children descended daily from the surrounding mountains. To spare me the horrors of the han, the schoolmaster kindly offered to put me up. But even his house swarmed with bugs and ticks. I rose very early next morning, saddled and packed, and was about to flee from the place, when the secretary came triumphantly waving a telegram and told me I was under arrest. The drink-fuddled creature, thinking to "cut a dash" during his chief's absence, had wired to the police at Nikshitch, "A man dressed as a woman has come from across the Austrian frontier." The reply said, "Detain him till further orders." The telegraph station was eight hours' march distant, but he had sent some one in haste on horseback. There was a terrible row. The populace was on my side. My British passport was, of course, useless. Krsto thought his honour impugned, and I feared he would shoot. Might I return under armed escort to the village of the telegraph office where they knew me? No. All I was allowed to do was to send a man on foot with a telegram for the Minister for Foreign Affairs and await the reply. So I was interned for nearly twenty-four hours in the han and spent the night in a filthy hole with a man, a boy, a woman, a quantity of pigeons, and swarms of lice and bugs. When the reply came from Voyvoda Gavro saying I was free to go where I pleased, the secretary was flabbergasted. It sobered him, and he was afraid of what he had done. I went on to Vuchidol as I had promised, though the Prince little knew what he was letting me in for. The affair excited Cetinje wildly. Before I left every one had been lamenting that there was now no English Minister in Montenegro. I had been prayed, by Dushan Gregovitch and others, to write to The Times on the subject, to arouse Parliament, and somehow or other get England represented in the country. Now the cry was changed: "God be praised," cried they fervently, "there is no British Minister in Cetinje." "Thanks be to God, there is not even a British Consul." Voyvoda Gavro put his head out of "Foreign Affairs," which was then a cottage in the main street, and shouted for explanations. The dismay was comical. Early next morning an officer pursued me in the street and said the Prince wanted to see me, at once. He was sitting on the top of the steps as he was used to do before the palace was altered, and he too seemed quite overwhelmed with the international complication. Krsto had already given the police a highly coloured account. The secretary of Crkvitza, the Prince hastened to assure me, would be punished. I said that if he were punished the result would be that when a real spy arrived he would Hot be arrested. For me the affair was a mere travel episode, not worth troubling about. Then came the crux. The Prince was terrified lest I should write to The Times and shatter his golden dreams of wealthy tourists. The whole Montenegrin Government trembled before the possibility of such a catastrophe. I promised cheerfully not to write to any paper at all. |Nor till now have I mentioned the affairs. So the matter was settled, to the obvious relief of poor old Nikita, who was most grateful and seemed much surprised that I required no vengeance. I started again, this time for Nikshitch and the Durmitor, with the intention of going into Turkish territory if possible. At Rijeka I was taken to the small-arms factory on the river, the primitive machinery being worked by water power. Here were men busy fitting new stocks to old rifles, Russian ones. I was told that one was being prepared for every man in Bosnia and the Herzegovina. When all were ready they would be smuggled in. I was taken aback at this, but found when playing the phonograph in the evening to a large party, that the notion of a not distant war with Austria accompanied by a great Balkan rising was generally accepted. Still more was I surprised to hear talk against the Prince. He and his sons were accused of taking all the best land and doing nothing with it. And the question of the tobacco regie raged. Podgoritza I found greatly changed. The outer world had rushed in on it. The tobacco factory dominated the town. "God willing, we shall burn it down!" said the populace cheerfully. True, it employed many hands, but they complained the pay was low, though they admitted that the girls had never earned anything before. In truth, regular work was a new thing in Montenegro. The end of the days of indefinite coffee- and rakia-drinking and recounting of past battles was now approaching. The middle ages were leaping at one bound into the twentieth century, and the Montenegrin was angry and puzzled. The Italians had undertaken to construct a railway, quays, and harbour works, and offered fair wages for workmen. The Montenegrins demanded fantastic payment and imagined that by standing out they would get it. To their astonishment the Italians imported gangs of far better workmen and finished the work. Then the Montenegrins cursed the Italians and hated them bitterly. Even Montenegrin officers openly boasted that they did not know the price of the regie tobacco as they smoked only contraband, and feeling ran so high that the Italian Monopol buildings at Antivari were attacked and damaged. At Podgoritza I met again the Albanian coachman Shan, who had served me very faithfully on my previous visits. He took me to the house of his family. A striking contrast to the Montenegrin houses, it was spick and span and even pretty, for the Albanian has artistic instincts, whereas the Montenegrin has none. Left to himself, his taste is deplorable. Further signs of change in the land soon showed themselves. Rijeka had already grumbled. At Danilovgiati I was at once approached by a youth, who proudly showed me a Serbian paper containing his portrait and verses by himself. He was lately come from Belgrade, where he was a student, one of the many who have there been made tools of by unscrupulous political intriguers. He indignantly inveighed against the poverty of Montenegro and ascribed every evil to the Prince. I suggested that the Montenegrins themselves were among the laziest on God's earth, and could with energy do very much more with their land. But he blamed "the Government" for everything. No learning, no progress, he declared, was possible. You could not even import the books you wanted. He hurled his accusations broadcast and then, for he took his literary qualifications very seriously, sat down and wrote a verse about me after considerable labour and much sprawling over the table. Danilovgrad was the home of another reformer, Dr. Marusitch, a Montenegrin who had but recently returned from Manchuria after many years' service as a surgeon in the Russian Army. A wild, enthusiastic creature--good-natured, well-meaning and indiscreet. For Montenegro he was rich. He had just married an extremely beautiful young woman, and the hospitality of the two was unbounded. He at once asked me to stay six months as his guest and write, with his aid, the standard book on Montenegro. Like all who had lived in Russia, he was a hard drinker and tipped down alcohol in alarming quantities. He was a strange mixture of the old world and the new. Took me to see the grave of Bajo Radovitch, who fell in 1876 after having cut off fifteen Turkish heads; admired the bloody feat, but blamed Germany for keeping up militarism. He had no opinion at all of the Montenegrin Government, and poured out a torrent of plans for its reform. He was all for peace, he said, and wanted to rearrange all the world--which badly needed it. I little thought what would be his fate when I wished him goodbye, and promised to look him up next year. On the road to Nikshitch we came up with the military wagons carrying weapons, mainly revolvers and sword bayonets up-country for distribution. Russia had sent a revolver for each man in the country, and great was the rejoicing. Russia, when she re-armed her forces, usually bestowed the old weapons lavishly on Montenegro. Artillery was soon to follow. We left the road and struck up-country towards Durmitor, along with a string of pack-horses laden with the Russian weapons which went with an armed escort. By the way we passed two stones recording recent murders, showing that blood feuds were not yet extinct. At Zhabljak, Durmitor, I spent two amusing days seeing the distribution of arms. Men flocked in from all parts, were delighted with their new toys, and Russia leapt up in every one's estimation. No ammunition was served out for, as an officer remarked, "It would all be wasted." They conversed on blood and battle and clicked their new revolvers. "How we should like to go over and try them on the Turks," they said. "But we dare not cross the border because of the Powers." Two chetas (battalions) were armed and had left when a bugle sounded of a sudden. "That means third cheta assemble!" shouted Krsto. All rushed out. Sure enough a telegram had arrived saying "The Turks are over the border! Mobilize at once!" Every one was delighted. The men hustled into their great-coats. The women stuffed bread and a bottle of rakia into their torbitzas. The officers saddled their own horses, and in a very short time the third cheta was drawn up in line on the hill-top by the church in marching order. The commandant made a speech. They were to behave as Montenegrin heroes. They were not to fire a shot till the word was given, and above all they were to do nothing that would "look crooked in the eyes of Europe." They were a wild lot, in every kind of ragged garment. Had had a few months' drill, so marched in step for the first twenty yards. Then they broke rank, howled a war cry and rushed over the hill like a pack of wolves on the trail, firing their rifles as they went. Their officer followed on horseback and as he topped the brow, turned in his saddle and emptied his revolver over our heads. We sat up all night, every one wild for war. Bandages and carbolic arrived on a mule. There was in fact some fighting on the other side of the border between Albanians and Serbs near Bijelopolje. War, of course, did not ensue. But for some days the frontier was all lined with troops. Meanwhile I wanted to go on to Plevlje in Turkish territory, and had to wait till the local governor thought safe to let me pass. While waiting I heard here, too, more rumours about the Prince. He was accused of having poisoned the Minister of Justice, who had died suddenly after dining with him. The dead man's family lived here. They said an Austrian doctor had said it was not poison. But there was much talk about it, and folk seemed unconvinced. I never learnt the truth of it. The route at length being open, we crossed the swift Tara at the bottom of a deep gorge on a most primitive ferry of seven planks lashed together in a triangle, and the Turkish gendarmerie on the opposite bank furnished guide and horses. Krsto had to leave his revolver behind, and having never in his life been out without one, was as nervous as a cat and saw brigands in every bush. At which I laughed. Plevlje then was a strange sight. On one side were modern up-to-date Austrian houses with a park, smart barracks and an inn. On the hills behind it in immense letters of white stone were the initials of Franz Josef. The opposite side of the town was occupied by the Turkish Army, wonderfully smart, as if in competition with Austria, and a Crescent marked the hill on that side. Between the two lay the native town and bazar. The local Turkish Governor was an Albanian, Suliman Pasha. He was delighted to have an English visitor, explained to me the difficulty of his position, with enemy lands, Austria, Montenegro and Serbia on three sides of the Sanjak, all intriguing to obtain it, and enemy soldiers quartered in the town. Austria he was confident was preparing to move shortly. He believed that even then they had more troops in the Sanjak than was allowed by treaty. He pressed me to continue my journey to Mitrovitza and to Prizren, where the Russians were, he said, stirring up trouble. But the strict time limit of my holiday made this impossible. The result of the Murzsteg arrangement was, according to him, that Austria and Russia regarded the Peninsula as to be shortly theirs, and were working hard to extend their spheres of influence. Each, under the so-called reform schemes, had put their gendarmerie in the districts they could work from best. They had put England in an unimportant place. England ought to have insisted on being on the frontiers, then the importation of arms could have been prevented. As it was, Austria and Russia were both smuggling arms in by means of their gendarmerie. Russia wanted to provoke a rising of Christians in order to rush in "to save the Christians." Austria wanted to foment differences between Moslem and Catholic, and, being nearest to the spot, hoped Europe would again request her to "restore order" as in Bosnia. "Then she will be one day's march nearer Salonika," said the Pasha. I believe his statements were correct. I had an introduction to one of the leading Serbs of the town, Filip Gjurashkovitch. The Gjurashkovitch family had left Montenegro owing, as we have seen, to a fierce quarrel with the Petrovitches. Had fled, as usual, to Turkish territory and had, for years, held official positions, Filip had lived in Durazzo, and was strongly in favour of the establishment of an independent Albania, declaring that the trouble with the Albanians was due entirely to Turkish misrule. If given a chance of education they were among the most intelligent of the Peninsula. He emphasized this by pointing out that Suliman Pasha was an Albanian, and only a man of great skill could have kept the peace for twenty years between two rival garrisons both in the same town. It was Whitsuntide, and several thousand pilgrims arrived at the Troitza Monastery, just outside the town, from Montenegro, Serbia, and even the Herzegovina, as well as from the surrounding villages. Especially a number of schoolmasters assembled, all of whom ran propaganda schools in the district; I thus learnt much of what was going on. The schoolmasters were nearly all Montenegrins and regarded the Sanjak as "their claim." They were furious with Austria, because they had ordered a quantity of the usual propaganda prints, grotesque portraits of Stefan Dushan, Milosh Obilitch, the nine Yugovitches, etc., for their schools in order to preach Great Serbia. Had had them sent by Austrian post so that they might not fall into the hands of the Turks--and the Austrians had stopped them. There was no Russian Consul there to see to it. Nor could Russia be relied on entirely. Two Russian officials had been recently to Miloshevo Monastery, near Prijepolje, and had declared the language spoken there to be Bulgar. And it was the place where St. Sava was buried! They were furious. Russian monks were now firmly established at Detchani. That was all right. None of them wanted reforms introduced into the Turkish Empire, because then there would be no hope of tearing it to pieces. As in Macedonia I found the approved method was to start a massacre and then cry to Europe for help. On all sides I heard again that the great Balkan rising had been stopped by the Russo-Japanese War. The Archimandrite of the Monastery was bitter about Russia. "What does Russia want with Manchuria? She has gone to take distant land that is no affair of hers and has left her brethren in the Balkans unhelped. God's curse is upon her." They were disgusted that Ferdinand of Bulgaria had been guest at the German wedding. He was an arch plotter, but a fool. "He wants to be Tsar of a wide land. But he will not succeed. He has weakened the Serb position by his propaganda, but he will never have Constantinople. Russia would trundle him out. She means to have Constantinople. No one else will." King Petar was Serbia's only hope, but the propaganda against him was active. England's attitude about the murder was incomprehensible to them. Had Alexander not been killed he would have allowed Austria to build and control a railway through Serbia. The Montenegrins jeered at Serbia, "a country that has a new ministry every few months." None of them seemed to think it counted. And none seemed to see the point of all working for a common cause. Whether they were pro- or anti-Petrovitch, they took it for granted Montenegro was to be the head of Great Serbia. For Austria they had nothing but contempt, and said pleasantly that all Austrian officers looked as if about to bear twins. You had only to run in a bayonet and the beer would run out. They had, however, no right to talk of drink, for the pilgrimage was an orgy of rakia, beer and wine. From Plevlje I rode to Prijepolje, the furthest military outpost of Austria. There were but one hundred Christian houses in it. Nevertheless there was a schoolmaster industriously teaching "Great Serbia" and "patriotism." The Turkish Government was powerless to prevent this revolutionary work, as any interference would have brought protests from the Powers about "persecuting Christians." The whole of the Sanjak from Mitrovitza to the Austrian frontier was inhabited almost entirely by Serb-speaking Slavs, the bulk of whom were Moslem. Large numbers were descendants of those evicted from Montenegro or Serbia in 1878, and were therefore not well disposed to either land. Krsto was not at all pleased to find that they had changed their habitat for the better and settled in land more fertile than that from which they had been driven. He naively told me he had hoped they had all starved. Returning to Plevlje I found great excitement about me, as the Austrian authorities had hitherto believed that Plevlje could be reached only by Austrian post cart from the Austrian frontier, accompanied by an armed escort. An Austrian officer and the Consul hurried to interview me. They were polite and friendly, but cross-examined me severely as to the purpose of my visit, and were obviously displeased that an unarmed tourist could come straight across country and wander round without their leave or knowledge. The Consul was a Croat and vehemently anti-Serb. He told me that the Montenegrins had been guilty of starting the recent fighting near Bijelopolje, and that it had been led by a Montenegrin officer. The Montenegrin version was that the Moslem Albanians drove some sheep on to a Christian grazing-ground; that the Christians drove them off again and so the fight began; that all the Christians there wore Montenegrin caps, and so the tale of the officer was untrue. The Moslems swore to the truth of the officer tale. Judging by the celerity with which the Montenegrin troops were despatched to the frontier I incline to think it was "a put up job." News came in of the sinking of the Russian fleet by the Japanese. It produced a deep sensation. Formerly every Serb and Montenegrin had jeered at me because we took so long beating the Boers. Now when it appeared that heathens, believed to be black, were at the least inflicting heavy loss on Holy Russia, they felt as though the universe were falling. I noted in my diary: "Out here one feels very keenly the tituppy state of politics. Anything likely to upset the apple-cart should be avoided." I returned without adventure to Nikshitch, and thence to Nyegushi by a very bad mountain track. By now it was midsummer and blazing hot. I stayed at Krsto's hut, and slept in a sort of outhouse called the "magazin," built to hold contraband goods by an ancestor. By day the cloudless sky closed down on us like a lid and shut out every breath of air. The little cabbages wilted in yellow rows and the inhabitants of Nyegushi, like true Montenegrins, spent the day smoking and vainly watching for the sign of a cloud, instead of fetching water for their gardens. At midday the limestone rocks glared and the shadows lay like ink blots. Only at night, when a soft wind stole up from the Bocche di Cattaro, did Nyegushi come to life. Then we gathered on a mound behind Krsto's hut and the neighbours flocked to hear the "monogram" as they persistently called my phonograph. So soon as its raucous voice arose, folk who had gone to bed emerged and joined the party just as they were. But this merely means that they were barefoot and revolverless, for no one undresses in the Near East. My repertoire was limited, and I played "God Save the King" till I realized what must be the sufferings of the Royal Family. For Montenegro was all agog about King Edward. When King Edward was last at Marienbad he had met and spoken with Prince Mirko and his wife Princess Natalie. Nor was it surprising, for the Princess was rarely beautiful, her figure as perfect as her face; and her lovely head was poised upon a flawless neck and shoulders. She would have shone in any court in Europe, and it was a hard fate which gave her to the second son of Montenegro. She, poor young thing, was one of the pawns in the game which the Petrovitch dynasty was playing for Great Serbia, and she dreamed of Queendom. Edward VII admired her and the news flashed through Montenegro. It was in the Glas and the Korbiro (correspondence bureau), the ne plus ultra of fashionable intelligence. Excitement reached boiling-point when it was reported that King Edward in person had seen "our Mirko" and his wife off at the station and promised to call on them in Montenegro. Montenegro felt it had not lived in vain. So the villagers called for "God save the King" endlessly, and under the stars at night tried quite unsuccessfully to learn it, for Montenegrin music is not on our scale and flows weirdly in semitones and less than semitones, and in spite of strenuous efforts our national anthem always trailed off into a hopeless caterwaul. But we all agreed that King Edward would be very much surprised when he heard the song and the "monogram" among the rocks of Nyegushi. He never heard it. For meanwhile strings were pulling and fortunes changing. I returned to England, leaving the Montenegrins hopeful that he would come some day, and extorting from me a promise to be there with the "monogram". Briefly, the history of my 1905 holiday may be summed up thus. Russia was powerless, and the dismayed Balkan States could not move without her. Austria had a free hand, and seemed likely to take advantage of Russia's plight. (It should be remembered to her credit that she did not.) There was very marked discontent in Montenegro against the Prince, and it was quite obviously engineered from Serbia, and perhaps from Russia too. The struggle for supremacy between father-in-law and son-in-law, Nikola and Petar, had begun. But Montenegro still believed itself as indubitably the head of Great Serbia. Even the malcontents wanted only to lead Montenegro to Prizren and glory, and were possibly unaware they were being used as cat's paws. Hatred between Serbia and Bulgaria was growing in intensity, and a war-spirit was very evidently stimulated by the fresh arrival of Russian arms in Montenegro. That the Prince himself was aware of the undercurrent of feeling against him was shown a little later by his sudden bid for popularity. To the surprise of all the land and of the foreign Ministers, including Russia, he granted the Ustav (Constitution) in November, on St. Luke's Day. Montenegro was to elect a Parliament in which each tribe would be represented. He would teach his people self-government before he left them. It was admirably intended. Montenegro, astonished and excited, at once surcharged all the postage stamps. Prince Nikola had made a bold bid for popularity. But he did not know the web that was already winding around him. On returning to London I found the Serbian, Alexander Jovitchitch, who had been informally representing Serbia since the murder of Alexander, much excited. The British Government, for no visible reason, was coming to the conclusion that all should be forgotten and forgiven, and diplomatic relations resumed with Serbia. As it was inconvenient to have no communication at all, England had adopted a sort of "We really can't ask you to dinner but you may talk with the cook over the area railings" attitude towards Jovitchitch and allowed him to call at the Foreign Office. Now, having suffered long at the back door, he was much hurt to find that on resumption of relations he was to retire in favour of M. Militchevitch, the former Serb Minister, the same who in 1902 had had to clear me of the charge of being a Karageorgevitch. By way of cheering Jovitchitch I said things Serb were indeed looking up. Relations were to be resumed with Serbia, and King Edward had promised to visit Montenegro. Jovitchitch, to my surprise, fired up. He told me sharply that the King would never go to Montenegro. It could not be permitted. "But why?" I asked, astonished. "Because Serbia is the leading state. It would be an insult to the Serb race if King Edward went to Cetinje before Belgrade! It has been represented to him and he has dropped the project." That King Edward, after all he and the British Government had said about the murders, should now be so sensitive of Serbia's feelings that, to please Petar Karageorgevitch, Edward VII should change his holiday plans, was a little astonishing. The reason has since then come to light. We were bound to France by the Entente Cordiale, and France was bound to Russia. Petar Karageorgevitch was Russia's choice. Russia had quite decided that Bulgaria, by means of which she had first planned to work, would never voluntarily be her vassal state and act as land-bridge to Constantinople, and had therefore, in 1903, definitely preferred Serbia. But she could not support two heads for Great Serbia. One must go. England must not hob-nob with Montenegro. This was the first definite outside sign that there was to be a struggle between Serbia and Montenegro. France's military policy was tied fast to Russia's. And in December of that year--1905--we know now that "military conversations" were begun between France and England. They appear to have been far reaching. If France and England were to concoct military plans together it was clear England must recognize Russia's Balkan agent--Serbia. The situation was the more remarkable, for Edward VII had always been on the best terms with Franz Josef. And it was precisely because Alexander Obrenovitch wished to make alliance with Austria that he was slaughtered. Poor King Edward may have thought he was peace-making, but he little knew the Balkans. In June 1906, England formally resumed relations with Serbia, an event of far higher import than any one but Russia realized at the time. It is a date that ends a chapter of Balkan history. Till then Serbia was a petty Balkan state whose history had been punctuated by political murder, who had been aided from time to time by Russia, but quite as often by Austria, and who had usually been recognized as part of the Austrian "sphere." She now formed part of the combine against the Central Powers, and had the support of France, Russia and England. Montenegro, on the other hand, "the Tsar's only friend," besung by Tennyson, bepraised by Gladstone (mainly, it is true, because neither of these well-meaning gentlemen had ever been there), now fell from her high position. Montenegro had had the praise of England's great men, and the political and financial support of Russia. But from the day when England and France began "military Conversations" the tables were turned. Prince Nikola might strive for popularity with "Constitutions," but, unless a miracle happened, the fate of the Petrovitches was sealed. They would never ascend the throne of Great Serbia. And the fate of Europe was sealed too. CHAPTER TWELVE BOSNIA AND THE HERZEGOVINA The Lamp of the Past illumines the Present. The summer of 1906 saw me no longer restricted to two months' travel, but free to go where I pleased for as long as I liked. I planned a great scheme for the study and comparison of the traditions and customs of all the Balkan races, and in August started for Bosnia. In ancient days all Bosnia and the Herzegovina formed part of Illyria, and was inhabited by the ancestors of the modern Albanian. Thousands of prehistoric graves, similar to those found also in Serbia and Albania, are scattered over the land. A huge cemetery exists at Glasinatz above Serajevo. The multitude of objects found in these graves reveal a very early Iron Age. Bosnia was one of Europe's earliest "Sheffields." Iron tools and bronze ornaments show that their makers were skilled workmen. The ornaments are of particular interest, as many are very similar in design to those still worn by Balkan peasantry, and as the bulk of Balkan silversmiths are Albanians or Vlachs both craft and design would appear to have been handed down from very ancient days. The Illyrians were great warriors. "The difficulty," says J. B. Bury, the eminent historian of the later Roman Empire, "experienced by the Romans in subduing and incorporating the brave tribes is well known." Briefly, Rome's first punitive expedition to Illyria was in 230 B.C., but the land was not finally annexed till 169 A.D. The Romans colonized Illyria. Christianity reached the coast early and slowly penetrated inland. Illyria formed part of the Patriarchate of Rome, and Latin became the official language throughout the Peninsula, save in the extreme south and south-east coast-line. Up-country and in the mountains the people evidently retained their own speech, that from which modern Albanian derives. The people in the plains, in direct contact with the Roman settlers, developed a sort of bastard Latin speech and doubtless intermarried largely with the Romans. They and their language exist to-day. They are known as the Kutzovlachs, and are thickly settled on the old Roman routes and the hill-tops. As frequently happens in history, but is invariably forgotten by those who go out to conquer, the marked individuality of the vanquished speedily re-asserted itself and gradually absorbed the victor. The Roman Empire shortly split in twain, and the East was largely ruled by Emperors of native Balkan blood, Diocletian, Constantine the Great, and many of lesser note. Greatest of all was Justinian (527-565), who was of Illyrian birth and succeeded his uncle Justin, a common soldier risen to the purple. "In four departments," says Bury, "Justinian has won immortal fame. In warfare, in architecture, in law and in Church history." To him the world owes St. Sofia. He and his uncle Justin both strove against the schism between the Roman and Byzantine Churches, and he was powerful enough to carry a measure which tended to unity by modifying, the Synod of Chalcedon without breaking with Rome. And he prided himself upon speaking Latin. Yet there are those to-day who would hand over his Church of the Holy Wisdom to Greek propagandists. He dealt the final blow at Paganism and denounced the Manicheans--of whom we shall hear much later--and enacted severe laws against them. The history of modern Bosnia begins in Justinian's reign. The Slavs then began to threaten the Empire. Tribes began to drift across the Danube and settle in groups already in the fifth century, but were stopped for a while by the Huns and Ostrogoths, who swept over the Peninsula and infested Illyria and Epirus. "The departure of the Ostrogoths," says Bury, "was like the opening of a sluice. The Slavs and Bulgars, whom their presence had held back, were let loose on the Empire. . . . The havoc made by these barbarians was so serious that Justinian made new lines of defence." In 548 and 551 A.D. masses of Slavs ravaged the land. "The massacres and cruelties committed by these barbarians," says Bury, "make the readers of Procopius shudder." The readers of the Carnegie report of 1913 do likewise. Among the fortresses built by Justinian was Singidunum, now Belgrade, which, founded to hold back the Slav, is now his capital. The invading Slavs were pagan, the natives largely Christian. "The Christians," says Presbyter Diocleas, "seeing themselves in great tribulation and persecution, began to gather on the mountains and tried to construct castles and strongholds that they might escape from the hands of the Slavs until God should visit and liberate them." This is probably the origin of the Vlach settlements on hill-tops and the Albanian mountain strongholds. "The year 581," says John of Ephesus, "was famous for the invasion of the accursed Slavonians . . . who captured cities and forts, and devastated and burnt, reducing the people to slavery, and made themselves masters of the country and settled it by main force. Four years have elapsed and still they live in the land . . . and ravage and burn." The Romans and their civilization were swept coastward, and in Dalmatia their civilization never quite died out. In later times the term "Romanes" was used in a special sense to denote the Romans who maintained their independence against the Slavs. Ragusa and Cattaro are some of the towns they founded. Of the native population many refuged in the Albanian mountains, where they retained their language. Many doubtless remained and were absorbed by the Slavs. Traces, however, of the Illyrian still remain in Bosnia. Tattooing is still common there in many districts. Tattooing is not a Slav custom, but is specially noticed by classic authors as a characteristic of the ancient Balkan tribes. Neither have the Bosnians, as a whole, ever been attached to the Orthodox Church as have the remainder of the Balkan Slavs. The early history of the Slavs in the Peninsula is obscure. They were a tribal people, and were for some time dominated by the Bulgars. Not till the end of the twelfth century did they unite under their very able line of Nemanja princes and rise to be a power. Even under the Nemanjas the local chieftains were semi-independent, and their inability to cohere proved the undoing of the realm. Bosnia at an early date--it is said A.D. 940--was ruled by elective Bans. Stefan Nemanja the First Crowned of Serbia, called himself King of Serbia, Dalmatia and Bosnia, but the title seems to have been but nominal. The Bans did as they pleased and intrigued constantly with the Hungarians against the Serbs. The Bosniaks, too, became sharply divided from the Serbs by religion. Already in Justinian's time many of the Slavs near the Dalmatian coast had been converted to Christianity by priests from Rome, and much of the Herzegovina has ever since been Catholic. The mass of the Slavs, however, were pagan till the ninth century, when they were converted by the great mission led by Cyril and Methodius from Salonika. Manicheism had already, in Justinian's time, taken a strong hold in the Balkan Peninsula. It now became amalgamated with a form of Christianity. A sect known as the Paulicians arose in Samosata in Asia Minor, which combined Manicheism with a peculiar reverence for the teaching of St. Paul. Fiercely persecuted by the Christians, they revolted, joined with the Mahommedans, and wasted much of Asia Minor. The Emperor Constantino Copronymus (A.D. 741), in order to weaken them, transported a great number to Thrace to serve as frontier guards. John I. Zimisces (A.D. 969) settled another large body in the Balkan valleys. Thence their doctrines spread fast. It would be of interest to know how much of their physical qualities were transmitted also. The new faith was known as Bogumil (dear to God) from its reputed Slav leader. The rapidity with which it spread shows the very slight hold Christianity had as yet taken. The sun and the moon, which figured prominently in it, probably appealed to the old pre-Christian nature-worship of the Slavs. Alexius Comnenus vainly tried to extirpate the heresy by savage persecution. Basil, its high priest, was burnt alive. The sect fled westward and Bosnia became its stronghold. Religion in the Middle Ages was a far greater force than race. Nationality was hardly developed. Bosnia, into which the Orthodox faith seems to have penetrated but little, if at all, was thus cut off from the Serb Empire, for the bulk of the Bosniaks were either Bogumil or Roman Catholic. We find a great many monuments of the Bogumils scattered through Bosnia and the Herzegovina. Huge monolithic gravestones often curiously carved. The sun, the moon and the cross appear as symbols, and portraits of warriors kilted and armed with bows and arrows and a cuirass, which give a good idea of the chieftain of the Middle Ages. The kilt is still worn by the Albanians. Of the Bogumil creed not much is known, and that chiefly from its enemies. Catholic and Orthodox alike regarded the heresy with horror. But even its enemies allowed the Bogumils to have been an ascetic and temperate people. They abhorred the use of ikons and images, and unless the subterranean chapel at Jaitza be one, have left no church. Their doctrines spread into west Europe, and by the end of the twelfth century had developed in France into the sect of the Albigenses which was suppressed by the Roman Church with terrible ferocity. It is of interest that the rayed sun and the moon are still found in the armorial bearings of South of France families. In Bosnia Bogumilism almost superseded all other faiths. In the twelfth century the Catholic Dalmatians and Hungarians in vain tried to suppress it by force. In 1189 Kulin Ban, the ruler of Bosnia, himself turned Bogumil. He recanted under pressure from Rome, but soon relapsed again, and in spite of an Hungarian crusade which ravaged the land, Bogumilism triumphed, the palace of the Catholic Bishop of Kreshevo was burnt and the Catholic episcopacy banished. The Bishop of Bosnia had to reside in Slavonia, and Bogumilism spread into Dalmatia and Croatia. Bosnia was thus completely divided from the Serb Kingdom of Rashia, which had meanwhile grown up and thrown in its lot with the Orthodox Church. The Bans, in fact, preferred the assistance of the Catholics to the risk of conquest by the Serbs, and in 1340 we find Ban Stefan declaring himself Catholic and agreeing to the establishment of two Bishoprics. Stefan Dushan, Serbia's greatest Tsar, was now at the height of his power. He succeeded in bringing the south of Bosnia under his control, but the then Ban Stefan Tvrtko (1353) joined with the Venetians and Hungarians against him. Nor was Bosnia as a whole added to Serbia. Tsar Dushan died in 1356 and Tvrtko at once reclaimed his lands, but held them only as a vassal state to Hungary. The Serb peoples, divided into many small rival principalities, fought each other continuously, though the enemy which was to overwhelm them all was already advancing upon them. The Turk who, be it remembered, had entered Europe at the invitation of the Greeks, to aid them against the attack of Tsar Dushan, had firmly established themselves in the peninsula. Nevertheless the rival native princelings intrigued one against the other, and some even enlisted the help of the Turk instead of banding together against him. The Balkans were an easy prey for any strong foe. Even after the Turks had beaten the Serbs severely, Stefan Tvrtko, King of Bosnia, seems only to have regarded this as an advantage to himself. He continued extending his realm; had himself crowned "King of Bosnia, Serbia and the coastland" in 1375, and was then the most powerful of the Balkan rulers. As an ally of King Lazar, who ruled over a much reduced Serbia, he, too, sent an army to Kosovo when, far too late, the Balkan people at last united against the Turk. But they lost the day. Union Was impossible to them, and a large part of the Serb Army deserted to the enemy. Even then the Balkan princelings failed to recognize their danger. Tvrtko, still bent on extending his realm, Instead of opposing the Turks, who did not follow up their victory, gave all his energies to waging war against the Croats and Dalmatians, who at that time were under the King of Hungary. Tvrtko died in 1391, bequeathing a big Bosnia to his heir. But all mediaeval Balkan States were big only during the lifetime of their creator. Tvrtko's brother soon lost the newly acquired Croatian and Dalmatian districts, and Bosnia was further weakened by the breaking off of what is now known as the Herzegovina. It had for long had its own chiefs. One stronger than usual now arose, Sandalj Ranitch. The Turk was almost at the gate, but Sandalj's only object was to make himself a state independent of Bosnia. Kosovo had indeed taught the South Slavs nothing. The advancing Turk began raiding Bosnia and employed Serbian troops. The Ragusa archives record: "In January 1398, the son of Bajazet, with a great number of Turks and Slavs, entered Bosnia." Stefan Ostoja was now King of Bosnia, but he too seems to have been more intent upon annexing Ragusa than in organizing defence against the Turk. Nor can we stop to unravel the complicated series of quarrels of one Slav prince with another, of their intrigues with Venice, with Hungary, with Ragusa, each playing for his own hand, though the Turks were now established as near as Uskub, and in 1415 invaded Bosnia for the third time. Sigismund, King of Hungary, alone of the neighbouring princes, realized the gravity of the situation and sent an army against the Turks, only to find that the Herzegovina sided with the Turks against him. As a result, we learn from the Ragusa archives, "the whole of Bosnia is laid waste and the barons are preparing to exterminate each other." Venice meanwhile crept down the coast and occupied much of Dalmatia, while the South Slavs fought each other. Nationality is the craze of to-day. Religion, in the Middle Ages, played a similar part. Catholic, Orthodox, and Bogumil, hated each other more than they hated the less known Turk. Each was willing to use him against the other. People of the same race and language then fought each other because they differed about religion. To-day, even holding the same religious views, they fight in the sacred name of nationality. But then, as now, there were a few people who recognized the folly of the fashionable differences. At the Council of Basel in 1431 an effort was made to induce the Balkan chiefs, Catholic, Orthodox and even Bogumil, to send delegates to Basel with a view to ending religious strife and opposing a united front to the Turk. It was vain. The King of Bosnia, and Stefan, Despot of Serbia, declared war on each other and fought for several years. And Sandalj, Lord of the Herzegovina, sided with the Serbs and bought of the Sultan the right to take Bosnia. They failed to do so, but their efforts certainly helped the final destruction of Slav independence. Sandalj's successor, Stefan Kosatch, assumed the title Duke of Sava (whence "Herzegovina" the Duchy), became Bogumil and consequently fought both the Orthodox of Serbia and the Catholics of Ragusa. And ever the Turk advanced slowly and always found a Slav chief ready to side with him against a neighbour. At Fotcha, in the Herzegovina, I bought a bracelet of a silversmith, who related that his ancestor was the man who had guided the Turks into the district. Constantinople fell in 1453, and left the Sultan free to complete the conquest of the Balkans. The Hungarians, led by the great Hunyadi, opposed him. But the Orthodox Serbs, led by their Despot George Brankovitch, whose ancestor had deserted to the Turks at Kosovo, hated Catholicism more than Islam, and sided with the Turk against Hunyadi. The end soon came. The last King of Bosnia, Stefan Tomashovitch, a Catholic, asked help of the Pope, and endeavoured to raise troops among the Catholics of Dalmatia and Croatia. This enraged his Bogumil subjects, who preferred the Turks. The Sultan's army met little resistance; Stefan was taken prisoner and beheaded by the Turks in 1463, and soon all Bosnia was included in the Turkish Empire. As in other Balkan lands, the rights of the Christians were recognized. The Franciscans were appointed as their spiritual head, and several Franciscan monasteries date from these early days. The Bogumils in large numbers adopted Islam, with which, in its abhorrence of ikons and images, and in its Monotheism, they were in greater sympathy than with either of the Christian Churches, both of which had persecuted them. But Bogumilism lasted into the nineteenth century, possibly into the twentieth, for a case was reported to me in 1911. Those Christians who objected to Turkish rule fled south into Montenegro, especially from the Herzegovina, which was finally overthrown by the Turks in 1484. Nor did the enmity between the Bosniaks and the Serbs cease now that they were under a common foe. Throughout the histories of Serbia and Montenegro we find that the Moslems of Bosnia and the Herzegovina were their bitterest enemies and that the armies, sent against them by the Sultans were very largely recruited from these districts. The sense of nationality did not begin to develop until very much later. Under the Turk the feudal system of the pre-Turk days continued. We get a clear idea of the pre-Turk social conditions from the laws of Tsar Stefan Dushan, which show the strongly marked class difference of noble and serf. The noble was almost tax-free, but had to supply troops. The serf was tied to the land, and could only leave it with his lord's permission. Different punishments were inflicted upon nobles and serfs, the nobles' being naturally the lighter. So independent was the noble that he could build his own church or monastery in his land and chose its bishop. The serfs were judged by the noble upon whose land they were. They paid taxes; had to give him two days' work a week, and three if he had vineyards; cut hay and corn for him, and so forth. In pre-Turk days the rule of the chieftain seems to have been severe. Under the Turk the system continued, and the "Turk" of many a ballad who oppresses his Christian peasant was in fact the Slav feudal nobleman who, having turned Moslem carried on the ancestral tradition, and to the tyranny of the feudal noble added religious intolerance. There was little organized government under the Turks. The traditional ballads give us vivid pictures of the heyduks, or brigands. Highway robbery up till, and well into, the nineteenth century was both a lucrative business and a sport which well suited the lazy but adventurous spirit of the people. It perpetuated in fact the everlasting raids of one noble against another in pre-Turk days. To this day a Montenegrin "junak" delights in pillaging a village. But continuous work is abhorrent to him. Armed Turkish patrols guarded the main trade routes between Ragusa, Constantinople and Vienna. They cleared the route from time to time, and then woe to the captured heyduk, whether Moslem or Christian. Heavy the ransom to buy his freedom. But brigandage was rampant before the Turk came, and, as we have seen, the history of the Peninsula was one of incessant bloodshed and disorder. The Turk, in fact, showed more toleration for his Balkan subjects than they did for each other. Each aimed at the extermination of the other. Probably, had not the Turk overwhelmed them all, one or other would have ultimately predominated, and absorbed or exterminated the rest. Under the Turk all survived. He slapped them each impartially and allowed no one to exterminate the other. Nor was their hatred of the Turk ever great enough to cause them to combine against him till 1912, and then they were at each other's throats again so soon as he was removed. Though, as we have seen, Montenegro was recruited by refugees from Bosnia, the converse also holds good. Many a Serb and Montenegrin flying from blood-vengeance, many a Slav criminal flying from Austrian justice, refuged in Turkish territory and turned Moslem. Nor when, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, the Serbs struck for independence did Bosnia join them. The Slav Vezir and the Pashas of Bosnia led great armies against them. By then the whole situation had changed, however. The ebb-tide of the Turk had begun. Austria and Russia in the eighteenth century had already decided upon the partition of his lands. Russia thought and cared only for Constantinople and the way there. Bosnia was recognized as Austria's sphere. The long wars and the liberation of the Serbs had effects in Bosnia and the Herzegovina. Revolts, largely agrarian, of the Christians began to take place. The big landowners, though Slavs, were Moslems. Their peasants were largely Christian. In 1849 a great rising was followed by the flight of thousands of Christian peasants into Austria, who in time of stress has often been the South Slav's only friend. The Herzegovinians, encouraged and incited by the Montenegrins on their borders, rose frequently, and it was their great rising of 1875 which started the Russo-Turkish War of 1877. Before declaring war, however, Russia came to an agreement with Austria about Bosnia. It was understood that Austria should receive Bosnia on condition that she took no part in the war. Russia did not include this in the Treaty of San Stefano, but the scheme received the strongest support at the Congress of Berlin. The aim of both England and Germany was to hold back the ever forward-pressing Slav forces. Great Britain pledged herself to Austria previous to the Congress. "Le Gouvernement de Sa Majeste Britannique s'engage a soutenir tout proposition concernant la Bosnie que le Gouvernement Austro-Hongroise (sic) jugera a propos de faire au Congres." Austria was offered Bosnia without reservation, and could then and there have annexed it. It was only doubt on Austria's part which led her to choose "administration" in place of annexation. The decision of the Congress at once caused trouble. The mass of the Bosnian Moslems violently opposed separation from Turkey, and the Herzegovinians, who had risen with a view to union with Montenegro, were equally opposed to Austria. The Austrian Army in 1878 met with great resistance, and only after heavy losses and four months' fighting finally subdued the land. The Herzegovinians declared to me that they only laid down their arms at the request of the Prince of Montenegro, under the understanding that Austrian administration was to be but temporary, but under the terms of the Treaty no time-limit was mentioned. That the arrangement was intended by the Powers to be permanent appears from the text now (1919) published from the Vienna archives under date June 18, 1881, whereby the Courts of Russia, Germany and Austria-Hungary agree that "Austria shall annex these two provinces at the moment she judges opportune." This agreement was renewed in 1884. That the Powers considered the provinces as definitely annexed is shown by the fact that when in 1881 Austria introduced military conscription and recruited regiments for her own army no objection was made, nor did any Power intervene when Austria put down by force the resultant insurrection. On the contrary they most sternly ordered the Prince of Montenegro to prevent his men from rushing to the aid of the insurgents. Nor did Europe make any protest when the capitulations were abolished by Austria, though the land was nominally still a Turkish province. And Austrian coinage soon entirely replaced Turkish money. Up till this time it is important to note that Russia, was taking no steps with regard to claiming Bosnia for her Pan-Slav schemes. Her immediate aim was Constantinople, and she had planned to obtain it by means of a large Bulgaria, which should be a vassal state. But Bulgaria soon struck for complete independence and showed that she would never be Russia's puppet, and elected Prince Ferdinand in defiance of the Tsar with the express intention of breaking away from Russian influence. Russia therefore finally turned towards the Great Serbian Idea, which otherwise she would probably not have taken up till the annexation of Constantinople had been accomplished. Till now, Russia had recognized the Montenegrin dynasty as the leader of Great Serbism. She now turned towards Serbia. It was in a far better geographical position and could supply a much larger army, and Montenegro could still be used as a tool. The result of this was that when in 1897 the Emperor Franz Josef and Goluchowski went to Petersburg and asked for a confirmation of the agreement of 1881, "that the territorial advantages recognized to Austria-Hungary by the Berlin Treaty are and remain acquired by Austria-Hungary and therefore the possession of Bosnia-Herzegovina and the Sanjak of Novibazar cannot form matters of discussion; the Austro-Hungarian Government reserving to itself the right of substituting for the actual title of occupation and garrisoning, that of annexation." Russia had now other plans and replied "the annexation of the two provinces would give rise to more extensive questions which would necessitate a special examination in time and place." And in the summer of that very year the Tsar received Petar Karageorgevitch, the exiled claimant to the Serbian throne, and started upon her Great Serbian intrigue. CHAPTER THIRTEEN BOSNIA IN 1906. THE PLOT THICKENS. In the summer of 1906, when I visited Bosnia, the plot was already far advanced. Petar Karageorgevitch was on the throne of Serbia, and Russia, who had had a bad set-back in the Far East, was again turning Balkanwards. To visit Bosnia a visa was necessary, a sure sign that a land suffers from "unrest." To obtain it I went to the Austrian Embassy. The young gentleman who attended to passports was out, and I was bidden sit on a bench with a number of rather poverty-stricken Austrians. When the gentleman appeared he was vexed to find so much work, and refused most of the applicants roughly. Their papers were incorrect or he was dissatisfied with their reasons for wishing to return home. One "cheeked" him considerably in German, and I laughed. It therefore never occurred to him that I was English. I am in fact, when travelling, rarely taken for English, which is often convenient. He addressed me sharply in German: "You want to go to Bosnia?" "Yes, please." He took me for a Bosnian, and I let him do it. "When did you leave Bosnia?" "In the summer of 1900." "What have you been doing in London?" "Writing and other things." This alarmed him and he said sternly: "You must tell me exactly why you left Bosnia." "Because I am English," I said politely, "and it was time to come home." I pressed my passport upon him, which he had been too haughty to look at before. Then there was hurrying and scurrying and orders and abuse of the doorkeeper and much confusion, and I was conducted to a drawing-room and apologized to (for having been treated as an Austrian subject) and given the visa. I enjoyed the episode immensely, and incidentally learnt how the official mind regarded Bosniaks. My previous experience in Serbia caused me to go in search of a new-laid Serbian visa also, in case I wished to cross the frontier. Militchevitch this time was very friendly, joked about the awful bill for cypher telegrams which I had run up for the Serbian Government in 1902, and promised to send me some introductions to leading Bosniaks. At Trieste great events were in progress. The Emperor Franz Joseph was to hold big military manoeuvres at Trebinje in the Herzegovina and a naval review at Ragusa. The air was full of political electricity, flags and decorations, and the coasting steamer was full of police spies. All papers and passports were scrutinized carefully at each landing-stage. The Kaiser had not visited Dalmatia for very many years, and the populace was delighted. Dalmatia complained bitterly that money was poured into Bosnia and nothing done for her. Now things no doubt would look up. Then we touched at Lesina and learnt that the Kaiser was unwell and that his heir presumptive, the Archduke Franz Ferdinand, would replace him. "I know what is the matter with him," said the captain to me: "he has political fever. Something has happened." The tale ran round that the Kaiser had intended after the manoeuvres to announce the annexation of Bosnia-Herzegovina. But that Abdul Hamid, apt at expedients, had learnt this fact, and had sent Franz Josef a polite message regretting that he was unable in person to receive His Majesty on this, his first visit to a Turkish province, but assuring him that his reception should be in every way suitable. Se non vero, ben trovato. Possibly true, for it came out later that Goluchowski actually broached the subject to Russia in the summer of 1906 and Russia raised objections, and may very probably have informed Abdul. The news caused great disappointment. The old Kaiser was genuinely respected and even loved. Towns that were poor had spent much to do him honour. Perhaps this was one of the "tides in the affairs of men" and nations, that can be taken once and once only. The change of feeling was marked at all our stopping-places. It was very late when we reached Ragusa, and a gauntlet of police had to be run. The town was crammed. Next day the great grey warships lay off the coast and the army was arriving, disembarking and marching up to Trebinje. No stranger might go there without a special pass. I did not ask for one, as in such cases one sees only what one is meant to see, which is misleading. So I got up at 4 a.m. and went to look at the army. It was put to an unusual test in Europe, as it had to rely largely on mule transport. Having done much pack-saddle travel myself, I noted with interest that the Bosniak regiments were the only ones who knew how to "pack-saddle." With most of the others the saddles rolled under at once, or halfway up the road, which is worse. The army marched off early. I then made the acquaintance of a pretty girl, who was engaged to one of the officers, and from her later heard all that happened. This I supplemented by sitting in the cafe when the officers came back and hearing their curses. The men were dead-beat. The water supply had broken down, so had the food. The burning limestone karst had been too much for the men from the plains, and they broke down badly. Only the Croats and Bosniaks had stood the test. The manoeuvres were a failure. The arrival of the Archduke and suite was very quiet. Ragusa was decorated entirely with Slav colours. Only on the Government offices did the yellow and black of Austria appear. At three in the afternoon the Archduke Franz Ferdinand was to drive through the town, whose broad main street is a fine background for a procession. It was crammed with a gay throng, and the national dress of Ragusa can be very gay indeed. All were talking and laughing. Then came the solemn strains of "Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser," the finest of all national anthems, and a sudden hush fell on the crowd. A silence absolute and unbroken that continued till the unhappy man, who sat motionless and erect, his face as blanched as a corpse, drove out of the further gate of the town. Then the crowd burst into one huge laugh. So complete was the demonstration that it was certainly pre-arranged. "Write to the papers! write to the papers!" cried several who knew me, in high glee. Then Prince Danilo passed, and the crowd cried "Zhivio!" I met The Times correspondent and said: "Well, that was a display. You have something to write about now!" But he replied that as we were on friendly terms with Austria he should certainly not report it. Nor did the papers to which I wrote think fit to publish this highly significant affair. Thus is the trend of Foreign Affairs hidden from the public. Editors might as well often do without their correspondents, for they tell them beforehand what to emphasize, or cut the important news out of their telegrams. The Archduke arrived with a portmanteau full of medals, and took them all away with him again. His only enthusiastic reception was from the deputation of Albanian Bishops and other ecclesiasts who came from Scutari to greet him. He was a brave man, for after the demonstration he went into the town on foot almost unescorted, and during the drive, though he must have expected a bomb every moment, he showed no loss of self-control save the blanching of his face. From Ragusa I went to Serajevo. I took the phonograph to collect songs, and wished specially to collect tattoo patterns and see the Bogumil and all other local historical remains, but was badly hampered, nor is it my purpose here to describe things anthropological. Had I been left to my own devices I should doubtless have made larger collections and seen less of the political situation. But the Austrian police, like the Serbian in 1902, insisted on rubbing my nose in it. Travel in the interior was forbidden without a special pass. The British Consul was absent, and had referred me to his Italian colleague who muddled the business badly, whether because he was stupid or for reasons of his own, I did not find out. A little of both, I think. I was asked to call at a certain hour on the Governor of Serajevo. He was a Croat, spoke German to me and told me it was the wrong time of year to travel in Bosnia. Much surprised, I said I had wintered in Macedonia and could stand anything. He then spoke Serb, and I foolishly replied in the same tongue. I told him all I wanted was the permit, and that I could shift for myself. He objected that the food was bad; native houses dirty; winter near --such a journey as I proposed among the people in short impossible. I replied I was used to bugs, lice and fleas, could sleep on the ground and eat anything. All I wanted was a pony and a respectable guide. He stated that unfortunately there were no guides in Bosnia, so I said if I could have a pony I would find the way myself by map. Remembering my trump card at the Serb Legation, I asked if the country were in too dangerous a state. He hastened to say it was not. At last, countered at every point, he offered to lend me his man-servant for a fortnight; could not spare him longer. I should then have seen enough and could return to England. I said I could not so inconvenience him; that I could not get any work done in the time and that I thought of staying months not weeks. He said he would think it over and I was to call again. Next time he was all smiles and had a map ready. "Here," he said, "is your route. Here is a letter"--he pointed to a large pile--"for the Bezirksvorsteher of every place. You will present it on your arrival and do nothing till the authorities have arranged for you. The tour will take three weeks, and then you will go back to England." It was a great disappointment to me. You cannot get a native to tell you folk-tales while you draw the interior of his hut, if a policeman is sitting waiting till it is done. Nor can you live with a family and see its habits. Just as I had plodded round Serbia in spite of the police, so I would not be put off Bosnia, but to this day I regret the great amount of most interesting material that was there at my hand and which I could not gather. Bosnia was a mine of old-world lore and belief. As in Serbia, however, it was obvious that there was something the authorities wanted to conceal. And as "DORA" had not yet been born in England the affair seemed to me unutterably silly and tiresome. The first part of the journey I was, for all practical purposes, under arrest. Met on arrival everywhere by a most polite young official, who told me his whole time was at my disposal. "This is a mosque," he said, "this is a Turkish coffee-house. We will have a cup of coffee. This is the Catholic Church, or Orthodox, as the case might be." We inspected the school, and took a walk in the environs. "Now you have seen all. I will go with you to the post office and get a place for you on the diligence to-morrow. It starts at eight." The evening was spent in the hotel where all the Beamters had their meals. I tried to get information about local customs. Sometimes my hosts supplied them. More often the topic bored them. We talked of Vienna and London. After a good deal of this I reflected I was losing time and money. Every one was politeness and kindness itself. But I missed the long evenings in Albanian or Montenegrin huts round the fire; the talk and the doings. The Austrian official who sighed only for the Opera or the Ringstrasse and thought himself an exile wearied me. But as I was not allowed to study the native I had to study him. I startled some of them one night when they asked me as usual, how I liked Bosnia, by telling them that so far I had seen none of it, nothing but the Austrian occupation. This sort of thing went on a bit longer. Then on the Herzegovinian frontier I accidentally picked up an official to whom I had no letter of introduction. A cheery, enterprising individual who said he did not know to which of the many races of the Empire he belonged--and did not care. Was a geologist and a bit of an antiquarian. Took me up an 8,000 foot mountain and incidentally almost killed me. For on the desolate summit we surprised a chamois at close quarters, which snuffed us, gathered its feet and jumped over what looked like a precipice, though it had footholds for chamois. My new friend insisted on following it, as the shortest way down. When we were on a slippery grass slope so steep I could see the bottom of the valley a thousand feet below between my own boots, and the native servant lad refused to further risk his life, I too struck, and the chase was given up. When we arrived at a gendarmerie outpost on the night of the second day, and I was nearly dead-beat after seventeen hours' continuous struggle over many rocks and other obstacles, he confessed he had had no idea of the way. The stolid gendarmerie captain was appalled. "But if the Fraulein had died?" he asked. "Ah, but I knew she was English!" cried the other, "they can do these things. She will be all right to-morrow." He was delighted with the exploit, and suggested all kinds of places I should go to. I told him about my route and my previous experiences. He roared with laughter. Said it was silly nonsense. Some of the Serajevo people were too stupid for words. "Have you a passport? And it is in order. Very well. You are a British subject. They dare not stop you. Why should they? They ought to be glad to get tourists, and they won't if they go on like this. Burn all those letters and go where you please." He made me a list of places where I should find Bogumil monuments, tattooed people, Roman remains and so forth. Told me that in his opinion Austria was wasting time and money in the provinces. The changes were too quick for the people; they preferred the old Turkish tracks and pack beasts to carts and the new roads, and that they suspected everything new. He himself got on with the people excellently, took me into several houses where they had portraits of Prince Nikola of Montenegro, and chaffed them about wanting to join that land. "They are all of them plotting across the border," he said, laughing. "They would far rather pig along like the Montenegrins. I've tried hard to persuade them to use iron ploughs. Our government supplies them at less than cost price. But they won't. They say, 'No, it is a Schwab thing.' We have spent no end of money trying to improve the live stock: bulls, stallions, rams, boars of the finest breeds. We sent a splendid boar last year to a village in charge of a man who was supposed to be reliable. And when Christmas came he killed it, roasted it and asked all the village to a feast. It was worth a lot of money. He only said that there was so much meat on it, it seemed a pity to let it live! It will take them several generations to get new ideas. Why worry. All this talk of going to Salonika is folly. This place is too much for us." His own job were beautiful irrigation works which kept a whole district fertile through the heats of summer. "But," he laughed, "the people are not a bit pleased. They say that in the old days it rained when it was God's will. They have quite forgotten they lost most of their crops every year from the drought. This is a Schwab thing, so they think it bad." On parting with him I took his advice and went where I liked. I was "shadowed" a good deal and my correspondence was generally ten days late, but otherwise was not interfered with. Living in native houses and going as guest to festivities, weddings, etc., as I had done in other Balkan lands was, however, impossible. It would have got my hosts into trouble. As it was, the wife of an official was very angry when I said I could get a meal in any village. For she declared she and her husband had even been refused coffee, the people all vowing they had none. The reason for all the fuss was that the authorities were trying to hide the fact that the country was going through a very bad crisis, which was further exacerbated by the rumoured annexation; the open talk of an advance towards Salonika; and the renewed political activity of Russia and Serbia, which had now got England installed again at Belgrade. Speaking Serb, I found without difficulty that there was a very strong Serb propaganda being worked from Belgrade among the Orthodox, who at that time formed nearly two-fifths of the native population. Next in number were the Moslems and after them the Catholics, lastly several thousand Spanish Jews. Orthodox, Moslem and Catholic native populations were entirely Slavonic. There was an acute division between the Orthodox and the other two parties. The Catholics and even some of the Moslems called themselves Croat, and hated the term Serb. I had heard a report that in Croatia a reconciliation between Serb and Croat had taken place. None was to be seen in Bosnia. Only in the Herzegovina did the Catholic natives wish union with Montenegro. The bulk of the Moslems looked longingly towards Turkey. The Orthodox, on the other hand, were violently pro-Serb, and feelings between Austria and Serbia had risen to fever heat. Towards the end of 1905, Pashitch, then Prime Minister of Serbia, though already working hard against Bulgaria in Macedonia, signed a secret commercial convention with that country providing for the free interchange of goods with the exception of certain specified objects, and binding the two to a monetary convention and assimilation of weights and measures. As both countries produced much the same articles the arrangement did not appear to be likely to stimulate trade and as the racial hatred and rivalry of the two over the unsettled Macedonian scheme was extreme, the permanence of the arrangement was in any case doubtful. Serbia was in dire need of a loan, and was on the point of concluding one for 70,000,000 francs. Part of this was to be supplied by the Vienna Bank, and both Serbia and Bulgaria were negotiating new commercial treaties with Austria. Serbia thought best therefore to keep the transaction with Bulgaria quiet. But just as business was almost concluded with Austria, a Bulgarian newspaper blurted out the Bulgar-Serb convention. The Austria-Hungarian Government demanded at once to see the document, and all business came to a standstill. Nor was this surprising, for Petar I, Pashitch and the regicide group were notoriously Russia's proteges, and any secret arrangement on their part was likely to be directed against Austria. Austria closed her frontier to Serbian live stock. Serbia was on the bubble. England had stipulated that the regicides were to be retired from power, as a condition of resuming diplomatic relations. (A stipulation that showed either that the Foreign Office little knew the Balkans, or that it knew very well that the treaty was a farce and did not care.) The regicide gang was infuriated and plotted the assassination of their opponents who wished by legal means to settle the question. But, as was delicately expressed by The Times correspondent, "it is stated that the police authorities refused to afford facilities for the execution of the plot, which consequently failed." Pity indeed that the police of Serbia did not remain "conscientious objectors" to plots of assassination. And about the same time when Vladan Georgevitch was sentenced to six months' imprisonment for "revealing state secrets," in The End of a Dynasty, the author in court denounced King Petar as the humble instrument of Russian policy. Austria insisted on modifications to the Serbo-Bulgar convention; Turkey too demanded an alteration. But by the time I arrived in Bosnia this affair was thrown quite into the shade by a new step on Serbia's part. She decided to purchase the artillery for her reconstructed army from the Creusot works in France. This so infuriated Austria that she declared a complete boycott of all Serbian goods. Serbia retorted and the frontiers were absolutely closed; so tightly indeed that along the Serbian frontier I found the officials complained of a meat shortage, and a great trade in smuggled fowls was run at night. Feeling ran very high. Bosnia being under military occupation naturally bristled with officers and men. The officers talked very freely. Not once did I ever hear the Serbo-Bulgar convention mentioned. It was always the guns. They said it was not a question of trade in armaments. That did not matter. It was the question of policy. Serbia showed plainly now to all the world that she was ranged on the side of Russia and France against the Central Powers. "She has joined the Franco-Russian combine against us." They were quite right too, though being then unaccustomed to war, I thought their suspicions unreasonable. And neither I nor they knew that this step had followed immediately on the commencement of "military conversations" between France and England. But that this arming of Serbia was directly connected with the ringing-in policy of France and Russia is now obvious. Poor Edward VII may have thought he was peace-making, when he let Petar Karageorgevitch's gory past be forgotten and forgiven, and agreed to give up his visit to Montenegro so as not to wound that monarch's sensitive feelings--but he little knew the Balkans. Scarcely one of the Austrian military or civil authorities I spoke with had ever visited Serbia or Montenegro. They all regarded the two as semi-savage lands used as tools against them by Russia. When I arrived at Vishegrad, close on the Serb frontier, feeling was running high. Serbia showed no sign of giving way as had been expected. I told the officials their boycott was bound to fail, as you cannot starve out a people whose main assets are maize and pigs. "You will see I am right. They will simply go on eating pigs till you are tired." The Bezirksvorsteher was annoyed at this, but interested. I said "Get me a horse and a guide, and I will go into Serbia and see." He retorted It was impossible as the frontier was closed, but he hired me the horse and a very black gypsy, a wild enough creature, and I went. Was halted at the border blockhouse, which the black gypsy thought unpassable, but the Serbs were rather pleased to be inspected, telephoned through to Uzhitza, and I rode on. An amusing sidelight was the surprise of the gypsy at finding the same language both sides of the border. "But they talk Bosniak!" he cried. An aged peasant on horseback joined me and asked so many questions about London that I thought he knew something about it till he asked "Is it a free country?" He was puzzled when I said, "Yes." "But it is under Austria," he protested. "No, no," said I, "it is a free country." "Thank God," said the old boy, "and I believed it was under Austria. Bogati--so many people are under Austria. But London is not." In Serbia I found I had guessed right. "In spite of the horrible curse, nobody seemed a penny the worse." Uzhitza was in high spirits and reminisced my visit of 1902. They referred with triumph to the murder of Alexander. Since that, everything had been going splendidly. The army was everything and all possible money was to be spent on it. If Alexander had lived he would have made an alliance with Austria and have stinted the army. The army and Great Serbia was the cry. They were all for Russia. As for the wretched Draga, the ladies told me that she had received them at some function or another with powder all over her face. Imagine having to kiss the hand of such a fallen woman! (Fashions have changed now, or England would be a female slaughterhouse.) All the officers killed in her defence were stated to have been her paramours. Nothing was too bad for her. King Petar was described as one who would never interfere with the army. There was much enthusiasm over the resumed relations with England. It was obvious that no one believed that the regicides would really go; their departure was a mere matter of form. As for the boycott, they laughed and told funny tales. A bride had ordered her whole trousseau at Vienna. The wedding was fixed. But the frontier was closed. Her girl friends gallantly went to Vienna in their oldest garments; changed and came back, rather stout but triumphant, clothed in the whole trousseau. As for export, by the aid of France and England they would export to Egypt and Marseilles via Salonika. The French artillery would come in by the same route. French artillery they intended to have. I was much interested, but as I had brought no baggage could not go further into Serbia. The Mayor gave me a mounted gendarme as escort to the frontier. This impressed the Vishegrad authorities much, as did the fact that I had got across the frontier at all. The Bezirksvorsteher asked at once what I had learnt in Serbia, and if the frontier would soon be open. "I do not know," said I. "What do you think?" said he. "I think not." "Our Minister at Belgrade is of the same opinion," he replied. In truth the officers who had protested that Serbia had now openly joined the Russo-French combine were right. And what is more, through our Entente with France, we too now, consciously or not, were tools used by Russia for the making of Great Serbia and furthering Pan-Slav ambition. Serbia began to feel it safe to pull long noses at Austria. That the Austrians on the other hand regarded their occupation of Bosnia as permanent was clear. No nation merely on a temporary job of "putting things straight" would have expended the vast sums and effort needed to bring a half-wild Turkish province in twenty-eight years up to a high state of material well-being. The mountain roads are second to none in Europe. Mines, agriculture and every possible industry were being developed regardless of expense, by up-to-date methods. "The officials," I noted in my diary, "give one the impression of being overworked." Everything was centralized and had to go through the Konak. They wrestled with a mass of detail and mostly felt like exiles in a wild land. The large majority were Slavs--either Poles, Croats or Bosniaks, and these got on much better with the populace than the Magyars or Germans, of whom I met a few. The mistake of the Government was in trying to go too fast. A leap in twenty-eight years from the twelfth century or thereabouts to the twentieth was too much. The peasant intensely conservative by nature resented every change. "Better that a village should fall than a custom" is a South Slav proverb which I have heard quoted with approval. An astonishing amount of work had been done and admirably done. Future generations will profit by it. But the peasant who had had all his ideas and habits upheaved had had time to forget the oppression of the Turk, but remembered, with kindness, his slop-dawdle tolerance, This happens, I believe, in every land "freed" from the Turk. The people vaguely expect an earthly paradise where every one will do as he pleases, and find to their dismay that you can no longer evade the sheep-tax by tipping the hodja to let you put your flock on "vakuf" land. The Christian loses his privilege and has to serve in the army which he hates. He cannot run to a foreign consul for support against his Moslem neighbour, nor earn good pay by acting as spy for one Power or another. He complained bitterly that the Turkish Government never made roads or mended bridges, When he finds, however, that the new foreign government expects him to contribute to their making by giving labour, or paying tax, he is furious. "Liberty" for most Balkan Christians means liberty to massacre Moslems and take their property. The Bosnian Orthodox peasant found precisely the same law applied to him and the Moslems. The strict impartiality observed by the Austrian Government towards all three sects caused the wrath of all. "What," said a Catholic fiercely, "can you think of our Government when I tell you that a priest baptized and converted three Moslem lads, and the Government actually made him send them back to their parents and censured him because they were not of age? Not of age, if you please, and so their souls are not to be saved!" The Moslem was equally furious with the equality treatment, for he was no longer top-dog. The most remarkable work of the Austrian Government gave perhaps the most offence. It was the medical. The Bosniak, in appearance, is often a giant. But his appearance is deceptive. Stripped of his numerous waistcoats his chest measurement, as the military doctors informed me, is so poor that a larger percentage of Bosniaks were rejected from the army than in most of the other recruiting districts of Austria-Hungary. As in all South Slav lands, tuberculosis raged. "Thirty per cent, affected, without counting an apex" as a Bosnian doctor told me. And scattered over the country, but especially virulent on the eastern districts along the Serbian frontier, was syphilis. In some parts this was so rampant that the Government posted on the village walls and in the schools, notices warning persons never to drink from a glass after some one else, or wipe with the same towel, and other advice. All of which went against the custom of the people. Against tuberculosis the schools waged an anti-spitting war. A child who spat on the floor had to clean it up, which was considered a great indignity and gave great offence. Compulsory cleaning of streets to a population who regarded the street as the proper receptacle for all garbage was a further source of trouble. That the medical work produced a great improvement, that malaria, by drainage, petroleum on the ponds, and quininizing of the Population was stamped out in some districts and got in hand in others counted for nothing. They "were not our custom," they were "Schwab." The forests also were a source of friction. In old days the peasant cut what he pleased, where he pleased. His goats browsed the saplings and they grew up crooked. But they made firewood and it did not matter. No replanting ever took place. When all the wood was cut on a hillside the winter rains washed away the whole of the soil and left bare rock. A pity--but the will of God, sighed the peasant, and he went on to fell the next wood. Forestry laws infuriated him, and his disregard of them infuriated the forestry officer. A goat-tax (slight for the poor owner of a couple of goats) was instituted, rising according to number, to a sum which made the keeping of a large herd impossible. An official, to whom I remarked on what seemed to me the paucity of flocks, said, "We do not let them keep goats and they won't keep sheep. For my own part I should relax the goat laws for a while at least; they cause such resentment. But the central authorities will not do it. We have to rely largely on the sale of timber to run the country. It is one of the most valuable assets." All officials agreed in finding the people very difficult to move; very childlike in their ideas and very slow to adopt new ones. A few hated and loathed them. It was, however, not the officials but the private residents who were on bad terms with the native population, families who had come for business purposes from civilized and comfortable Austrian towns, and who would not take the trouble to learn Slav except just enough for their marketing. I had never before been in a land under foreign occupation, and commented on this attitude to some officers. They jeered at me and said, "You have evidently never been to Egypt. Wait till you have seen your own people there." I was annoyed at the time. But when some years later I went to Egypt I found the English attitude to the native worse and repented of my comments about Bosnia. One race in truth cannot see with the eyes of another. The Austrian official really tried to adapt the law to native ideas, and when unable to unravel complicated questions of native usage, even summoned the ancient council of "the good men" to decide according to local custom. A good deal of blood-vengeance still went on, but with the knife; firearms were strictly forbidden, and very few licences for them issued. This was a source of great discontent, for the carrying of arms to the South Slav peasant means manhood. The Christian's idea of liberty is to carry arms. And the fact that the Moslem also was debarred from so doing in no way consoled him. In one respect the lack of firearms was a real hardship, for Bosnia swarmed with wild pig which devastated the crops. When the corn was standing, peasants sat up all night drumming on petroleum tins around the fields to drive off beasts. There were enough wolves also to harry the flocks. An Austrian official killed ten in one night with strychnine during my visit. But the natives complained bitterly that the Government did not permit them to shoot wild beasts and did not keep them down itself. There was, I was told, very little stealing but, in the forest districts where the woodcutters all carried long handled hatchets, a blow with which was invariably fatal, there was a good deal of slaughter, as in a quarrel a man struck with whatever was handy. Only if the attack proved to be cold-blooded and pre-arranged was capital punishment inflicted. Otherwise imprisonment up to twelve years according to the circumstances. Wages were low. The peasant was very poor. Very high wages were obtainable in America, and thousands emigrated thither. They ascribed this to Austrian rule, but the same thing was happening in Montenegro, where the Government was vainly trying to stop emigration by refusing passports. It was simply an economic question of supply and demand. Labour was wanted in America at any price. The emigration had the same effect in Bosnia as in Montenegro. A large surplus of women remained behind, and the birth-rate of illegitimate children rose high and, as is perhaps inevitable with a military occupation, prostitution was common. This, though, was not the only cause of immorality in both Montenegro and Bosnia. In old days all the women of the family were the property of the men of the family, who had the right to shoot at sight any man tampering with a wife or daughter of a family group. A blood vengeance so started might mean twenty lives. The risks were not to be lightly taken. The emancipation of women and the restriction of firearms produced new complications. The Austrians were rather pleased to see emigrants leaving the land, and said they hoped they would never come back, so that they could be replaced by a better population. They were anxious to consolidate their position in Bosnia as fast as possible, so as to be ready for a forward move. "Nach Salonik" was a favourite topic of conversation. A friendly chemist at Fotcha even invited me to have tea with him under the Austrian flag at Salonika, that day three years, that is October 1909, by which time he fully expected to be established there. He considered the Government had been shamefully slow. They ought already to be well on the way there. I travelled by train from Ragusa to Mostar with a General and his daughter. She, who had just arrived, looked with wonder at the bare grey rocks we passed and asked, "Why ever did we take all these stones, father?" "Part of the price we paid Europe for Salonika, my dear!" he replied. I wintered at Serajevo, and by taking my phonograph to the Moslem coffee-houses gained some popularity, for there was but one other such instrument in Serajevo, and you had to pay to hear it. The Moslems, I soon learnt, wanted only the Padishah and hoped for the return of the Turk. Several had lived long years in Egypt. But when I told them I meant to go there they very earnestly begged me not to. All the English were very soon to be driven out or done away with, and the company unanimously agreed that it would be a very great pity that I, who had been so kind as to play the "monogram" to them for nothing, should be killed out there. I asked them to tell me truthfully what it was that the English did that was so bad. They replied very reasonably: "Everything. Nothing you do is as we do. You make yourselves fine houses and streets in Cairo. Why do you not make them in your own land and leave our land to us? We hate your things. The land is now not our land. It is all Alia Franga." You do not like our ways. We do not like yours. Go and leave our land to us." We should say just the same thing, only less politely, were we "occupied" by the Japanese. They were kind enough to say that the English were not so bad as the Schwabs, but I fear this was only out of gratitude for phonograph favours. In a private room upstairs they sang me a special ballad of the Greco-Turkish War of 1897, which began by describing how Prince George of Greece and the British Consul and some other European officials drank beer together and when they had drunk too much, planned a treacherous attack upon the Turks. It was a long song and took four hours to sing--with refreshments in the middle. I did not stay to the end. Every one, of course, believed in the guilt of the British Consul. At Serajevo I got, too, into a very Nationalist Orthodox set through the Nationalist school kept by Miss Irby. The pro-Serb party was all Orthodox, wildly anti-Turk and furiously anti-Catholic. All that was Latinski was abhorrent, and every vice and crime was imputed to the Catholic clergy. They were represented as fiends in human shape, who stole people's children and baptized them into the Roman Church. I had found similar fanaticism among the Montenegrin peasants, but did not expect it among the educated Bosnian officials and their wives. They made no secret of being in communication with Serbia, told of their expedients to smuggle in papers and dodge the police authorities. And when the windows were carefully shut used to sing "Onamo, onamo," and other forbidden Nationalist songs. In one respect I found the Orthodox exactly like the Moslems. They wanted to be top-dog and suppress the others. A pretty school mistress complained to me bitterly of the authorities who had put her to teach in a purely Catholic district, "where I can do no propaganda at all." She wanted a Parliament for Bosnia, and assured me that as the Orthodox party Was the largest they would then be able to shout the others down, from the gallery, and was naively surprised When I told her that this was forbidden in England, which she had thought was a free country. She had been taken once to the Budapest Parliament for the express purpose of screeching all the time certain members spoke. The debate ended in a free fight, and she had been hoarse for days. This idea of freedom is, of course, not unknown in England. It is the only one existing across the Adriatic. An ardent Great Serbian once explained: "When Great Serbia is made we mean to have religious equality everywhere. For instance, in Ragusa there are two monasteries, both Catholic. This is unjust. When it is ours, one will be Orthodox and one Catholic." "Which do you mean to rob then, the Franciscans or the Dominicans?" he was asked. "Rob!" he said, much hurt. "We are going to make religious equality. One must be Orthodox and one Catholic." And this he continued to repeat, though it was urged that in this case one or the other order must be deprived of its monastery, and that, moreover, the vast majority of Ragusa is Catholic. But Liberty is a glorious thing, and I found the Orthodox heartily approved of Alexander's murder as one step towards it. By now I had learned that even officials in Austrian employ were working against the Austrian Government. A friend of mine, who was also much interested in things South Slavonic, wrote at this time and suggested I should join the Slovenski Jug Society then recently formed. But as it was made clear to me that these so-called patriotic associations were plotting against the Austrian Government I decided that I, as a British subject, should steer clear of them, more especially as one could not tell to what lengths they would go. I had been on the brink of the plot for the destruction of Alexander Obrenovitch, a sufficiently alarming precedent, so I declined to become a member of the Slovenski Jug, preferring a front seat at the drama to being possibly dragged onto the stage. As one of my objects in this journey was to see Christmas customs in a peasant house I determined to leave for Montenegro, where I could do so easily, and left the tense political atmosphere of Bosnia with some relief. CHAPTER FOURTEEN 1907 Blindly and bloodily we drift.--MASEFIELD. The thirteen days' difference between the Old and New Style enabled me to spend Christmas 1906 at Serajevo, and celebrate it a second time in old Serb fashion in Krsto's hut at Nyegushi in January 1907. Montenegro lay deep under snow, all mountain tracks buried. Life in the villages was rough and severe. We celebrated Christmas, the New Year, the Blessing of the Waters, and St. Sava. But by leaving Bosnia I had not found peace. The undercurrent of discontent with the government was more marked than last year. Even in Nyegushi, the birthplace of the Prince, there were growlings. What was done with all the money? The most hateful and wearisome work in all the world was guarding flocks on the mountain. Therefore a herdsman should be paid more than a chinovnik (official). Nevertheless every youth aspired to be a chinovnik, because then you could retire early with a pension. Many men had lately returned from America with pockets full of cash. They preached that the duty of a government was to make "jobs." They used the English word, and their audience had not the least idea what "jobs" meant, except that it was a highly desirable something which brought in money. America was a republic, and in America there were "jobs." Therefore, if you had a republic you would have "jobs." The new Parliament roused no enthusiasm. The Prince could veto its decisions, and its members had but childish notions. The old idea of local soviets was not extinct, nor their rivalry with the tribe next door. Many a member consequently thought it his duty to his constituents to veto a road for another district, until his own had been supplied, without seeing that at this rate nothing could be done. Dr. Marusitch was clamouring to remove the capital to Danilovgrad, and make other sweeping changes. Tomanovitch, the Prime Minister, and his son, aide-de-camp to the Prince, were hated and reported to have sinister influence. Those still faithful to the Gospodar blamed him for giving up his official power. Cetinje, however, was excited over a new subject. A manager from Earl's Court had come to invite Montenegro to take part in a Balkan States Exhibition. Highly flattered, Montenegro had signed the agreement without the ghost of idea what to do or how to do it. The show was to open in May. Montenegro, of course, could not possibly be ready by then, so I was asked by the committee to write a letter informing the management that the exhibition must be postponed till July, or whenever Montenegro was ready. I explained that this was no use in England. Montenegro must be ready--or drop out. They argued: "But when the London people hear there is going to be an exhibition they will change their season to suit it." I retorted: "Whenever I want you to do something you say: 'Nije nash obitchaj!'" (It is not our custom). "Now we say this to you." And I hustled them. Petar Plamenatz was the Secretary for Home Affairs. He was to give me facts--imports, exports, education, post, telegraph, etc.--for an article on Montenegro for the catalogue. Every morning he said: "To-morrow without fail I will give you all the figures." And every evening: "Mon Dieu, it is impossible. I am tired!" He had two hours free at midday and all his evenings. At the last minute, when told the thing must go to press, he said: "But why all this anxiety about facts, Mademoiselle? Write what you please. I am sure it will be charming!" I wrote an essay, which necessarily contained no point of commercial importance, and insisted that he must hear it before it was sent as an official Montenegrin production. "But I have a headache," said Petar. "What does that matter?" said I, and I made him hear it. He said it was admirable, and added no single fact. And he was one of the Intelligentzia upon whom the fate of Europe later depended. At this time I was daily teaching English to one of the schoolmasters, an interesting task, as it showed me the total lack of discipline there is in the education of the average Near Eastern. He had a good deal of brain power and a certain amount of information, but was totally unable to make himself do anything he disliked, even when he knew it to be necessary. Would not begin with simple things because he was not a child. And when he could not understand difficult ones, flung the papers on the floor and stamped on them, vowing he would never do English again. I smiled and said: "Very well. Don't. It does not matter to me. Goodbye." To which he would exclaim: "Good God, what fish blood. But with your sangfroid you are a born Professor. I lose my temper with my class twenty times a day." He had the impossible Near Eastern ideas of Liberty. Briefly: "Do as you please, and damn the rest!" Was an ardent "Great Serbian," but was not a Montenegrin, and when "freedom" was attained hoped to force Montenegro into the correct path. His idea of education was primitive. He despised every form of game, exercise, and gymnastics as waste of time, and had never done any himself. "That is why you are so absurdly neurotic and you have never learnt to keep your temper." I chaffed him. He retorted: "Fishblood, fishblood." An interesting specimen of the Intelligentzia. Meanwhile Prince Nikola became anxious about Earl's Court. He sent for me, took a gold medal from his breeches pocket, and gave it to me with the request that I would go to England, see the managers of the exhibition, and keep an eye on the exhibition when opened. A staff of Montenegrins was to come over and manage the section. Meanwhile, in order that it should become widely known, he thought it would be a good thing if I told all my friends there was going to be an exhibition, and ask them to tell theirs. Thus the news might be spread through London. That exhibition would take a volume in itself. Briefly, Bulgaria, Serbia, and Montenegro were represented. Montenegro, with characteristic laisser faire, never appointed a commissary at all, and the work all fell on me. Fortunately, in fact, for I was the buffer state between Serbia and Bulgaria, who were at daggers-drawn. At the necessary meetings the Serb Commissioner talked German and Serb into one of my ears, while the Bulgar shouted French and Bulgar into the other, and the English manager at intervals begged me to "tell him what was the matter." Even when invited out for a day in the country the Serb and Bulgar peasants refused to dance together. John Bull did his best to work up an anti-Serb demonstration more than once. But though we balanced on the edge of hostilities, the Balkan War did not break out at Earl's Court. I have often thought since it was a pity the Foreign Office did not study our methods. The five Montenegrins who came "to help" were far too proud to do any work at all, or associate with any of the others. They looked on the Bulgars as foreigners, and despised the Serbs. Montenegro's attitude was shown by Petar Plamenatz, who arrived for a week's visit as special Commissioner for Montenegro just in time for the opening ceremony, when I had done the whole preliminary work of arranging the show. Lord Fitzmaurice invited all the Balkan representatives to lunch. I translated the invitation to Petar. "I shall not go," said he. "I have a headache." "That makes nothing," said I, "you are here to represent Montenegro. This invitation is an honour, and I accept it for you." Petar was surprised. He had naively imagined that as Commissioner for Montenegro it was he who conferred the honour upon Lord Fitzmaurice. He went, however. I asked how the party had gone off. "It was really extraordinary," said Petar. "Do you know that of all the Balkan representatives, I was the only one who knew how to conduct myself in a comme il faut manner!" The next invitation, a dinner, he flatly refused to accept. I was still more resolved that if I had to "run" the exhibition for Montenegro, Petar should continue to behave comme il faut. He dodged and excused vainly. I wrung the truth from him. He had no clean shirt. It is the only time I ever bought an evening shirt for a gentleman. Petar left after the most strenuous week of his life. Nothing, however, would induce his five compatriots to do anything at all, and just as they thought they had demonstrated that as the finest representatives of the South Slav stock, their mission in life was to exist and look beautiful, to their intense surprise the management sent them home. Meanwhile, our inability to obtain any reply to business questions from Montenegro was explained by the sudden news of the discovery of a plot to assassinate Prince Nikola, and, it was said, his family, too. Our five Montenegrins received letters from home full of the wildest details, which they all believed, showing that the country was in a whirl, and that the Exhibition must be steered! without any further aid from the homeland. Numbers! of arrests had been made. Russia was said to be implicated in the plot, for the girls of the Russian Institute had trampled on the Prince's portrait at the bidding of Sofia Petrovna, its head! After this the whole work of the Montenegrin section was wasted. Not one of the trade openings we found--some very good--were taken up, and no letters were replied to. Montenegro, though she did not realize it, had in truth reached the turning-point of her history. She was no longer the recognized leader of the Great Serbian movement. During the years when Serbia was "in Coventry" Montenegro had done nothing to strengthen her position, save some futile posing to journalists as "the one good boy." Now Serbia, with Russia behind her, was to the fore. Montenegro's tide was about to ebb. I wrote strongly to the Montenegrin Government that it was most necessary to appoint a representative in London. I would not myself go on doing the work of a consul Without authority or pay. Preferably they should send a Montenegrin. If not, I suggested two Englishmen willing to do the work, one of whom they appointed next year. It was a step in advance, but it was too late. Serbia, completely whitewashed, re-established a Legation and a commercial agency, and began an energetic propaganda. Meanwhile an event of world-wide importance Took place. On August 31, 1907, the Anglo-Russian agreement was signed. The Anglo-Russian difficulties of the Middle East were arranged, and Russia was free to turn all her attention towards Constantinople. She was lavishly supplied with French gold, and could count on French military support. France was already arming and aiding her Balkan ally, Serbia. And Russia, without doubt, was aware of the "military conversations" of France and England. Possibly the agreement with Russia was one outcome of them. It is noteworthy that though England had "agreed" with Russia, so little did she realize the possibilities of the Near East, that we were the only Great Power which had no permanent representative in Montenegro, and no representative at all on the East of the Balkan peninsula, save Mr. Summa, our Albanian Vice-consul at Scutari. Austria retorted to the steps being taken by the Russo-French group by obtaining from the Sultan permission to build a railway from Uvatz, on the Bosnian frontier, to Mitrovitza, which would link up Serajevo with Salonika. The Balkan railway question had been rankling for years. The Slav wanted an east-and-west line to connect with the Adriatic. The Teuton a north-south one to reach the Aegean. Neither would allow the other's plan to mature. I used to get much amusement in mixed company by proposing various railway lines and hearing the violent denunciations or applause that followed, according to the political aims of those present. The Turks have been freely blamed for neither constructing railways nor allowing others to do so. But to be fair, one is bound to admit that they knew very well such lines would be used for strategical purposes, and they lived in terror of the Slav Adriatic line. Before judging Abdul Hamid harshly, let us consider at what period we should have allowed Russia to build and control a line across India "to advance trade." The year 1908 opened with the railway question. Russia and Serbia furious about the Uvatz-Mitrovitza scheme. The Morning Post, it is of interest to note, was markedly pro-Austrian. I remembered four points: (1) The Austrians' boast that they would be in Salonika by 1909; (2) The Pasha of Plevlje's statement that Austria had more troops in the Sanjak than she was entitled to; (3) The oft-repeated statement of Serb and Montenegrin that the Austrian gendarmerie officers superintending "reforms" in Macedonia smuggled in arms; (4) That Serbs and Montenegrins were also arming and carrying on a sharp Great Serbian propaganda in Bosnia, the Herzegovina, and the Sanjak. In the great race Austria now seemed a neck ahead, riding Uvatz to Salonika. CHAPTER FIFTEEN 1908. A FATEFUL YEAR Europe was now definitely divided into two camps, each arming against the other. Plots thickened, and events crowded on one another. So knotted did the Balkan threads become, it is hard to untwine them. One thing must be remembered, and that is that at the centre of the knot was always Constantinople. To which Power or group should it belong? I arrived in Cetinje at the end of April to find things about as bad as they could be. Depression was general, and the place in a hush of terror. Every one hastened to warn me against every one else. The Prince was due next day on his return from Petersburg, whence great things were expected, and a general holiday was proclaimed in honour of the event. Mourning added to the general gloom, for the two infant sons of Prince Mirko, the only direct heirs to the throne, had died within a month or two of each other of tubercular meningitis. Baby Stefan had been playfully called Stefan Dushan II, with the hope that he would reign at Prizren--and he was dead. All hope of a child to Prince Danilo had been given up; much had died with Baby Stefan. Some even hinted at foul play, but this suspicion was quite groundless, for tuberculosis was rapidly spreading in the land; it is worth mentioning only as showing the mental state of the country. On the other side were murmurs deep and sinister against the Prince and his line, the first growl of a storm. The prisons were full. Folk whispered of many untried prisoners. Some Who had befriended me in former years were not only in prison, but in heavy irons --Gjurovitch, who had been a minister, and poor garrulous Dr. Marusitch. His wife had snatched her husband's revolver and fired at the gendarme who arrested him. The peasants of Drobnjak had tried to prevent the arrest of Serb agents who were distributing revolutionary leaflets, printed in Belgrade. Soldiers were sent to enforce the arrests. Some had refused to act, and had had some heavy sentences inflicted on them. It was all part of the Great Serbian movement. The Montenegrin Government would send no more students to Belgrade to be corrupted. The very morning after my arrival Tomanovitch, the Prime Minister, sent for me. He was extremely anxious and nervous, and asked what the English papers said about the plot against Prince Nikola. I told him the English Press had said little beyond reporting unrest in Montenegro. He hurried to deny there was any, and said he wished me to know the truth. Prince Nikola had behaved with the greatest moderation, and had even permitted Dr. Marusitch to visit his sick child. The plot against the Prince had been planned by wicked enemies from outside. What did I intend writing to the papers on the subject? I had been but a few hours in Cetinje, but perceived the affair was a bad one, and as I knew people on both sides it would be hard to avoid being dragged into it. I replied therefore that I had written nothing, and intended writing nothing to the papers, and wished to take no part in Montenegro's internal affairs. He was visibly relieved and thanked me. We parted on friendly terms, he assuring me that he wanted me to know the "truth." So did every one else. And it was always different. One side said that so soon as the people had had a voice, a wild scramble for place and power had ensued; that "freedom of the Press" had loosed such a flood of scurrility, abuse, and libel that it had to be suppressed by force; that finding themselves thwarted, a gang of malcontents had plotted to assassinate the Prince--some said Prince Danilo, too--and to seize power themselves; that they had been in communication with Russia and Serbia, and had arranged the affair in the latter country; that severe example should be made, and wholesale executions take place. On the other hand, folk said that the Prince, furiously jealous of power, had offered the "Constitution" merely as a pretence to Europe that he was up-to-date, and had so arranged as to retain autocracy; that he purposely suppressed knowledge, kept out literature, and encouraged only the narrowest education in order to retain power and keep folk ignorant; that those arrested were the cream of the land, all the most advanced spirits, all those who were for civilization; that even schoolboys had been hunted down like wild beasts and thrown into prison as political offenders; that no one's life was safe; that spies were everywhere, who curried favour with the Petrovitches by the numbers they arrested; that the prisoners were miserably maltreated. The more moderate declared the Prince to be helpless in a "ring;" that by rashly giving the Constitution he had deprived himself largely of power, and no longer knew what went on; that, till he gave up administering justice eight years before, he had been "the father of his flock," and knew all about everything. Now he had lost touch and would never regain it. They hoped for a general amnesty of all prisoners. The Prince's return from Russia was melancholy. He was reported to be suffering from a feverish attack, and the Princess, too, was very unwell. His journey was believed to have been a failure. The Russians of Cetinje received me with extraordinary enthusiasm. Filled with joy for the Anglo-Russian agreement, Sofia Petrovna, of the Russian Institute, kissed me over and over again. The Institute was a feature of Cetinje, and Sofia Petrovna was its queen. It was the Pan-Slav centre of the whole district, where Slav girls, brought in from Turkish and Austrian districts--girls from Prizren, girls from Bosnia and Dalmatia, as well as Montenegrin girls, were brought up to Serbism and belief in Holy Russia. Mademoiselle was stout, ruddy, And amazingly energetic; autocratic, but good-natured. Her lean, restless-eyed subordinate, Alexandrovna, however, drove the pupils the way they should go with pitiless severity, and perhaps as a result the girls of the Institute were all said to leave it finished intriguers. The glory of Holy Russia was what Sofia Petrovna lived for. Russia and England were now united, and she dreamed dreams and saw visions. Russia's path was clear. Her dominion over all Europe and all Asia merely a matter of time. Sofia was enchanted. "Ah, my dear! What is your Empire? Your ambitions are nothing to ours. Nothing, nothing. Till now you have stood in our path. Now we shall march together. Russia is God's agent. You will give us your practicalness. We shall give you our beautiful religion. For at present you know you have none!" Borne on a wave of enthusiasm, she pressed me to spend Good Friday and Easter Sunday at the Institute and take part in the celebrations. The gathering was very Russian. I was astonished at the difference made by the Anglo-Russian agreement. Hitherto the Legation had been distantly polite. Had sometimes asked questions, but never supplied information. Now nothing could exceed their friendliness. Together England and Russia were to fight Germany, and I said in vain I had no wish to. "Your commerce necessitates it," they declared. They considered Austria's railway scheme to Salonika as a direct insult "which we shall never permit." About Montenegro they despaired. The Prince was riding to ruin. All Russians who visited him were pained to find him surrounded with Austrian Slavs, Gregovitch, Tomanovitch, Ramadanovitch, even his doctor, Perisitch--all from Austria. The very servants in the palaces often Austrian or German. The arrests had been directed by senseless fear; he had alienated the sympathy of the best in the land; could brook no rival; had quarrelled with his Petrovitch relations; listened only to flatterers who directed him against Russia. Finally, they blamed him severely for the Constitution, which he had promulgated! without consulting Russia.. Even she--Sofia Petrovna--who had given twenty years of her life to Montenegro and spared no pains; even she was now the victim of anti-Russian intrigue, and accused of the childish folly of bidding her girls trample on the Prince's portrait! Her girls--in a school paid for largely by the Dowager Tsaritsa! Oh, it was too much. And the Prince had believed it, and informed her that never again would the Royal Family visit the school (nor, in fact, did they). Tears stood in the poor lady's eyes. Her school had been the meeting-place of the intelligentzia. Ministers, priests, and officials had sought her advice. Now persons wishing to curry favour with the Prince had maligned her. A lying, treacherous race, said one of the Russians. But poor Sofia, through her tears, said they were foolish and misled. Both she and the Secretary of Legation wanted me to ask, for an audience with the Prince, but I decided not to be mixed in anybody's plots, so merely left a card at the Palace, where I learnt that the Prince was still very unwell. A report of a conversation between Vesnitch, Serbian Minister in Paris, and Izvolsky, October 1908 (see Bogitchcvitch, xvii), throws light on what had occurred. "You must," said Izvolsky, "however, soon come to an understanding with Montenegro. The scandalous discord which exists between Belgrade and Cetinje must be cleared off the carpet. We have most urgently pressed this on Prince Nikola when he was in Petersburg." The Prince, we may surmise, went to ask Russian support, received no sympathy, began to realize he was no longer Russia's "only friend," and was filled with sick anxiety. The Montenegrins, too, were much excited about the Anglo-Russian agreement. Vuko Vuletitch said cheerfully: "Now you can fight Germany." And the usual group round the hotel door cried: "Of course you will. For what else is this Entente? You must fight soon, or you will lose all your trade." They looked forward to an Anglo-Russian Paradise, where the Teuton ceased from troubling. I fear it is not so joyful as they anticipated. Vuko Vukotitch was as sore as Sofia Petrovna. He, too, had been accused of anti-Petrovitch sympathies, and threatened with the boycott of his hotel. He was seeking influential marriages for his many daughters. The eldest, Madame Rizoff, as wife of the Bulgarian diplomatic agent, was already playing a part in politics. Rumour said he had been on the point of affiancing another to one of the men now in prison. I decided that Cetinje was no place for me, and that I would carry out my long deferred plan of a tour in the Albanian mountains. Sofia Petrovna pressed upon me an introduction to M. Lobatcheff, the Russian Vice-Consul at Scutari, and thither I went, leaving Cetinje to stew in its own juice. It was anthropology I wanted, not plots. My work and travels in High Albania I have told elsewhere. I shall here only indicate the political happenings, for I did not escape them by going from Montenegro. In the Balkans you may change your mind any number of times, but you never change your sky full of Power-clouds. All Europe was represented at Scutari, as in Cetinje, but by Consuls, not Ministers. A difference mainly in name, for they were there for the same purpose, and in Turkish territory even a Vice-Consul, if of an energetic and bullying nature, had almost as much influence as a Minister Plenipotentiary. For the Turks lived in terror of the Great Powers who squatted round the edge waiting an opportunity to pounce, and allowed consuls to do things unthinkable in any other land. During the late war America was roused to frenzy because the German representatives there tried to work a German propaganda. But for over a century the representative of every Power that wanted a bit of Turkey, not only worked ceaselessly by similar means, but had a private post office by which to convey and distribute the correspondence of any revolutionaries his country was supporting; had spies everywhere, and could, should any of his minions be caught red-handed by the Turkish authorities, obtain and demand their release, if not by fair means, then by foul. The Turks could not even close a brothel, if protected, as it frequently was, by a Great Power. In Scutari, in 1908, Austria and Italy were both working strenuously to obtain influence over Albania. Austria had had a long start. Italy was now a good second. One made a hospital, the other replied with a home for the aged. One played a dispensary, the other an infant school, and so on, regardless of expense. Russia, who hoped ultimately to obtain Albanian lands for the Serbs, made a very bad third, for the Slav element in Scutari and its district was so small as to be practically negligible, and she could not work, as did her rivals, by means of churches and schools. There were but a few Slav families, mainly those whose ancestors had fled from Montenegro or the Herzegovina to escape from bloodvengeance, with a sprinkling of late comers who were "wanted" by the Montenegrin police. A tiny school and church were all they could fill. M. Lobatcheff and Petar Plamenatz, however, gave all their energies to working on this element and keeping it as discontented as possible. Lobatcheff was very friendly to me. Being introduced by the Russians in Cetinje, I was expected to supply and convey information. The politics of the little consular world are funny. I found that the fact that he--Lobatcheff--representing All the Russias, had as a mere Vice-Consul to walk behind Petar Plamenatz, representing All Montenegro as a Consul-General, rankled most bitterly. He, too, like the Russian Legation at Cetinje, made no concealment of his belief that Montenegro had taken the wrong turning, and was on the down grade; said the Prince, after the wholesale arrests of last summer, would never regain his position and popularity. But I would not be attached to the Russian consulate, nor to any other party, and made the acquaintance also of the attache to the Austrian Consulate, a charming and cultivated Viennese, who was my very good friend. Austria was represented by an arch-plotter, Consul-General Krai, who worked the pro-Austrian propaganda; the same man who was in Monastir when I was there in 1903-4, and he did not like my reappearance in Scutari. Count Mancinelli represented Italy. France had not in 1908 begun her pro-Slav intrigues in Albania, and had but a feeble representative, who picked quarrels with the Austrian attache over the latter's bulldog. But as in the Near East even a consular dog is suspected of politics, this may, for all I know, have been the first sproutling of France's subsequent conduct. The Austrian Consulate-General, with Krai at its head, was easily top-dog in Scutari then. The Slavs punned on his name: "Krai hoche bit' Kralj!" (Krai wants to be king). Especially he looked on the mountains as an Austrian preserve, and sent parties of Austrians there. The Turkish Government, acutely suspicious of "tourists," consequently forbade all strangers to travel inland--pretending danger. Just before my arrival, an Englishman, who arrived with letters to the Vali from our Embassy at Constantinople, had been refused a permit to travel inland, and had gone for a tour in Montenegro instead. Our dear old Albanian Vice-Consul, M. Nikola Summa, however, said that if I would go without permission the tour could be easily managed. And so it was. The now notorious Essad Pasha, then Bey, was head of the Scutari gendarmerie, and I dodged his patrols successfully in the grey dawn. Essad, known through the land as "the tyrant of Tirana," had till recently commanded gendarmerie at Janina. By his unscrupulous extortions and his quarrels he had made the place too hot to hold him, and had been transferred to Scutari, where he was very unpopular. The tale current about him was that he had married a second wife because his first had not borne him a son; that he lived in terror of being poisoned by the discarded lady, and Scutari cheerfully wished her speedy success. Head of the family of Toptani of Tirana, he was known to be very ambitious, and was therefore employed by the Turkish Government, who thought it safer to make a friend than a foe of him. His elder brother, Gani Bey, had been murdered in Constantinople some years earlier, by a son of the Grand Vezir by order, it was said, of Abdul Hamid. The murder had been dramatically avenged by Gjujo Fais, one of Gani's serving men, who shot the assassin in broad daylight on the Galata bridge. A spirited ballad, one of the most popular in the land, describes this feat. Gjujo's life was spared, but 'in 1908 he was still in prison, and Essad was despised for having left his brother to be avenged by a servant. Essad took vengeance later, as we shall see. In the Albanian mountains, as in Bosnia, it was impossible not to wonder at the great work done by Austria. Every Catholic tribe had its neat and usually well-caredfor church, whose priest lived hard by in a house rough, it is true, but superior in its arrangements to the average native dwelling. Europe had entrusted Austria with the care of the Catholics of North Albania. She had trained priests, built and maintained churches and hospices, had built the Cathedral of Scutari, and established and protected the first Albanian schools of the North. Austria had carried out Europe's behest well. With but few exceptions all the mountain priests were Albanians, and almost all had had part of their training in Austria. In knowledge and intelligence they were much ahead of the almost untrained "popas" of Montenegro, who had never been beyond their own borders. In the case of the higher ecclesiastical orders the difference was even more marked, for they included many very cultivated and able men. The Catholic quarter of Scutari had greatly advanced since my first visit in 1901. New shops and businesses had been opened, and the streets repaved. I made the acquaintance of many of the townsfolk, and was struck by-the far higher standard of cleanliness to be found here than in Cetinje. The idea that the Montenegrin could teach civilization to the Albanian was patently absurd. Scutari was hotly excited over the bomb affair of Cetinje. The trial of the prisoners, who had been in close confinement for nearly a year, came on in May. Scutari, as a whole, expressed disgust for the Montenegrins: "Nikita," folk said, "is our enemy. But he has done well for Montenegro. If God had given us a Prince like him we should have known how to value him." Petar Plamenatz left Scutari to defend the prisoners, and his consular colleagues--including Lobatcheff --foretold that all would receive heavy sentences, for they had no great opinion of Petar's powers. The trial proved highly sensational. The fact that a good deal of evidence was given by a Bosnian journalist--one Nastitch--who was proved later in the Frledjung trial to be a discreditable witness, has led to the erroneous opinion in some quarters that the plot was a bogus affair. But the plot was a very genuine one, as I learnt beyond all doubt from my own observations, from details given me by relatives of some of the men implicated, and other Montenegrin sources. It was, in fact, the first round in the death-or-victory struggle for supremacy between the Karageorgevitches and the Petrovitches, the prize for which was to be the headship of Great Serbia. I had learnt already in 1905 the growing ill-feeling against Prince Nikola, and had remarked that his most bitter critics had lived in Russia or Serbia. There was also talk of a widespread secret society, known as the Club. A club in the Near East means something revolutionary. The people of Andrijevitza, who told me later on in hushed whispers about the "Clubashi," were amazed to hear that in London the police permitted clubs to exist in the best thoroughfares. The Clubashi went round the country spreading Great Serbian propaganda. Its headquarters were in Belgrade, where it worked by inciting the numerous Montenegrin students to revolution. The brother of one of these students, and the son of one of the arrested men, both gave me details. The students met in an eating-house at Belgrade, since notorious, "At the sign of the Green Garland" (Zelenom Vjencu). Great Serbia could not have two heads. The Petrovitches were therefore to be rendered impotent. All the powder and ammunition magazines of Montenegro were to be simultaneously seized, and the Prince was to be killed, or--and many preferred this--terrorized into abdication. Nikola was represented by the propagandists as the tyrant that stood in Great Serbia's path. Any one who has passed hours and days in Near Eastern eating-houses and cafes knows the ceaseless political altercations which go on and the violence of the sentiments habitually expressed, heightened ever by one glass more of rakia, "josh jedan!" The South Slav is a born orator, and sweeps away himself and his listeners on a flood of eloquence. I have seen livid wrath over mere trivialities. Had our Foreign Office but graduated in a Balkan pot-house its outlook on things Near Eastern would have been greatly extended. The plot against Prince Nikola failed, for one of the said students had doubts about it and wrote to his brother, who held an official position in Montenegro, hinting at sinister events. The recipient told me that he feared at first that his brother was mixed in the affair, and wrote a very strong remonstrance. In return the boy supplied the Montenegrin Government with full details as to the routes by which the conspirators would enter the country with their bombs. They were all arrested on arrival. Some came via Cattaro, others overland to Andrijevitza, for the Vassojevitch tribe, together with the Bratonitchitch and the Drobnjaci, were deeply dipped in the plot, and in touch with the propaganda worked by Serb komitadjis in the district between Serbia and Montenegro. Vassojevitch paid heavily. Three of her finest youths were condemned to be publicly shot. The whole population, including even the mothers of the condemned, were ordered to witness the execution, and to the further anguish of the relatives the bodies were buried "like dogs" by the wayside. Such was the plot. The question was: Who was behind the Montenegrin students in Belgrade, and who supplied the bombs? These came from the Royal Serbian arsenal at Kraguyevatz, where, in 1902, I had heard so much of Karageorgism. It was asserted at the trial that Prince George of Serbia had been concerned in obtaining them. That they were brought from Serbia by Montenegrins was proven. It was then clearly the duty of the Serbian Government to investigate into a conspiracy planned on its own soil against a neighbour state and punish the supplier of Government bombs. It not only, however, refused to extradite certain Montenegrin students, who were suspect, but it made no arrests, asserted violently it knew nothing of the plot, took no steps to obtain information, and withdrew its representative from Montenegro. To one who, like myself, knew from personal experience that you cannot even draw a cow or buy a carpet in Serbia without the knowledge of the Serbian police, the conduct of the Serbian Government was entirely unconvincing, and the obvious reply to Serbia's "We know nothing," was "But it is your business to know and to take such steps as to make it impossible in the future for a gang of students in a pot-house in the capital to plot the murder of a neighbour sovereign, and to obtain Government bombs for the purpose. Who superintends the foreign students in your capital?" Pashitch, when interviewed on the subject, replied only that Montenegro had made demands for extradition "completely incompatible with our constitution and laws, and so they could not be fulfilled." He was Prime Minister during part of this troublous time, but did nothing to make peace between the two rival Serb nations. Montenegro claimed that even before the discovery of the plot Belgrade knew that something was happening, as Serb papers had been carrying on an anti-Petrovitch propaganda openly, and had reported that the Montenegrin students of Belgrade University had read a proclamation calling on Montenegrins to revolt. Of the accused, several turned informers against others, and asked for pardon. Others begged for light sentences, but did not deny guilt. The ex-Minister Gjurovitch denied all complicity, and so did poor Marusitch, but his wild and loudly expressed plans for turning Montenegro upside down and inside out went hopelessly against him. Both men got heavy sentences. Lobatcheff, the Russian Vice-Consul, was furious at the arrest of Marusitch, the ex-Russian military surgeon, declared him a harmless chatterbox, and said Prince Nikola had lost his head. So had all Montenegro. Neither party knew which would come out "top-dog"; each suspected the other, and spies and treachery were rampant. Prince Nikola leapt at any evidence that would help him crush his enemies, and Nastitch, the spy, took advantage of his terror to help widen the gap that already yawned between Serbia and Montenegro. The Prince was terrified. Not only was his life threatened, but even if that were spared he dreaded losing the one thing for which he had lived and striven--the throne of Great Serbia. That Austria, as some have stated, should have planned the coup is very improbable. For one thing, its object was to strengthen Serbia by joining the two states under one dynasty. Not even Sofia Petrovna nor Lobatcheff, both red-hot believers in Holy Russia and haters of Austria, ever even suggested to me that Austria was the cause: they ascribed it all to Nikola's own folly, and were pro-Serb. That Austria should try to take advantage of the complication was but natural. Among the accused who got crushingly heavy sentences of imprisonment in irons was Radovitch, since well known as one of Nikola's fiercest opponents. He was known as a "Clubashi," and as an engineer had built the prison at Podgoritza, to which he was now doomed. "My God, why did I build cells like this?" is said to have been his cry on entering, for the prison was inhuman in its arrangements. "True or false," I noted in my diary at the time, "the charge against the Crown Prince George of Serbia will probably split Serbia and Montenegro. ... I hope old Nikola's reign won't end in fiasco." By the time the trial was ended much else had happened. In June King Edward and the Tsar had met at Reval. England and Russia had indeed "agreed." And things were acute in Morocco. The junior staff of the Austrian consulate chaffed me, and asked when we meant to fight Germany. I declared "Never." My friend the attache assured me that if we went on in the way we were going we should be obliged to have military conscription. The Macedonian question now was acute. England was believed to have arranged with Russia to take active steps in Turkey. We discussed it endlessly. The attache used to dine with me, and we agreed that our respective countries were guilty. If the Powers wished, they could establish order easily. No Power wanted order. Each was seeking its own interests. Never has there been more hypocritical humbug talked by both great and small Powers than over Macedonia. They handed moral letters about law and order to the Turk with one hand, and with the other distributed revolutionary funds to effectually prevent the establishment of either. Each group preferred to burn up the whole place rather than let the other get a bit of it. The ethics of the situation were illustrated by Lobatcheff, who asked me whether I thought Montenegro safe for tourists. On my replying that I had had no difficulties, he told me that a Czech had very recently been murdered there for his money, and his body cut to pieces and hidden. The Montenegrin peasants had declared that, contrary to their advice, he had gone over the Albanian frontier, and the remains had only been accidentally discovered. Lobatcheff had had the details from Dr. Perisitch, the Prince's physician, who had made the post mortem. Next day the Austrian attache came laughing, and told how some Czech tourists had just arrived, and at once bought and put on fezzes as a protection against the "fanatical inhabitants," who, so they had been told in Cetinje, had lately murdered a Czech. I gave him Lobatcheff's report, which put a very different complexion on the matter. When it was too late Lobatcheff came to beg me to consider the tale of the murder as strictly confidential. The Austrians were on no account to hear of it! Nor could I make him see that it was only fair to warn others beside Russians and English. In fact Lobatcheff's ideas were little less crude than those of Montenegro. Like the Cetinje folk, he expected that the result of the Anglo-Russian agreement would be that Russia would get all she wanted, and was vexed that I took up the cause of the Albanians. The more I saw of the Albanians and of the Slav intrigues for their destruction, the more I thought Albania worthy of help. The enterprising and industrious Albanian was worth a dozen of the conceited idle Montenegrins. Except Prince Nikola and the hotelier Vuke Vuletitch, it was hard to find a Montenegrin in Cetinje who used his brains--if he had any. An educated Albanian is often a highly cultivated man, whereas even Lobatcheff was forced to admit that Paris and Petersburg could not make more of a Montenegrin than a Petar Plamenatz or a Marusitch. Nor was the Austrian Consul Kral better pleased with my Albanian travels. It was reported to him that whereas the mountains had formerly been pro-Austrian, they had become, since my visit, entirely pro-English. He concluded, ridiculously enough, that I was sent by the British Government, and made a long report to Vienna about me, as I ascertained later. I was unaware then of the activity being shown by the Franco-Russian combine and England, and thought his anxiety overdone. To an outside observer, however, Anglo-Russian activity also seemed perilous. Baron Greindl, Belgian Minister at Berlin at that very time, wrote (July 4, Letter 49): "I asked the Secretary of State yesterday ... if he had not yet received the English proposals with regard to reforms in Macedonia. .. . I said that another point seemed disquieting to me, viz. the way in which the preliminary pourparlers were conducted between London and St. Petersburg to the exclusion of Austria-Hungary, whose interests were of the most importance in Balkan affairs." That Krai spied my movements is perhaps under these circumstances not surprising, more especially as Lobatcheff, who hated him, called out derisively to him at a friendly gathering of all the Consuls: "Have not you found out what the English-woman is here for yet?" which made matters worse. The political tension was felt even in the remote corners of the Albanian mountains. Tribesmen vaguely expected war. An Austrian advance in the Sanjak was rumoured. I was up in the mountains when the astounding news arrived that there had been a Turkish revolution. It was incredible. I hastened to Scutari. Not one Consulate as yet had any information, except that a Constitution had been proclaimed. Scutari was wildly excited. The foreign representatives were sceptical and contemptuous. The thing was impossible. Not till Sunday, August 2nd, did the official proclamations and rejoicing begin. Then all North Albania was wild with joy. Moslem and Christian united. It was believed that Europe had intervened, and the Turk would rule no more. The mountain men swarmed down in their best, were feasted by the town, shouted "Long live Constituzi," and fired their rifles till not a cartridge was left in the town. Yet with over two thousand armed men in the town for two days and nights, and no police force to cope with an outbreak, not a single disorder occurred. Every one was far too happy to do wrong, and enjoyed themselves wholeheartedly. Even the French Consul and Lobatcheff, who did not conceal their anti-Albanian feelings, said: "Mon Dieu! what a people this would be if they had a just ruler!" The Mirdites were cautious. Their Abbot, Premi Dochi, waited to see which way the wind blew before committing his flock. In reply to the newly-appointed Vali, who asked why the Mirdites did not come to take the oath of fealty, he replied that when he was allowed to return from exile to Mirdita, he promised that he would concern himself solely with spiritual affairs, and was therefore powerless; that the only head the Mirdites recognized was Prenk Bib Doda, their chief, who was unfortunately in exile still at Constantinople. He alone could put matters right. It was an astute move. The Young Turks at once sent Prenk home. On September 30th Prenk Pasha rode up into Mirdita and was received by his delighted people. I went with him, and witnessed the wildly magnificent scene. Mirdita believed no Turkish promises. They had never seen "a Constituzi"; they did not know if they would like it, and thought it was a "flam of the devil." Nor were they pleased to see the two Young Turk representatives, Halil and Khiassim Beys. It took all the eloquence of the Abbot to talk them over, and only after long deliberations did they consent to swear a "besa" (peace oath) till Ash Wednesday, 1909, stipulating at the same time for the retention of their old privileges and their old laws. Premi Dochi's successful scheme for the restoration to Mirdita of Prenk Bib Doda was a masterpiece, which might have well led to the autonomy of Albania. Had Prenk been a born leader of men, not only Mirdita but all the mountain tribes would have rallied to him. But alas! there was nothing of the leader in him. Thirty years of enforced idleness and exile had turned him from a rebel youth into a stout and amiable elderly gentleman, with a considerable sense of humour, but devoid of all capacity or even desire, to rule. The Abbot's trump card was not an ace--it was not even a knave. Meanwhile the Austrian Consulate was bubbling with rumours of a quarrel at Ischl between King Edward VII and the Emperor Franz Josef. It was said that King Edward had rudely walked out of the Royal box at the theatre where he was the Emperor's guest, in the middle of the performance, and had given as an excuse that the performance was improper. The consular youths refused to believe any play could be too highly flavoured for the King of England, judging by pieces which they knew he had witnessed, and declared there had been a political quarrel. This was later officially denied. In any: case the result was the same--friction and misunderstanding between the two countries--and it is evident that King Edward's journeys to Reval cannot have pleased Franz Josef. Nor was there any sign that the Turkish Constitution would be a success. The Albanian Moslems were soon furious to find that instead of giving them freedom, it meant that they would all now have to give military service. The districts of Ipek, Prizren, Djakova, Upper Dibra, Scutari, and others who had hitherto been exempt, declared that they had not fought the Turk for years in order to be conquered now. The Christians, who had believed that "Constituzi" meant the Turk was going, were horrified. Nothing would induce them to fight for the Turks. Already in September I found distrust of the Turk all through Kosovo vilayet. The Moslems who had gathered at Ferizovitch and demanded Constitution of Abdul Hamid saw they had been tricked. They declared they had been summoned to fight Austria, and said they were ready to do that, but they would never allow themselves to be dictated to by the Turks. I talked with the two Young Turk officers, Halil and Khiassim Bey, at Scutari. They were hopelessly ignorant. Knew, in fact, no more about a Constitution than did the up-country mountain men. It was a sort of magic word which was to put all right. They were arranging to be photographed in new uniforms with plenty of gold braid, and were childishly happy. When I said: "But you have the Bulgar question, the Greek, the Serb, and Albanian questions all to solve in Europe alone--surely those are more important than new uniforms," they replied: "These questions no longer exist. We have made a law. All are now Ottomans!" "You may make a law that a cat is a dog," said I, "but it will remain a cat." They expressed horror that I should compare human beings to animals, and Halil persisted: "It will be like England. In England you have the people of Scotland and Ireland. But they are all English. A man from Scotland, for example, would not say 'I am Scotch.'" "But he would," I persisted. "If you call an Irishman, English, he will probably knock you down." They were surprised and incredulous. They had no plans, no ideas. That no one wanted to be an Ottoman, and that, contracted to "Ot" the word was used as a term of contempt to denote "Turk" by the town Christians was unknown to them. Albania was, in fact, for the Young Turks, the most important of its European possessions, for, well handled, it might have remained loyal to the Turk against the dreaded Slav. But Constantinople did nothing to achieve this. And Scutari was infuriated because, though the prisoners had been released in honour of the Constitution throughout the land, the doors of Scutari prisons were still closed. Folk began to say: "The Young Turk is as bad as the Old." I took a long journey up into Kosovo vilayet to districts which had previously been practically closed to travellers for many years, visiting Djakova, Prizren, Prishtina, Mitrovitza, and the plain of Kosovo. Here it seemed obvious that the new regime must fail. The Serbs everywhere were in very much of a minority, and their headmen --the Bishop of Prizren, the Archimandrite of Grachanitza, the master of the Serb theological school at Prizren, and others frankly lamented the Turkish revolution, and looked on it only as a frustration of all their schemes. A well-governed Turkey was the last thing they wished for, as it would prevent the creation of Great Serbia. Prizren itself was so overwhelmingly Albanian that the Serbian College, with its students brought even from Montenegro and other non-Turk lands, seemed ridiculously artificial. Nor were the Albanians any longer pleased about the revolution. They meant to accept nothing that would bring them further under Turkish power. As for the Turkish authorities, they were still under the magic of the blessed word "Constitution," and in order that foreigners should be so too, sent gendarmes ahead to prepare a group of "peasants rejoicing under the Constitution" at Djakova, ready for the arrival of some French delegates. I was back in Scutari when, on October 5th, came the startling news that Ferdinand of Bulgaria had proclaimed himself Tsar of independent Bulgaria. This confirmed the Christians of the town in their rooted belief that all that was going on was arranged by the Great Powers for the purpose of entirely overthrowing the Turk. Tuesday, October 6th, the Austrian attache had supper with me, and was bubbling with excitement. He had a great piece of news, but it might not yet be told. I was to try and guess< He would tell me so soon as possible. Wednesday and Thursday passed, and on Friday early, in rushed my old Marko crying: "War is declared by Serbia, Russia, Montenegro, and Turkey against Austria!" Why, he did not know. Running out to learn, I met the attache beaming: "We have annexed Bosnia and the Herzegovina!" he said. "Then you have done a dashed silly thing!" said I. He was greatly surprised, and promised to come to dinner with me and fight it out. I went to the Montenegrin Consulate and found Petar Plamenatz almost in tears with a red-hot proclamation of Prince Nikola's in his hands, calling on all Serbs of all countries to unite and denounce the breaking of the Berlin Treaty, and laying great stress on the fact that all his ancestors were buried in the Herzegovina, which was now seized by Austria. Petar was of opinion that war was inevitable, otherwise all the plans of the Serbs for Great Serbia were ruined. Serbs and Montenegrins must act as brothers. Excitement in the town was further heated by the arrival of the French Minister from Belgrade, who interviewed the newly-arrived Prenk Bib Doda, and the wildest things were reported and believed, even that England, Germany, and Austria had combined to crush the Slavs. Folk discussed which Power would land there. Prizren was said to have declared itself independent. And one of the political prisoners of the Cetinje bomb affair, who had been condemned to fifteen years, escaped and took refuge in Scutari. In the general excitement I never learnt his name, and he left for Serbia. The Austrian attache duly came to dinner, and explained that it was absolutely necessary to annex Bosnia as the Young Turks were preparing for the general elections. The two provinces were nominally part of the Turkish Empire, and the Turks would claim that they should be represented in their Parliament. Europe had never intended the provinces to revert to Turkey; they had been entirely Austrian for thirty years, and the change was in name only. It would also make it possible to give the provinces a liberal and civilian government, a thing not possible when it was a question only of a military occupation. I countered with: "Let sleeping dogs lie." Europe would never have taken it from Austria, and if it had been agreed that Austria should retire from part she would have been necessarily heavily compensated. He replied: "Ah, but you don't know something we know, and which has expedited the affair. England is on the point of annexing Egypt. The same problem faces you there." I did not believe this possible, and declared that we were pledged to the Egyptians to restore the land to them. I believed, then, we should keep our word. He laughed, and said he had certain information that we should annex it. Nor would he agree, when I persisted, that Austria had made a mistake in not bringing the question up before the signatory Powers. We discussed the anti-Austrian propaganda, which I had found rife in Bosnian He believed it to have been largely due to the uncertainty of the position, and declared that, faced with the fait accompli, the Serbs would drop the intrigues which kept up the agitation, and that a civilian government and a constitution would speedily ameliorate everything. Austria was already withdrawing the officers' families from the Sanjak, and complete evacuation would follow. She dropped also the Uvatz-Mitrovitza railway scheme which the Young Turks seemed not over-willing to permit. Moslem wrath, fierce against Austria, was further excited by the arrival of malcontent Moslems from the annexed provinces, who had thrown up their businesses and emigrated to the Young Turks. A curio-dealer from Mostar, whom I knew, was among them He and his friends had all believed that the Turkish revolution meant that Bosnia-Herzegovina would be the Sultan's once more. I asked why there had been no rising, and he explained humorously that, except his wife's scissors, he had no weapon to rise with. The "Schwabs" had called in all knives big enough to fight with, some weeks before the annexation was proclaimed. A Moslem demonstration took place outside the Austrian consulate. The consular staff sent for Browning pistols, and insisted on ordering one for me, too, as declared my lodgings outside the town were dangerous. There was a whirlpool of contrary currents. Just before the Turkish revolution took place Essad Bey, who was aware of what was going on but, characteristically, meant to keep clear till he knew which was the winning side, applied for leave to go abroad for his health, which appeared excellent, and abroad he remained till Young Turk victory was certain. In the first frenzy of joy, over what they believed to be the coming reign of liberty and justice, one of the cries of the townsfolk had been: "Now if Essad ever dares come back they will hang him, and give back all the lands and monies he has stolen!" Essad, however, outwitted the Young Turks as easily as he later outwitted the British Foreign Office. Whatever happened, he would be "butter-side uppermost." He announced that he, too, was a Young Turk, and returned in triumph as a member of the Committee of Union and Progress. This did more in Scutari to shake all faith in the new regime than anything else. Excitement grew. War was expected at any moment. Serbia and Montenegro were reported to have mobilized, and all frontiers were armed. On October 28th I find in my diary: "Had urgent appeal to go to Belgrade, but decided not--I don't want to get badly mixed in their politics." The Montenegrins were all for war, and the wildest reports reached us of Prince George of Serbia's efforts to precipitate it. Russia, still reeling from her Japanese thrashing and torn with internal troubles, could do nothing. That was plain to every one but the South Slavs. Baron Nopcsa, the Hungarian traveller, whose knowledge of Albanian matters is unrivalled, returned from a tour in the mountains. He was violently anti-Serb, and, in reply to my hope that war would be avoided, said very earnestly: "It can't be. Russia Is rapidly recovering. The Slavs mean our destruction; it is now or never for us. Our one chance is to crush them before they become too strong." I suggested there was room for both. He maintained there was not. "Let the Slav once get the upper hand, and there will be room for no one else. You had better remember that!" As a choice of evils, he favoured union with Germany against the common foe. The pro-Serb attitude of England astonished every one except the "Great Serbians," who did not think it strong enough, and hoped for British naval support at least. To the Austrians it was incomprehensible that England should have made such a complete volte-face since 1878. The Czech consul-general, the Croatian secretary, and the Dalmatian doctor--all Slavs--were dead against Serbia and-all her claims. And in spite of the surprise expressed by England it appeared that the question of Bosnia's status had been discussed with England almost immediately after the proclamation of the Young Turk revolution. For a Reuter telegram had reported: "August 12, Vienna. . . . it was agreed at the conference between Baron Aehrenthal and Sir Charles Hardinge at Ischl to-day that any developments arising in Bosnia and the Herzegovina from the constitutional changes in Turkey should be considered as purely internal matters affecting Austria-Hungary and not involving any question of international policy." Sir Charles Hardinge, who had come in company with King Edward VII, at once returned to England. The Moslems regarded the annexation as a Christian attack on Islam, and, as it was Ramazan, demonstrated loudly at night in the Christian quarter of Scutari. The Turkish Government boycotted all Austrian goods, and as the bulk of Scutari's imports came from Trieste the town felt this severely. The attache told me that England was believed to be behind this boycott for commercial purposes, and that as Austria manufactured a great deal expressly for the Turkish market a prolonged boycott must spell ruin. How easily we thought it spelt in those days! Montenegro, meanwhile, went rabid because her special envoy to Belgrade, Yanko Vukotitch, cousin to the Princess, was stopped, and, it was said, searched on Austrian territory. Things were touch and go. The Montenegrin army was preparing to fall on Cattaro. War seemed inevitable, for England's attitude caused the Montenegrins to believe that they had only to begin and British aid was certain. Imaginative people actually saw the Mediterranean fleet coming up the Adriatic. They were spoiling for a fight. I was sure our bark was far worse than our bite was likely to be, but was very anxious, for we had no British representative in Cetinje to advise moderation, and, while we went on barking, Montenegro might bite. Montenegrin and Austrian troops faced each other on the frontier, and a rifle fired by a man full of rakia might set the whole ablaze. People at home did not know how close the spark and the powder lay. If war ensued, it would mean the end of Turkey in Europe. In spite of tension between Christian and Moslem, the Albanians remembered that blood is thicker than water, and were very anxious to consolidate their position by adopting a common alphabet for all Albania. This, owing to Turkish prohibitions, had previously been impossible. For Italy and Austria, who printed school books in Albanian, did so for their own purposes, and not to encourage nationality, and so each used a different alphabet and changed it not infrequently. A great national meeting of representatives of all Albania was held at Monastir, which the Albanians then reckoned as one of their towns. The Latin alphabet was chosen, a common system of orthography adopted, and the frontiers of Albanian territory discussed. The Turks, alarmed at the growth of Albanian Nationalism, again began restrictions, and hurried to arrange for the election to Parliament of such members only as were pro-Turk. As I wrote at the time: "The so-called election is no election at all. The tyrant of Tirana, Essad Bey, a man who is greatly detested, and has an awful reputation, is to be member for Tirana, elected' by the peasants who are terrified of him. Even Scutari is surprised he has succeeded in making them do it. He is head of the gendarmerie, and this gives him great power." It has been said that in an emergency you can always trust a Turk to do the wrong thing. Every mistake possible to make in Albania, the Young Turks made, and while they still rubbed Albania up the wrong way, Austria was still boycotted. Kral himself tried vainly to unload a barge of sugar. And still Serbia, Montenegro, and Austria showed their teeth on the frontier. The Crown Prince George of Serbia was reported to be about to assume the command of the army as a second Stefan Dushan. But his rush to Petersburg and appeal to the Tsar met with rebuff and refusal. Russia was not yet ready for another war, as Lobatcheff sadly admitted. We became used to reports several times a week that war had begun somewhere or other. But the town was in a fever of excitement when, towards the middle of November, we heard that the British fleet had arrived in the Adriatic, and that the Admiral was about to visit Scutari. "War for certain! Albania is saved!" cried folk. The hotel reported that the Admiral and suite had engaged rooms, and were coming via Cetinje. The British fleet must be in the Bocche di Cattaro! The Vali decided to send a band and a guard of honour to meet him. I suggested that Edward VII was coming in person, but people were past seeing jokes. Our Vice-Consul had had no news at all, and was agitated. All day the Admiral and British fleet were expected. The Crimea would be repeated, and Turkey saved. Next day brought forth--a British charge d'affaires and five ladies who had merely come for fun to see the bazar, and were overpowered by finding themselves officially received. All Scutari, perhaps all Turkey, tense and tremulous, waited to see what steps Great Britain would take. And its representative, all unaware of what political fever in the Balkans is, saw the bazar, had tea at the Austrian Consulate, and went back again to Cetinje, escorted to the boat by a Turkish guard. Then the storm broke! What did Great Britain mean? Scutari was amazed, perplexed, bewildered; wild rumours flew. An Anglo-Austrian Alliance--a break with Russia--a slap in the face for the Turks. Nothing was too crazy to be believed and repeated. A knock came at my door. In came Lobatcheff in full uniform. He said that his Tsar had been insulted in his person. Was fizzling with excitement. Had I any information for him? Had the British Government reversed its policy? What was the object of this mission to Scutari? And so on--red hot. I told him there was nothing to be excited about. "An English official had come for a holiday. That was all. Did he suppose that a diplomat on business would bring a party of ladies?" But the Russian had got all his bristles up. "That I decline to believe," he said. "I have too high an idea of the skill of your Foreign Office to believe they would send a man at such a moment to visit the bazar for no purpose!" And it took me ever so long to talk him round. Having settled Russia and got rid of him, in came Mr. Summa, our Vice-Consul, also deeply troubled. The Vali had asked him for an explanation of the policy of Great Britain. He, too, was of opinion that the Foreign Office could not have concocted such a plan as a visit to the bazar, except for some deep and obscure purpose. The Young Turks having made a Constitution, naturally expected Great Britain, also a Constitutional country, etc. etc. Why had not the British envoy visited the Vali? In fact, you could hardly blow your nose in Scutari without being suspected of political intentions. Then came a message from Petar Plamenatz, who was ill, and wished to see me. The Slav kettle gets hot in a minute. Petar, who was not such a big pot as he imagined, was boiling over. His Prince, his country, and--worst of all--himself, had all been insulted. Why had he, who was Consul-General for Montenegro, not been called on? With Petar, as usual, I was very firm. "This gentleman," said I, "doubtless heard of your illness in Cetinje. He came here as a tourist, and so naturally did not wish to disturb you. Why should he, when he came not on official business, but merely to see the bazar?" Petar was squashed. The whole episode illustrates the fact, which few people in West Europe appreciate, namely, that in the Near East politics are a nervous disease. I left for Cetinje shortly afterwards. My last letter said: "The war-clouds are thickening. The people here who foretell the future in sheep's bladebones and fowls' breastbones have foretold nothing but blood for weeks. ... It is said that by the end of four months Austria will occupy the Sanjak as far as Mitrovitza." "To save us," say the Albanians, "if the Serbs are allowed to have it, it will at once be Russian. We should be lost, and our religion crushed. If Montenegro declared war the Albanians will at once reoccupy Dulcigno; that forced cession of Dulcigno, engineered by Gladstone, has done more to keep up hatred here than anything else." "I gather from the Press cuttings that none of the reviewers like my idea that the Constitution can't last. But so far as I can make out, only the English and the French papers believe--or pretend to believe--in it." To me it seemed, indeed, clear that the Young Turk regime was bound to fail. No one but the Young Turks wanted it, and they had started it at least thirty years too late. Territorial aggrandizement was what Greece, Bulgaria, Serbia, and Montenegro wanted. Russia and Austria, too, were both burning to "free Christians from the Turkish yoke." And if Turkey reformed herself into an earthly Paradise, the lands those Christians lived in would be lost for ever. Then came talk of withdrawing the international gendarmerie from Macedonia. This I could not believe possible. "England will never do anything so crazy!" I declared. "She will though," said the Austrian Consulate, "and so soon as the Young Turks have enough rope they will hang themselves." And sure enough the gendarmerie was withdrawn, and the Young Turk let loose to go as he pleased. In Cetinje I found popular opinion furious both with the Young Turks and with Austria. Either and each would prevent the formation of Great Serbia. All were for war, and still believed England would support them if they began. I went to the drinkshops as being the centres from which to distribute information, and told gendarmes, soldiers, and pot-house visitors generally that England Would not go to war for them. "But," they declared, "your own Prime Minister in Parliament has said: 'We will never allow the Treaty of Berlin to be violated.' Our guns are on the frontier pointing at Cattaro. It is war!" "Oh, they tell a lot of lies in our Parliament," said I. "Don't believe them. We are not going to fight. You will get no help." I was exceedingly afraid some fool would start firing, for they were getting tired of doing nothing on the frontier in the cold. All the Corps Diplomatique, save Austria, interviewed me, anxious to hear how the Constitution was working in Albania. None of them had any belief in it. The French Minister even said it would require twenty Napoleons to solve Turkey's many problems, and the Turks had not one. The Prince sent for me, and I saw he, too, expected war, for he questioned me about the Red Cross, and asked me whether I could get medical aid from England. The steamer in which I left Cattaro was empty of goods because of the boycott, and of passengers because of the political situation. There was a non-commissioned Austrian officer with me in the second class. As the boat left the shore he said fervently: "Gott sei dank! Gott sei dank! I have got away. The war will begin very soon now, and every one in Cattaro will be killed, like a rat in a trap. We shall win in the end. But Cattaro will fall at once. I have been there for weeks with the guns pointed on us day and night. Gott bewahre!" He, like Baron Nopesa, believed it to be a case of "Now or never!" Austria must fight. If she waited a few years the Slav combine would be too strong. "We have the whole of the German army with us," said the officer, "and you could do nothing to stop us." Probably he was correct. In 1908 Russia was quite impotent, and the Central Powers might have won. But Germany insisted on peace. I arrived in London, and was amazed to find for the first time people who believed in the Young Turks. They would listen to no facts, and would not believe me when I said that the Turkish Empire, as it stood, would probably barely survive one Parliament. A prophecy which was almost exactly fulfilled. CHAPTER SIXTEEN 1909 An accident and a long illness forced me to spend 1909 in London. In March came a significant change in Serbia. Prince George, the Crown Prince, in a fit of uncontrolled rage, amounting to mania, kicked his valet down some stone steps and killed him. Rumours of the Prince's strange and violent conduct had long been rife. He escaped trial by renouncing all rights to succession to the throne, and his brother, Prince Alexander, became heir. Alexander was said to have the support of the regicide officers' party, the Black Hand. George, too, had his partisans, who declared that if he were as mad as his great-grandfather, old Karageorge, so much the better, he would lead Serbia to glory. In March, too, came the counter-revolution against the Young Turk regime. I had learnt from a letter from Albania that this was about to take place. It failed, to my regret, for I hoped that its success would result in the landing of international forces, and that international control might solve the Balkan problem peacefully. I believed then that rule by the Western Powers would be better than that of the Turks. Now that we Know that these so-called civilized Powers will starve millions, and bomb helpless crowds, in order to obtain land and supremacy, many of us blush for the criticisms we once showered on the state of Macedonia. The Young Turk won in 1909, and Abdul Hamid was called on to abdicate. Essad Pasha (formerly Bey) the ex-gendarmerie commander at Scutari, was now hand in glove with the Young Turks. He played, in fact, on whichever side he thought to gain something for himself. He managed to be one of the three who took the fatal message to the terrified Sultan, and spoke the words: "Abdul, the nation hath pronounced thee deposed!" Thus dramatically avenging the murder of his brother Gani fifteen years before, very completely. Abdul went, and with him went the Empire. He had lived a life of terror, and played a long game of "bluff." But those who knew him intimately declare that his success with the Powers depended more on the way they outwitted each other than on his skill as a diplomatist. Recent revelations have shown us that the much talked of intrigues of the East are child's play compared to the plans built by the West. Hitherto all that went wrong in Turkey was ascribed to Abdul Hamid. The Young Turks had now no scapegoat, and were in a perilous position with foes within and without. They resolved, therefore, that the only way to consolidate the Empire was to forcibly Ottomanize the population as fast as possible. But it was too late by many years for this. The Balkan States had expended huge sums on propaganda in Turkish territory, and knew that if their oft-repeated demands for reform were carried out, all their plans for territorial aggrandizement would be ruined. They fitted out bands and hurried on propaganda. The Serbs had started the Narodna Odbrana society, and opened a school in which officers trained komitadji bands, taught bomb throwing, train wrecking, mining, and shooting, to volunteers. These were designed primarily for attack on Austria to avenge the annexation of Bosnia. They acted also with ferocity in Macedonia against the Bulgars. Serbia, whose propaganda in Macedonia was very recent, tried to make up now, by planting schools and sending forth komitadjis. Austria early in 1909 dropped her North and South railway scheme. But the Slavs clamoured still for an East and West line, and Russia backed them, and Prince Nikola still cried out about his ancestors, who, for the time, remained buried in the Herzegovina. Russia demanded that the Dardanelles should now be opened to her warships. It came out that when Baron von Aehrenthal met Izvolsky--Russian Minister for Foreign Affairs--at Buchlau in September 1908, Izvolsky had agreed to the Austrian annexation of Bosnia in exchange for the opening of the Dardanelles. He may have believed this would automatically follow any violation of the Berlin Treaty. But he was outwitted. Would that he had always been! After much argle-bargle Europe decided to accept the fait accompli in Bosnia, and not to reassemble the signatory Powers. Serbia did not receive the corridor she demanded through the Sanjak, and signed an agreement accepting the changed state of Bosnia. Prince Nikola, in consideration of his lost and buried ancestors, obtained certain concessions in the status of Antivari. Russia, as war was impossible for her, did all she could to maintain peace, even undertaking a large share of the pecuniary compensation demanded of Bulgaria by the Turks. To Serbia she counselled moderation, but, as we have learnt from recently published documents, pledged herself' to support Serbia later on. On March 6, 1909, the Serb representative in Petersburg informed Belgrade: "Chamjakow informed me very confidentially that . . . in the audience which took place on Monday the Tsar said that the situation was terrible, for Russia was unprepared for war, and the defeat of Russia would be the ruin of Slavdom . . . In answer to the question what attitude Russia would assume in case Austria should attack Serbia, the President of the Duma said: We did something no other State has done up till now. We proclaimed to the Whole world that we are not in a position to make war, but we shall consider any attempt to coerce Serbia as the beginning of a European conflagration, in which we cannot at present join. But it will flame up in the future when we are in a position to have our way." (Telegram xvi, Bogitchevitch). Russia thus very clearly told Serbia so early as 1909 that so soon as Russia was ready, Serbia had but to provoke Austria to retaliation and the European war, from which Russia hoped to obtain so much, would at once blaze up. "You press the button, and we'll do the rest." As one result of the Bosnian crisis, Izvolsky lost his popularity. In 1910 he was retired from the post of Minister for Foreign Affairs, which he had held since 1906, and went to Paris as Russian ambassador, where he toiled unremittingly at inciting France to co-operate in his schemes. Already in October 1908 he had thus instructed M. Vesnitch, Serb Minister in Paris: "Russia has hitherto supported Serbia, and will continue to support her, however and wherever she can. You must come to an understanding soon with Montenegro. . . . Further, you must come to an understanding with, Bulgaria, and in this we shall honestly support you. We no longer desire a Great Bulgaria. Such an idea we now look on as a mistake" (i.e. it would block the route to Constantinople). This is the first official proof we have of Russia's plan to construct a Balkan League for her own use, from which it is clear Bulgaria was to derive no benefit. Before going to Paris, Izvolsky laid yet another stick ready to kindle the European blaze. In October 1909 he made an agreement with Italy, whose hatred of Austria was increasing, by which Italy and Russia "bind themselves to a mutually benevolent attitude, the former in regard to Russia's interests in the Dardanelles, and the latter in regard to Italy's interests in Tripoli and the Cyrenaica." Italy, in fact, under cover of military manoeuvres, made extensive military preparations against Austria in 1909, while hostilities over Bosnia were possible. Baron Nopcsa told me bitterly in 1910: "We shall never again rely on Italy. She mobilized against us last year." That his statement was true was confirmed to me later by Mr. Wadham Peacock, who told me he had been at that time in Verona, seen active preparations, and heard the approaching war against Austria freely discussed by Italian officers. The Albanians hastened to consolidate their position by holding two important National Congresses at Dibra and Elbasan, at which a scheme for national education was discussed, and the formation of Courts of Justice, road-making, and the purpose to which taxes were to be applied. These, they insisted, were to be used for national works. The Young Turks would give no pledge to this effect, and foolishly tried to extort a tax to pay for the Bulgar rising of 1903. They ordered also the disarming of Albania, and sent a large force into Kosovo vilayet for this purpose. The Albanians, led by that very gallant chieftain, Isa Boletin, rose, and fierce fighting ensued, which, had the Turks but known it, was the beginning of the end. They hopelessly alienated the Albanians, the one race whom they might have had as ally. Another important event was the trial at Agram of a number of Serbs and Croats accused of conspiracy with Serbia against the Austro-Hungarian Government. Thirty-three were condemned to various terms of imprisonment, but were released on appeal, and brought a countercharge of libel against Dr. Fried Jung, a Journalist, for asserting in the Neue Freie Presse that they had been subsidized by Belgrade, and advocating that Belgrade should be purged of a nest of conspirators. Pashitch, Spalaikovitch, and the Slovenski Jug (founded in 1904), and others were accused. There was no question of Friedjung's bona fides. He founded his article upon what he believed to be genuine documents, and on the evidence of Nastitch, the Bosnian, who had given sensational evidence at the Cetinje bomb trial. Nastitch proved to be a professional spy, and the evidence forged. Friedjung lost his case, and the sentences of the condemned men were annulled. But his contention that plots against Austria were being made in Belgrade has been proved undoubtedly true by later events. The accused denied everything at the trial, but so soon as war broke out in 1914 the Serbo-Croat party appeared with ready-made plans, and Supilo, who had most vehemently protested his innocence, appeared as a recognized leader. The trial, in truth, resembles the case of The Times v. Parnell. The Times, like Friedjung, lost its case not because the charge was false, but because all the evidence produced was forged. That Parnell was intimately acquainted with and connected with all the anti-English work going on in Ireland is now well known. Friedjung was correct. Belgrade winked at the anti-Austrian work that was going on. The komitadji school was taught by Serb officers. Evidence was not easy to get, for, as it was explained to me by the pro-Serb party in Bosnia, in 1906, nothing of importance was written down, and the Austrians searched the post vainly. And the fact that they told me the Slovenski Jug was directed against Austria prevented me from joining it. Friedjung's failure proves only the folly of employing a stupid spy, not the innocence of the accused. Pashitch, after war began, never ceased trumpeting his schemes for Great Serbia. He grudges even now a few snippets to Italy, without whose aid it might not have been made. To assert that Pashitch, who, with his set, had worked to make Great Serbia ever since they had removed the Obrenovitch from its path in 1903, was innocent of plotting against Austria in 1909-10, is to ask for too much credulity. Had not Russia already said the road to Constantinople lay through Vienna? England had previously been uneasy about the regicides, and had demanded their dismissal from the Serb army, but now ceased to trouble about them. They were probably needed to teach in the bandit school of the Narodna Odbrana. And henceforth they held important posts. The original gang of some fifty murderers, officers and civilians, developed into a formidable society called the Tsrna Ruka (Black Hand), which became a government within a government. The Black Hand was responsible to none. Many members of the Government were reported to belong to it, a convenient Jekyll and Hyde arrangement, by means of which crimes of all kind could be committed, for which the Government took no responsibility, and of which it denied all knowledge. King Petar having been put on the throne by this gang, had naturally no power over them, and Prince Alexander was reported to have joined the society. Talk there was about it all enough to lead one to think "No smoke without fire." Members of the Tsrna Ruka joined the police force, and so secured their plans against police interference. By means of a paper called Premont they preach violent chauvinism, and advocated savage methods. Damian Popovitch, the head assassin, held an important post. Efforts on the part of politicians, who disapproved of its methods, to break up the society failed. Unexplained deaths took place. The Black Hand brooked no interference. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 1910 Ill and crippled with sciatica, but hopeless of recovery in England, I managed to get to Scutari in April 1910, hoping there to find a sun-cure, and at least to learn what was happening. Things had gone from bad to worse. No one now believed in "Constitution." The attitude of the populace on the Sultan's accession day showed this. No reforms or improvements had as yet been even begun. People said: "We will not give money to the Turks to buy gold braid for officers and guns to kill us with." Lobatcheff had gone to Mitrovitza to hold it as a Slav outpost. My friend, the attache, had left after having almost fought a duel with the French Consul over his bulldog. Dushan Gregovitch represented Montenegro. Italy and Austria were redoubling their efforts to win over the Albanians by showering "benefits" upon them, although each had formally agreed not to countenance the partition of Albania, and the Nationalist Albanians were making strides in spite of the efforts of enemies. At the time of the Young Turk revolution some thirty Albanian papers were being published abroad. Now, as the Constitution promised freedom of the Press, printing was going on all over Albania, and the new alphabet was universally adopted. The Albanian girls' school at Koritza was filled to overflowing. The South strove to throw off Greek influence, and at Elbasan a school for training teachers was opened with mixed Moslem and Christian staff. As the Albanian poet had sung, it was a case of: Awake, Albanians, awake! Let not mosques nor churches divide you. The true religion of the Albanian is his national ideal. Nationalism gained in Scutari by the death of the old Austrian Archbishop, and the elevation in his place of Mgr. Serreggi, an Albanian patriot. Fighting was going on in Kosovo vilayet, but the Christians of Scutari firmly believed that Austria, as protector of the Catholics, would never allow the Turkish army to enter the Catholic districts. In the town the Turks pursued a foolish policy. Only one per cent, of the Christians understood Turkish, and about 20 per cent, of the Moslems, and but few could read or write it. Nevertheless the Turks gave out all notices in Turkish, and the people did not even trouble to ask their meaning. Then came a grave event. One Sunday morning my old Marko, in whose house I lodged, announced solemnly: "Last night Teresi had a terrible dream about you. To-day you will have important news from England. God grant nothing bad has happened to your noble family." I chaffed the old man, saying: "There is no post to-day!" And then came a knock at the door, and the old blue kavas from the British Consulate handed me a note from M. Summa. "I regret to inform you of the death of our beloved Sovereign, Edward VII, which I have just learnt by telegraph from Salonika." Teresi's reputation as a dreamer became immense. King Edward VII, in a short reign, had largely contributed towards bringing Great Britain from a state of "splendid isolation" into a tangle of--to me--very doubtful associates. I wrote: "The King's death knocks out one's ideas of what sort of a position England is going to hold. . . . Poor George ascends the throne in an awfully difficult time, with internal and foreign politics both in a regular tangle. A far more difficult beginning than Edward had. For, then, we had not upset the whole balance of power in Asia and Europe by making that alliance with Japan. I always hated it. The result . . . the predominance of Germany in Europe, is going to cost us dear. And when Japan has got all she can out of us, she will turn round and bite." And in the same week I noted: "The newly-appointed British Minister is coming here to-morrow. Thank goodness there is no acute political crisis on now, as there was when the last man came." Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont arrived, and there followed in pursuit of them a King's messenger, who bore the assent of the British Government to Prince Nikola's desire to proclaim himself king. His position now hurt badly. The Petrovitches were the oldest Balkan dynasty, and were the lowest in rank. The Montenegrins were divided as to the desirability of the change. Prince Danilo and his set were said to favour it strongly. The thing was decided upon suddenly, and the country consented. "I expect some Power engineered it," says my diary. And soon the rumour was very certain that the step had been taken by the advice and with the agreement of King Ferdinand of Bulgaria. "Which do you love best--me or Ferdinand?" Prince Nikola had asked me suddenly, when I last visited him. "You, of course, Sire!" said I, and wondered at the time why he had Ferdinand on the brain. That the Turkish Empire would now soon break up, was the general belief, and Kings Ferdinand and Nikola would divide the peninsula. Bulgaria would obtain her Alsace-Lorraine, Macedonia, and Nikita would reign over Great Serbia from Prizren. Fighting continued in Kosovo vilayet. Meanwhile I was carried dangerously ill to the Austrian hospital, and lay helpless between bouts of agony and injections of morphine. The Albanians came and wept over me, and prayed for advice and help. When I was nearly screaming with pain they implored me to make an effort and write for them to the Foreign Office and the papers, for the Turkish army was approaching. I was dragged to a sitting position, managed to write two letters, and fainted with the pain. Vain agony. Nothing could break the journalistic ring which forbade any criticism of the Young Turks. A foolish policy, for it led them to believe their actions beyond criticism, and helped their undoing. The more they blundered, the more Italy, and Austria, and Russia rejoiced. They expected the Withdrawal of the international gendarmerie to send the Turks downhill with a crash. England, probably, was not guilty of withdrawing for that reason, but was much less well informed, because more sparsely represented, than the other Powers. And we were already tangled in Russia's plans, and did not know what they were. The Turks sent over increased forces and artillery into Kosovo vilayet, and Scutari learnt with dismay that in spite of the valour of the Kosovo men they were being forced back and back, and the Turkish army was approaching Scutari. Prenk Pasha, who had been made a member of the Committee of Union and Progress, had promised the Turks safe-conduct through Mirdita. This was in strict conformity with the policy explained to me by the Abbot Premi Dochi in 1904, viz. that the Turk must be maintained until Albania was sufficiently organized to stand alone, otherwise the Slav, the more relentless foe, would fall upon her. The other Catholic tribes were wildly dismayed, and the headmen ran from one consulate to another begging advice. None was given them. They were far too poorly armed to resist, and in July 1910 the Turkish army entered Scutari and ordered the populace to give up its arms. They did so quietly. The Christians had few to give. The Moslems feared, by rising, to provoke an Austrian intervention. I was too ill to be taken out to see what was going on, and, to my great disappointment, was still unable to move when the celebration on the occasion of Nikita's elevation to kingship took place in August. Montenegro had raised a loan from England the year before, and had expended the whole of it in making electric light in Cetinje and building a Government house of superlative ugliness, and so vast that it seemed obviously intended to administer a much larger territory than Montenegro. Scutari was excited about Montenegrin doings. Foreign visitors flocked to Cetinje to assist at the fete. Bulgaria was represented by King Ferdinand himself, Serbia, only by the Crown Prince, and he, said rumour, decided to come only at the last minute. Conclusions about a Bulgar-Montenegrin combine were freely drawn. One point both Montenegrins and Albanians agreed upon, "A king must have a kingdom. The Powers would not otherwise have allowed him to be king. Soon there will be war!" While still in hospital I received an English paper, with illustrations of the launch of a Dreadnought. The doctor, a Dalmatian Slav, looked at them sadly. "Why do you do these things?" he asked. "You are forcing on war. You will ruin Austria. We admire everything English, except your Dreadnoughts. Each time you build one, we of the Triple Alliance are forced to build one too. We Austrians have no colonies, and never want any. We need no navy. We are already overtaxed, and the breaking-point must come one day. You eat us up with your terrible wealth. To my mind all Europe is mad. We have one common danger--the peoples of Africa and Asia, who are developing rapidly. If we want to save European civilization we must federate against the common foe. If ever there is a war in Europe --and God forbid--it will be the suicide of the white races. They will fight to extermination, and the day of the coloured people will dawn. We shall deserve our fate. It will be the result of our own folly." Where he is now I know not. His words come back to me always. After three months I emerged from the hospital, well but weak, into a dismayed and depressed Scutari. The Turks were trying to hamper nationalism by ordering Albanian to be printed in Arabic characters, and making Turkish compulsory in the schools. They had roused fierce anger, too, by publicly flogging some offenders, a punishment regarded in Albania as so shameful and humiliating that it bred sympathy for the victim and hatred for the inflicter. Has it, perhaps, the same result in India and Egypt? Our next news was that Montenegro's feelings were woefully hurt. Nikola had Just been made king--but Montenegro was the only state in Europe on which the special mission to announce the death of King Edward and the accession of King George had not called. Montenegro had spent much on sending Prince Danilo to attend the funeral, and Princess Militza is distantly related to Queen Mary. The omission rankled very badly. It would be interesting to know who suggested that King Nikola should be left out. Having achieved kingship, Nikola soon began to act. So soon as the Turks had persuaded the Albanians to disarm, they began to make a census of all fit for military service. This the Christians swore they would never give, and were furious with Austria for not intervening. The Moslems, too, vowed they would not serve outside Albania. And before any one knew what was going to happen a number of the Gruda tribe went over the border into Montenegro. Numbers of the Hoti and Shkreli followed. Scutari was astounded. The Austrians were furious, and vowed Russia had paid for it. The Turks clapped on further anti-Albanian laws, and most of the papers were suppressed. The Koritza girls' school was closed, and news of arrests came from all over the country. The Turks circulated copies of the Arabic alphabet, and ordered its use, and the Albanians burnt them. To escape the winter I went to Egypt, nor will I detail my six months' stay there, except to note that it entirely changed my ideas about the Austrian occupation of Bosnia. My diary towards the close of my stay notes: "I wouldn't be a native under British rule at any price. They may 'do a lot of good to you,' but, dear God! they do let you know their contempt for you, and drive your inferiority into you. Any one with any spunk would rather go to hell his own way than be chivied to heaven by such odiously superior beasts. . . . The Moslems are not grateful for 'benefits' they do not want, and the Christians are discontented and annoyed, as in Bosnia." During the winter I heard from Albania that a fresh revolt was planning; that General Garibaldi had promised arms and men, and that it would break out in the spring. Before leaving Egypt for Europe I stayed at Alexandria, and saw my friend the attache, who was now a full-blown Austrian consul, and retracted the criticisms I had made to him on Austria in Bosnia. At Constantinople, I learnt that the Albanian revolution had broken out. Popovitch, the Montenegrin Minister, complained bitterly that his Government gave him no information, and left him to answer the Turks' charges of complicity as best he could. He was so anxious about the affair that it was obvious Montenegro was "dipped" in whatever was happening, and he begged me to go straight to the scene of action. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 1911 AND THE INSURRECTION OF THE CATHOLICS I arrived in Cetinje on May 5th, and found Italy had built a Legation bigger than that of Austria. France had erected a gay villa in the main street. Great Britain still only parlour-boarded at the hotel for a few months in the year. The elephantine Vladni Dom (Government House) dominated the town, and two ridiculous new houses in the "new art" style had been built in the main street out of the "pickings" so folk said, of the British loan, the whole of which had been spent on useless ostentation. I had hoped that it would have been used for irrigating, or otherwise developing the land, and promptly sold out my few shares in disgust--and at par. I wonder how many other people got out as cheaply? Vuko Vuletitich was swollen with pride over his daughter, who, as Madame Rizoff, held a great position as wife of the Bulgarian Minister in Rome and was known as "la bella Montenegrina." Through Rizoff I was told Montenegro hoped to attain to much. I had been so disgusted over the bomb affair in 1908 that I had fully intended not to visit Montenegro again. I was sick of the web of intrigue which entangled the land. But now it seemed that only from Montenegro could I watch the case for Albania. I was summoned to the palace, and received by the whole royal family, who were very gay, and did not conceal the fact that they expected and wanted war, and bade me go to Podgoritza, where the Queen's cousin, General Yamko Vukotitch, was in command of affairs. The details of the insurrection I have told in my book, The Struggle for Scutari. Here I will narrate only those political facts which fear of injuring my informants compelled me then to withhold. Briefly: the insurrection was planned by King Nikola as part of his effort to obtain a kingdom. Taking advantage of the unrest caused by Young Turk rule, he used as his lever old Sokol Batzi, a worthy man of the Gruda tribe, who had fought against the Turks in 1877, and therefore taken Montenegrin nationality. Nikola rewarded him suitably, and Sokol, in return, served him with dog-like fidelity. To Sokol, much respected by the tribesmen, Nikola entrusted the task of inducing the Albanian Catholics to migrate in numbers into Montenegro, promising them that if they would revolt against the Turks their wives and children should have shelter and protection till their land was freed from the Turks, and that they should receive sufficient arms and ammunition. Nikola himself promised independence to the tribesmen. Sokol was a simple-minded old fellow. Bitterly did he and his family repent later of the way they had let themselves be made cat's paws of. A considerable sum of money was collected in Montenegro to finance the revolution. An Austrian Slav doctor was engaged, and a rough hospital prepared, and a store of maize purchased. These preparations went on through the winter. Montenegro's protests, to Europe, of her innocence were lies which were black even for diplomacy, As for the interview which Prince Danilo gave to the Morning Post, it was a shameless tissue of falsehoods. He declared that Montenegro had supplied no arms or ammunition to the insurgents, when at that very time his cousin, Yanko Vukotitch, was distributing weapons and directing the military operations under my eyes. Even worse was his statement: "It grieves my heart to see these brave mountaineers die for the liberty of having their own schools for their children." When not one single Albanian school was permitted in Montenegro; forcible Slavizing was going on in the Kuchi and Triepshl tribes, and the Catholic Albanians of Podgoritza were not allowed to make a floor to their church and had to kneel on the bare gravel. At Podgoritza I soon saw that the Montenegrins wanted war. King Nikola hoped thus to mend his damaged prestige. Mobilization began. On July 11th Yanko told me all was ready, and he could take Scutari in ten days. He offered to take me there on a gun carriage. The artillery tracks to the mountains were completed, and the big guns were going up. Ox-carts creaked past at night, taking up the ammunition. The Turks, it was said with glee, dared not withdraw troops from the Bulgar frontier, and were hampered with revolts elsewhere. Soon, however, large Turkish forces arrived. It was clear the untrained Maltsors could not stand against the overpowering numbers. Too late they saw they had been tricked by the Montenegrins, and cried to the Powers. At their request I helped draw up a letter to Sir Edward Grey, explaining their situation and their wishes, and we sent it. King Nikola, who was posing to the Powers as the victim of the Albanian insurrection, was very angry when he heard of this, and suspected me of instigating it. But I did not. The Maltsors, too, were tricked by General Garibaldi, who had promised to aid them and did not do so. They had expected the South of Albania to rise also. Had it done so, I believe the Powers would have been obliged to recognize the Albanian question, and much future war might have been spared. But, unfortunately, the South believed in Ismail Kemal, and he worked on which ever side paid him. He was then in league with a Corfiote Greek, one Androutzos, who boasted to me in a letter that he and Ismail had advised the South against rising, and had "saved Albania." A few risings took place, but not enough to make a mark in Europe. Meanwhile Montenegro still expected war, and to every protest I made that Montenegro could not fight the Turks single-handed I was always told that Bulgarian help was certain. The army was anxious to begin, for it was mobilized, and the revolt had cost more than had been expected. But for the fund I raised the wretched refugees would have suffered yet more bitterly. Montenegro cared nothing for them. All she wanted was territory. Great Serbia was discussed with singular cold-bloodedness, one of the schoolmasters saying at the dinner-table that it would never be "made till the Petrovitches and the Karageorgevitches are sent after the Obrenovitches." And King Nikola's tactics were severely criticised. Either make war or demobilize--the country could not stand the strain. I was warned not to trust Stanko Markovitch, the Governor of Podgoritza, a sinister figure enough, who had been raised suddenly to this height from being master in a primary school, for "services rendered." "The King's poisoner," said folk. "Beware!" Foreign correspondents swarmed, and Russian officers came and reconnoitred the frontier. The Turks occupied all the strategical posts. Russia was not ready for war, and would not have it. Suddenly the Maltsors were told Montenegro could do no more for them, and they were to make peace, and go back to their burnt and pillaged homes. Never has a people been more shamelessly betrayed. King Nikola had used the poor creatures as a cat's paw, had failed, and now brutally cast them out, and pretended to the Powers that Montenegro was innocent. By brutal threats the Maltsors were induced to accept the Turkish terms. But they stipulated I was to return with them and stay the winter. This I undertook to do, and before leaving was told by some one who had just had audience with the King that owing to pressure from the Powers he had been forced to postpone war till next year, but that Montenegrin troops would occupy the strategical points so soon as the Turkish troops withdrew, and I was to be ready. The Montenegrin army was, in fact, never quite demobilized, and the King badgered the Powers continually to order the withdrawal of the Turkish troops "which threatened his frontier." Great Britain realized that Montenegro was a spot which needed watching, and sent Count de Salis there as Minister. High time, too. I went to Scutari worn out with toil, responsibility, and the heat which stood at 104 in the shade. France was now represented by a Levantine Pole. Krajewsky, bitterly anti-Austrian, and very active. English sympathy for the Maltsors had been aroused, and Mr. Nevinson came out to report on the state of things and help me to organize relief work. In order to close the Turkish frontier the Montenegrins declared cholera in Scutari, though we saw no signs of it, and quarantine was declared. We were cut off from news, and when distributing quinine in the fever districts round Alessio learnt suddenly that Italy had declared war, and was bombarding Tripoli. It was a bolt from the blue. Italy had no casus belli, but as we have seen, Izvolsky had arranged the affair two years before and no Power protested, save that Austria forbade Italy to land in Albania. Krajewsky became violently pro-Turk. Scutari rightly judged the war as the first step towards the break-up of Turkey. The Turks behaved with admirable tolerance. None of the Italians of the town were Interfered with, and though war broke out on September 30th the Italian Minister did not leave till October 23rd. Mr. Nevinson returned to London, and I was left to carry on relief work. All I could do to prevent the tribesmen being again cheated by Montenegro I did. Petar Plamenatz, now consul, tried hard to buy their help in the coming war by promising arms and liberty. Montenegro intended no annexation, he said. "Nikita himself had promised," said the tribesmen. But I now would not believe King Nikola, even if he swore on the body of St. Peter Cetinski. His actions were suspicious. For the first time for many years he visited his Austrian rentiers, and was warned by the Entente Ministers. "England," said Plamenatz, "was firm; France mild, and Russia very disagreeable." Montenegro was evidently in touch with Bulgaria. Plamenatz told me that the bomb thrown into a mosque at Istib to excite reprisals or force the Turks to declare War, had been expressly prepared in Sofia, and anxiously awaited results. Serbia and Montenegro were now on the worst terms. On December 24th, the season of peace and goodwill, Plamenatz, in a rage, showed me a telegram just received by the Orthodox priest of Scutari. The Patriarchia had been persuaded to appoint one Dochitch, a Montenegrin of Moracha, to the Bishopric of Prizren, in place of Nicephor, dismissed for drunkenness and other inappropriate conduct. Montenegro triumphed, and looked on Prizren as hers. The Serbs were furious; the priests of Kosovo refused to recognize him, and had telegraphed to the two priests of Scutari and Vraka to do so, too. They, being Montenegrin, were all for Dochitch, and their tiny flocks supported them. Any Serbo-Montenegrin agreement seemed, then, quite impossible, and Petar fulminated against Serb infamy. CHAPTER NINETEEN 1912. THE FIRST DROPS OF THE THUNDERSTORM 1912 dawned ominously. Montenegro worked ceaselessly to rouse the Maltsors, promising them that they should receive sufficient arms and, this time, gain freedom. Meanwhile the Turks carried out their agreement to feed the late insurgents very well. But Petar Plamenatz never ceased quibbling over the French translation of the terms, and inciting the tribesmen to quite impossible demands. Repeated messages brought me varying dates for the commencement of hostilities. Montenegro meant war. But Montenegro could not wage it alone. Which Power was shoving her? I was fairly certain that Bulgaria and Montenegro had some sort of an engagement, and learnt later I was right. Baron de Kruyff, Dutch correspondent and head of the Foreign Journalists Society which visited Podgoritza in 1911, told me that when he left Montenegro in June (1911) King Nikola, on hearing he was going to Sofia, asked him to convey a letter thither, addressed to a private individual, and to open it on crossing the frontier. On doing so he found it contained another addressed to King Ferdinand, with instructions to deliver it into the King's hands. He had an audience, and did so. The letter contained the first proposals for a Bulgar-Montenegrin agreement, by means of which each monarch should aid the other to achieve his ambitions, and Nikola hoped to reign at Prizren. King Ferdinand favoured de Kruyff with a long audience, and asked him to convey the reply. De Kruyff objected that his sudden return to Cetinje without obvious reason would excite suspicion. It was therefore arranged that he should meet Popovitch as Montenegrin envoy in Trieste. Which he did. I wonder if Russia knew this? I fancy not. Russia was now working for a Balkan Alliance, which, though primarily directed against Austria, had for its ultimate goal the acquisition of Constantinople. Nicholas II of Russia, like Nikola I of Montenegro, was obsessed with a city. Russia was recuperating rapidly. She was financed by France, and sure of military aid. She had entangled England. The secular enmity of the Balkan peoples was the one weak spot in her plan. To amend this she transferred Hartwig, Russian Minister in Teheran, to Belgrade. He had successfully worked the ruin of Persia. He was now to compass that of Turkey. Hartwig was a man to stick at nothing. Dr. Dillon tells us that his methods were so abominable that even the Russian Foreign Office protested. "People asked how he dared oppose the Foreign Office on which he depended. The answer was that he was encouraged, and put up to it by the Tsar. When at last M. Izvolsky extracted permission to recall the rebellious minister, Nicholas II decorated him, and told him that his was the only policy Russia could pursue with dignity and profit. . . . Thereupon he entrusted Hartwig with the most important post in the Balkans." De Schelking, secretary to the Russian Legation in Berlin, gives a picture of Hartwig's immense influence: "Shortly after his arrival in Belgrade, Hartwig created a most exceptional position for himself. The King, Prince Alexander, Pashitch, none of these made any decisions without consulting him first. . . . Every morning his study was besieged by Serbian statesmen who came to ask advice" (The Game of Diplomacy). It is amusing to compare de Schelking's account with an order from Pashitch, November 14, 1912: "Take notice: Our Ministers in Foreign lands are to be informed that Hartwig has not visited the King, and that he comes to the Foreign Office less than any of the other Ministers." According to de Schelking he had no need to visit anybody. But I fancy Kings Ferdinand and Nikola made their plans without consulting him. Nor can they be blamed for so doing. The alleged object of Hartwig's Balkan alliance was to protect the Balkan peoples from further annexation. It was, however, difficult to unite Bulgaria and Serbia, and would have been harder yet had King Ferdinand known that Russia had already told Serbia that she had no use for a Big Bulgaria. Perhaps neither the Serbo-Bulgar nor the Bulgar-Greek alliances would have been effected, but for the co-operation of Mr. J. B. Bourchier, whose honesty was beyond all doubt, and who was trusted where a Balkan envoy would not have been. He too, unfortunately, was unaware that Bulgaria's fate was already sealed by Russia, and that England was too deeply tangled in Russian intrigue to be able to stand for justice. The Serbo-Bulgar alliance was signed on February 29, 1912, and was to be in force till December 1920. The two parties were "unconditionally and without reservation to mutually aid each other with all the forces of the State if one or more other States should attack one of these countries" and "to support one another with all force should any one of the Great Powers make the attempt to forcibly acquire even temporarily any territory situate in the Balkans, and at present under Turkish suzerainty." Russia meant none but herself to put a finger in the Balkan pie. Russia seems to have been doubtful about Montenegro, for the Serb minister in Petersburg reports (February 17, 1912): "As regards the visit of the King of Montenegro, and as regards Austro-Hungarian relations . . . in pursuance of what was intended King Nikola was given some energetic counsel to pursue a quiet line of conduct, and not to let himself in for any adventures." Serbia now was on very friendly terms with the Greeks and helping them to kill Bulgar komitadjis in Macedonia. Montenegro, feeling secure in her arrangements with Bulgaria, was induced to declare alliance with Serbia. The Bulgar-Greek alliance, the hardest to make, was finally negotiated. These things were all secret, but the air was tense with them. We were told we should know definitely if it were peace or war when King Nikola returned from Petersburg in February. Prince Danilo at the same time went to Sofia. We were told to be ready for war in April. Gavrilovitch, who was Serb Minister at Cetinje, came to Scutari with young M. Cambon, a significant combination, and was visibly relieved when I told him I was doing all I could to keep peace in the mountains Serbia, as we know now, was acting strictly as Russia's tool, as shown by official documents, and Russia wished to postpone the Balkan crash till she was ready. But having made the Balkan Alliance, it took the bit in its teeth. Daily I saw Montenegro shoving towards war, and the Turks steadily fortifying Scutari. On March 10th Petar Plamenatz was suddenly transferred to Constantinople, and replaced by Jovan Jovitchevitch, who naively said he had been instructed to ask me for maps and information. Petar went to Constantinople, as he afterwards boasted, for the express purpose of declaring war. "Ma guerre a moi!" he called it. "Car c'est moi qui l'a fait." At the last moment, when war was seething, Hadji Avdil, Minister of the Interior, started with a Reform Commission through Turkey. But he only precipitated the end. A narrow-minded man, filled with inordinate conceit of his own importance, he passed with difficulty through Kosovo vilayet and arrived in Scutari on March 10th. Instead of pacifying the excited Maltsors, he refused to meet them on any terms which they considered safe. And he left matters far worse than he found them. That he, too, expected war was evident, for he appointed the military commandant Hussein Riza as Vali. The Albanians of Kosovo again rose in revolt. Ise Boletin again led them. They triumphed everywhere, and this time entered Uskub, where their conduct was admitted to have been exemplary by the Foreign Consuls. The Turks, finding that the Albanians were about to march on Monastir, called a truce, and agreed to recognize the four vilayets of Janina, Scutari, Kosovo, and part of Monastir, as an autonomous Albanian province. The immediate result of the Albanian victory was the overthrow of the chauvinistic Young Turk party and the appointment of a more moderate Cabinet. The effect of this coup on the Balkans was electric. Each Balkan State had pegged out for itself a slice of Albania. Delenda est Albania was the one point on which they agreed. Heedless of Russia, they hastened to make war before Albania should have time to consolidate. War preparations hurried on. Montenegro worked upon the discontent caused by Hadji Avdil. King Nikola had returned from Russia, but had not fixed the date of war as we had expected. I thought perhaps Italy was shoving, in order to assist her war in Tripoli, which still dragged on. But in a few weeks' visit to Rome I had a long talk with San Giuliano, and perceived clearly that Italy was not urging Montenegro. There seemed but one possible explanation, and that was that an understanding had been come to between Greece and Bulgaria, and that Montenegro therefore felt certain of the co-operation of the whole of the Bulgar army. In Rome, Popovitch, the Montenegrin Minister, had told me, when announcing that General Martinovitch had been made War Minister: "This means war." Returned to Scutari, I went straight to the Greek consul and in the middle of a chat on nothing particular, asked: "A propos, Monsieur, is it true your Government has signed a treaty of alliance with Bulgaria against Turkey!" The poor little man almost leapt from his chair. "Mademoiselle!" he stammered, "you are surely aware there are things political of which one may not speak." I begged him to say no more. More was unnecessary. War I knew was now certain. The secret alliance had, in fact, been signed on May 16th. Next day a frontier fight took place, provoked by Montenegro. It lasted seven hours. Every one cried: "It is war!" The Montenegrin Consul was greatly agitated. He knew what his country was doing, and cried: "Mon Dieu, Mademoiselle, I hope you will not write a book for five years! You know too much." To avoid being besieged in Scutari I left for Podgoritza at once, and found Podgoritza so certain of war that I was begged to stay and see the first shot fired. Why war was then postponed I never made out. Perhaps Montenegro had to wait for Bulgaria. Cetinje also expected war, and asked me to collect funds for the wounded. The King begged me to prevent the Maltsors rising yet, which showed me he again intended to make a tool of them. Kol Mirashi, one of the pluckiest of the Maltsor patriots, told me they all knew this, and meant to rise at once to show Europe they were fighting for independence, and not for Montenegro. I said: "Why not keep quiet and develop autonomy?" He replied: "Impossible. The Montenegrin-Austrian plan is now complete, and will soon be in motion. We must act independently. King Nikola went to Russia for help. They refused him. So he has joined with Austria." The Russian visit had been a fiasco. Lazar Mioushkovitch, who, with Dushan Gregovitch, had accompanied the King, told me: "It was terrible." Dushan Gregovitch--good looking, and remarkable rather for high stakes at bridge than common-sense--rashly allowed himself to be interviewed. Montenegro's grandiose schemes for conquest appeared next day in the papers. "The Tsar was furious. He threatened us even with annihilation! The King told him Dushan was known to be a liar, but it was of no use. It is finished! We have no more to expect from Russia!" But war preparations hurried on. And some of the Bank employees told me that the King had raised a loan in Vienna "in order to start an Agricultural Bank!" They smiled. Montenegro now tried to force the Turks to declare war by provoking two bad frontier fights near Kolashin and Andrijevitza, each time burning several Turkish blockhouses, and going far over the frontier. The Powers ordered the recall of the Montenegrin troops on August 5th, or they would have occupied the whole Berani district. I went to Andrijevitza on August 27th and stayed there a month. The big guns had already been taken up and were on the frontier, and ammunition was widely distributed, not only to Montenegrins, but also to the Serbs from Turkish territory, who came over the border at night. General Yanko Vukotitch was in command. There was a hospital full of wounded, and Andrijevitza was furious with the Government for having broken faith. They had been promised assistance, and had expected this fight to be followed at once by war. The whole district was strongly anti-Petrovitch, and in close touch with Serbia. Veshovitch, the frontier commandant, even said-- when I suggested that a declaration of war might be followed by the re-occupation of the Sanjak by Austria, and a possible attack on Montenegro: "What then? Anything would be better than the Government we have down there!" and pointed Cetinjewards. Jovan Plamenatz assured me emphatically that Austria would not attack them. And he counted for certain on Bulgar support. The Turks, however, displayed great restraint, and did not declare war. Veshovitch then told me that as neither the efforts of Bulgaria nor Montenegro could force them to it, Montenegro herself would begin. He had bombs ready to spring another Turkish blockhouse, and so soon as he had finished the big bread-oven for the army would do so, and cross the border. Sniping, as I saw myself, was already going on daily. A strange tale has been circulated that Montenegro mobilized but four days before war broke out. The above facts show this to be quite a mistake. Montenegro had been preparing over a year, and could have begun in July. I hastened to Cetinje to tell Count de Salis what was happening. He replied that the Powers were doing nothing useful, and he feared it was now too late. I went to the Russia Institut. It was October 3rd. Sofia Petrovna was happy and excited at the prospect of war; foretold the end of the Turk and the triumph of the Holy Orthodox Church, to which she was heart and soul passionately attached. While we were discussing the situation, in hurried Yougourieff, one of the Russian officers attached to the Legation, and superintending the Military Cadet School financed by Russia, who, though she was no longer supporting Nikola, was actively training young Montenegrins as cannon-fodder. He stopped short on seeing me; hesitated; said something in Russian. Seeing I was de trop, I rose to go. Sofia Petrovna bade me stay. "Mademoiselle," she said, "knows the whole political situation. You can speak before her." He asked me doubtfully: "Will you promise not to send off what I say to a newspaper?" I promised. He sat down and began hotly in French to Sofia: "The Montenegrins are absolutely mad! You must use all your influence to stop them. They must not make this war! We have already told them so most severely. They are mad, I tell you--we cannot and must not have war now." Sofia disagreed vehemently. All was ready. Things could not go on like this. "But I tell you," said Yougourieff excitedly, "absolutely there must be no Balkan war without Russia. And we are not ready." Sofia persisted: "My friend--we shall intervene. We said we would not in 1877--and we did. We shall now." He became very serious. "I tell you this is not 1877. We cannot intervene. Unless Austria intervenes, which God forbid, we have no excuse for war. And nothing is yet ready. We are working as fast as possible, but there is much yet to do. These people must wait!" He was in deadly earnest, and plainly speaking the truth. I asked quite suddenly: "And when will you be ready, Monsieur?" "In two years from now, Mademoiselle, we shall be absolutely ready for our great war!" It was October 3rd, 1912. Russia began her great war on August 1, 1914. Yougourieff was only two months out. No wonder he made me promise not to publish his remarks. We learn now, from a report by Gruitch, Serbian Minister in London, September 8, 1911, to the Serbian Foreign Office, that the date was known to others as well. Speaking of the agreement about Morocco, he says: "The agreement has one result, that war will be postponed three or four years. . . . Both France and her allies are of opinion that the war--even at the expense of great sacrifice, must be postponed to a later time, that it to say, until the year 1914-15" (see Bogitchevitch, xi). No wonder that Gavrilovitch and young Cambon approved of my peace policy, and that Yougourieff was emphatic. I went to General Yanko Vukotitch's house. Rakia was flowing. He, madame, his secretary, and others were in high feather. Yanko explained the plan of campaign to me. He was to lead the main division to Prizren. The two other divisions under Brigadier Boshkovitch and General Martinovitch, were to attack Scutari, and, having taken it, to join the triumphant Yanko at Prizren. No mention was made of when the other Balkan States were to come in. Bulgarian support was certain. Madame Yanko begged me to go with her husband and photograph his entry into Prizren. The whole campaign, it appeared, was expected only to last a few weeks, and only 150 beds had been made ready at the hospital. The Montenegrins honestly believed that theirs was the finest army for its size in Europe. General Martinovitch told me to go off to Podgoritza if I wanted to see the first shot fired. When I arrived there on October 6th all was ready and waiting. Another proof that the "four days' mobilization" tale is an error. King Nikola had made up his outstanding quarrel with his relatives, and the Royal Voyvodas, Marko, Sharko, Bozho, and Gjuro all arrived. On the night of the 8th all sang: "Let me see Prizren!" There was wild excitement. No one mentioned the Serbs. I asked, "What is the Serb army like?" They roared with laughter. "Oni chuvahjuf svinje Gospodjitza!" (They are swineherds, lady!) Next morning at 8 a.m. Prince Petar fired a gun into a Turkish camp across the frontier. The tale of the war has already been told. Here only a few significant facts need telling. Montenegro expected by rushing the first into war to occupy all the coveted districts, including Prizren, before Serbia was ready. Bulgaria would beat back the Turks, and Ferdinand and Nikita share the bulk of the peninsula. The Montenegrins recked nothing of the Serbs, but they miserably miscalculated. The Serbs reached Prizren before they did. It is possible that Bulgaria and Montenegro, in fact, forced on the war. Both knew they would gain nothing by waiting for Russia. And if two of the Balkan States insisted on war the other two were bound to come in. Montenegro's plan failed. Her first startling successes were due to the fact that the Maltsor risings had largely cleared the way for her. But as the Montenegrins began at once to treat Albanian territory as their own, and even loot Catholic Albanian houses, tension between the Maltsors and Montenegrins arose and increased. The Maltsors flung away the Montenegrin caps dealt out to them, withdrew in numbers, and soon consulted me as to whether they should attack the Montenegrins in the rear and cut them off. I begged them not to, as I then believed in the honesty of the Powers, and thought Albania would get justice. I regret it now. South Albania also perceived that the self-styled "liberators" who poured in from Greece were but brigands intent on gain and murder, and on November 28, 1912, Ismail Kemal, who was in Constantinople when war broke out, managed with difficulty to return to his native town Valona, where he hoisted the National flag, proclaimed the independence of Albania, and formed a provisional government. It was hoped that by thus showing that Albania wanted freedom, and detached herself completely from the Turks, she would be respected by Europe. For the Balkan Allies had stated they were at war only with the Turks. Official notification of Albania's resolve was sent to the Powers, and the Albanians hoped for sympathy, for it was they who in fact had aimed the first blow at Young Turk tyranny. The Greeks and Montenegrins and Serbs, far from sympathizing with Albania's wish for freedom, were incensed by it. The Greeks blockaded Valona, and cut the telegraph. The yacht of the Duc le Monpensier, however, ran the blockade, and took off Ismail Kemal, Gurikuchi, and that gallant chieftain Isa Boletin. He had fought on the side of the Serb till he saw what Serb victory would mean. The three pleaded their cause in the capitals of Europe. Europe meanwhile seethed with intrigue. Russia's plans were overset by the premature outbreak of the Balkan war. But she was bent on getting all she could out of it for her side, and dragged France along with her. At the beginning of the Italy-Tripoli war, Izvolsky had written: "We must even now not only concern ourselves with the best means of preserving peace and order in the Balkans, but also with the matter of extracting the greatest possible advantage to ourselves from coming events." The Powers called a Conference of Ambassadors in London to try to arrange a Balkan settlement. The Russian Ambassador in London reports, February 25, 1913, that England wishes peace and a compromise. Of France he states that M. Cambon "has directed himself in reality entirely to me. . . . When I recall his conversations and . . . add the attitude of Poincare, the thought comes to me that of all the Powers, France is the only one which, not to say that it wishes war, yet would look on it with least regret. . . . The disposition of France offers us on the one hand a guarantee, but on the other it must not happen that the war breaks out on account of interests more French than Russian, and in any case not under circumstances more favourable to France than to Russia." The Conference inevitably became a struggle by Russia to obtain all possible lands for her proteges regardless of the wishes of the inhabitants. Possession of land for a short time in the Middle Ages was given as reason for handing it over now. "We might as justly claim Calais," I said to a Podgoritza schoolmaster, "for it was ours at the same time!" "Why don't you," said he. "You have a navy?" Sir Edward Grey, in the interests of justice, stood out against Slav rapacity, but Russia insisted on having either Scutari or Djakovo for the Slavs; though Djakovo, a town of between two and three thousand houses, contained but one hundred Serb families. Nor was there a single Serb village near it. All were Albanian Moslems or Catholics, but they were offered up as a living sacrifice on the altar of Russia's ambitions. Montenegro meanwhile was very bitter. Yanko had failed to take Prizren. The population railed against the Government. The King had never recovered popularity since the bomb affair. Some of the condemned were still in prison. Had Prizren been taken, things would have been very different. All Montenegro had been trained from childhood to sing: "Onward, onward, let me see Prizren!" and though the town consisted of nearly four thousand Albanian houses and but 950 Serb ones, Prizren had become a sort of insanity with them. Not only Prizren was not taken by Montenegro, but Scutari was not either. The population now turned with savage desire on Scutari, about which previously little had been said. It had been believed that Constantinople would soon fall, and that the four Crown princes would enter it in state. Though how they could have been so simple as to think Russia would permit this, it is hard to understand. The cry rose: "Russia helped us in 1877, why does she not come forward now?" Whatever the heads of the land knew, the rank and file had confidently expected Russian intervention. Only by dragging in Austria could Russia's hand be forced. The Serbs endeavoured to goad Austria into action. News reached us that they had imprisoned and maltreated Prochaska, the Austrian Consul in Prizren, and Montenegro's delight and expectation were immense. His nose, said the Montenegrins, should be cut off just as though he were a Turk. Prochaska was, in fact, a brother Slav, a Czech, a capable man, whom I had met in 1908. Austria, it was confidently asserted at the inn dinner table, would be forced to fight--or for ever hide disgraced. Yanko Vukotitch's secretary, who had been up at Prizren, described to me with the greatest gusto what happened: "Oh, if you could but have seen what the officers did to Prochasko! They rolled him on the ground, spat in his face, tore the Austrian flag, did all that you can imagine that is most dirty upon him! Austria will never dare tell the world what we did to her consul. All Europe would laugh at her, and she would have to declare war." "But why was this done?" I asked. "Because he asked some dirty Albanians to his consulate." "But a consul has the right to ask whom he pleases to his consulate. It was his duty also to protect the Catholics." "Very well. This is to teach Austria we have no need of her consuls. Austria is finished!" He, as all the Montenegrins, was furious at any attempt to save the Albanians from extirpation. All those who would not be Slavized were to be killed. Austria would have been fully justified in making war on Serbia. And as Russia was not ready, and the Serbs engaged with the Turks, then was the moment to do it. But Germany was strong for peace. "Berlin had applied itself, above all, to calm the exasperation and desire for intervention at the Ballplatz," says Baron Beyens, Belgian Minister in Berlin. "The Archduke Ferdinand stated at Berlin that Austria had come to the end of the concessions it could make to its neighbour. The Emperor and his councillors showered upon him, none the less, counsels of moderation, which William II when conducting his guest to the railway station summarized in these expressive words: "Above all, no folly (pas de betises). . . . But to lead Austria to show itself more tractable, as it is believed here the Imperial Government has succeeded in doing, is not enough to pacify the conflict. It yet remains to bend the obstinate resistance of Serbia, and to effect a diminution of her demands. There was a rumour last week in the European Chancellories that M. Sasonov had ceased to struggle against the Court party, which wishes to drag Russia into war, though the soil of the Empire is undermined with revolution and military preparations are yet insufficient." Prochaska, after some weeks of imprisonment, was released. Austria humbled her pride and accepted an apology. Prochaska was compensated and bound to secrecy. As my informant had foretold, Austria dared not tell her humiliation. In Montenegro this produced a howl of contempt. Austria was finished; you could do what you pleased with her with impunity; the next war would be with Austria. Montenegro, on her side, thought well to insult her. Perhaps one more stab would make her fight, and then hurrah for Russia and Constantinople! From the conquered districts came piteous reports of the hideous cruelties which Serb and Montenegrin alike were committing on the Albanian populations. Far from concealing their deeds, the conquerors boasted of them. A Serb officer nearly choked with laughter over his beer, as he told how his men had bayoneted the women and children of Ljuma. And one of the Petrovitches boasted to me that in two years no one in the conquered lands would dare speak "that dirty language" (Albanian). Moslem men were given the choice of baptism or death, and shot down. The women were unveiled, and they and the children driven to church and baptized. "In one generation we shall thus Serbize the lot!" they said. And later evidence proved that these reports were true. No Turk ever treated Armenian worse than did the two Serb peoples treat the Albanians in the name of the Holy Orthodox Church. Stanko Markovitch, Governor of Podgoritza, forbade the giving of any food to the starving people of the burnt villages, and told me flatly that they were doomed to die. Podgoritza exclaimed he was a fool to tell me this: "Now she will denounce us in England and America, too!" But they did not deny it. News came from Djakovo that Father Palitch, a plucky Franciscan, whom I had met there in 1908, had been bayoneted to death for refusing to make the sign of the cross in Orthodox fashion. The account of his death, given by Moslems and Catholics alike, was denied by the Montenegrin Government. Austria rightly insisted on an examination, for, as a Catholic, he was under her protection. This was made by a commission under Mgr. Miedia, Bishop of Prizren. Father Palitch's body was exhumed. It was proved that he was killed by bayonets, and the tale of the Montenegrins that he had been shot when trying to escape was devoid of foundation, there being no gunshot wounds in the body. The case was gone into fully. Austria a second time accepted apology and certain compensations, and failed to respond to provocation. No Russian intervention could now be expected. But the Slavs continued to cry: "Death to Albania," and it was the clear duty of Austria, and should have been also of Italy, to save it. The organ of the Serb Black Hand, Piemont, advocated the slaughter of all the inhabitants of Scutari, to punish them for having dared to resist. War, as is always the case, had aroused the worst passions of this--at best--semi-civilized race. But the Powers realized that Russia's unbridled greed on behalf of her Serb proteges must be checked. Scutari was a town of 35,000 Albanian inhabitants. Montenegro was ordered by the Powers to withdraw from Scutari, and Serbia from Scutari and Durazzo. The Powers sent a naval demonstration, and prepared a collective Note. The Tsar ordered King Nikola to yield. But while he spoke publicly, the representatives of France and Russia did all they could to impede the delivery of the Note till too late, in order to give the Montenegrins time to acquire by fraud what they could not take by force. King Nikola and many of his subjects went about swearing aloud that if they did not get all they wanted they would set the whole of Europe on fire, and the combined Serb and Montenegrin armies would take Vienna. The plans for the taking of Scutari by fraud had probably been long laid. In February came news that the gallant commander of Scutari, Hussein Riza Bey, had been murdered-and his place taken by the notorious Essad Pasha. Essad had been servant of the Old Turk, and then member of the Committee of Union and Progress. He aimed solely at power for himself, and now became servant of the Slav. Hussein Riza, seeing no help could be expected from the Turks, and determined not to yield the town to the Slavs, decided to hand it over to the Albanians. On his mother's side he was of Albanian blood. His plan was to communicate with all the tribesmen, and to arrange that they should fall on the besieging army in the rear while he and his army made a simultaneous sortie. He hoped thus to cut up the Montenegrin army and save the town. One of the Franciscan fathers and another man were to steal through the lines at night and arrange that the tribesmen should attack when Hussein Riza hoisted the Albanian flag on the citadel. That night after Hussein Riza had supped with Essad, he was shot dead a few yards away from the house by two men disguised as women. Osman Bali and Mehmed Kavaja, both servants of Essad, boasted afterwards they had done the deed. The town crier proclaimed that nothing was to be said about the murder and Essad, who was second, now took command, and soon entered into communication with the Montenegrins. As he knew only Turkish and Albanian, the letters went through the hands of the dragoman of the Italian consulate. Italy played an oddly double game. She was bound by Treaty to assist Austria to preserve the integrity of Albania. But she did not object to King Nikola--father of the Queen of Italy--taking the town if he could. Italy was striving for influence in Montenegro, out of hatred of Austria, and failed to see that the South Slav, not the German-Austrian, was her real danger. While France and Russia delayed matters, Petar Plamenatz drew up terms with Essad. Provided he evacuated the town in time for Montenegro to occupy it before the Powers could stop it, he was to leave with all honours, and a large supply of arms and food. He was also to aid the Serbs to reach Durazzo later, and as a reward was to be recognized as ruler in his own district of Tirana. A vile enough plot. In order to deceive Europe, the Montenegrin Government telegraphed everywhere an account of a huge fight, in which Scutari had been taken, and thousands of Montenegrins wounded. But it was such a lie that they dared not give it either to The Times' correspondent or to me. Essad withdrew. The Montenegrins entered without firing a shot. Thus was Scutari betrayed to her enemy. That the plot was known to the Italian Legation is clear, for the Italian war correspondents had the information from the Legation and hurried to the spot the day before. King Nikola having obtained the town, tried to effect a bargain with Austria by offering the Lovtchen in exchange for it. But I fancy the Powers burked this. The war was over. All through I used to say to myself: "War is so obscene, so degrading, so devoid of one redeeming spark, that it is quite impossible there can ever be a war in West Europe." This was the one thing that consoled me in the whole bestial experience. War brings out all that is foulest in the human race, and the most disgusting animal ferocity poses as a virtue. As for the Balkan Slav and his vaunted Christianity, it seemed to me all civilization should rise and restrain him from further brutality. Of the saving of Scutari by the arrival of International forces under Admiral Sir Cecil Burney I have told elsewhere, and of the months of relief work in the villages burnt by Serb and Montenegrin, who had destroyed nearly every olive and fruit tree, and devastated the land. But even when their army of saviours arrived the luckless Scutarenes were ordered to make no demonstration, and had to lay aside the flowers and flags they were joyfully preparing. In return for their obedience, their enemies reported in the papers that the "naval force was received without interest or enthusiasm." The Montenegrins left, after having burnt and pillaged nearly a third of the bazar as vengeance. At Podgoritza, where I went to fetch my store of relief stuff, I was set on by a number of officials at the parcel office. Furious at losing Scutari, they swore they would retake it and take Bosnia, too. I told them not to talk so foolishly. They cried: "We--the Serb people--have beaten the Turk. We are now a danger to Europe. We shall take what we please. The Serbs will go to Vienna. We shall go to Serajevo. We have the whole of the Russian army with us. If you do not believe it--you will see. We shall begin in Bosnia!" This was in May 1913. Yougourieff, by the way, was delighted at the capture of Scutari, and told me that the fait accompli could not be upset. "Except by accomplishing another," I said. The French and Italian legations, too, were indecently elated. The Great Serbia party explained its plans freely. King Ferdinand was to be assassinated, and Bulgaria be suzerain to Serbia. There was to be war with Austria. Any one in Great Serbia's path was to be "removed." A friend, who was doing relief work at Uskub, told me that there the Serb officers talked incessantly of their next war with Austria, and were savagely extirpating the Bulgarian and Albanian populations from the newly annexed districts. As for M. Krajewsky, the French Consul, he now "outjuggered" the Jugoslavs. "Never," he declared, "would France allow independent Albania to exist." The Russian Consul Miller, on the contrary, said he had written the strongest possible report against Montenegro to his Government, saying "that the Montenegrins by their disgraceful conduct in war had forfeited all right to it." His report did much to save the town. The Dalmatian doctor, who had cured me of my long illness in 1910, was also most emphatically anti-Serb and Montenegrin, though a Slav himself, declaring them to be a set of savages who should not be allowed to take Albanian lands. This was the more noteworthy, as he had previously been by no means pro-Albanian. On June 12th Mr. Nevinson arrived with Mr. Erickson, an American\ missionary who had done much work in Albania, and on the 15th we started to ride through the country to learn the state of things. As little has been written of Albania at this period I give a rsume of my diary. June 15th.--Rode to Alessio, past the villages burnt by the Serbs. Found the Albanian flag flying on the bridge of Alessio, and Albanian guards. Town dead, inn ruined. District patrolled by Ded Soko's men. Perfect order. Heard tales of Serb brutality to prisoners. Tuesday, 17th.--Provisional government of Kruja welcomed us in grand old house. The government, with old Kadi at its head, hoped anxiously for appointment of a Prince. Full of fear of Essad. Told sad tale of suffering. When war began they determined not to help the Turks, and declared independence in November, hoping thus to escape complications and take no part in the war. When the vanguard of the Serb army arrived they believed that, as there were no Serbs in the district, there was no danger. It is pathetic to note that the luckless Albanians at first believed that the Serbs and Montenegrins spoke truth when they said the war was in order to liberate their brethren. That whole districts of solid Albanian population would be seized, did not occur to them. They sat up all night and made bread for the Serb army, and treated them as guests. Later, they found their mistake. The Serbs treated them as conquered. . . . People were arrested by the wayside and hanged without trial. Three women were brought from villages to Kruja and hanged there. In all fifty quite innocent people suffered. The two Serb officers responsible for these atrocities were Dragoslav Voinovitch (artillery) and Dragoljub Petrovitch (infantry). . . . Left Kruja. Stopped at wattled shed for coffee. Han burnt by Serbs. Folk gathered and told how Serbs had swooped on village, robbed and arrested innocent people, taken them to Kruja and hanged them. All said they had expected the Serbs to be allies and not foes. At Tirana (18th) we visited Essad Pasha, and were struck with the number of troops in the town. Essad explained they would leave by a Turkish transport. He spoke with contempt of Ismail Kemal and the provisional governmental Liter, at the house of Avdi bey, a number of refugees from Dibra arrived and told of the sufferings in the villages annexed by the Serbs. They asserted five hundred burnt-out destitute persons had been prevented by the Serbs from receiving help from the agent of the Macedonian Relief Committee. We arranged to send maize. At Durazzo folk were very nervous about Essad Pasha, who alone had an armed force and was said to be in constant communication with the Greek Bishop at Duiazzo, a notorious intriguer. The Italian consul reported: "Perfect order prevails, but the delay of the Powers must make for unsettlement." This, alas, was what certain Powers intended. At the time the journey had the glory of a plunge into a freed land rejoicing in liberty won after centuries of anguish. At Kavaia and Pekinj we heard of the massacre of prisoners by the Serbs and the relief of the people that the invaders had gone, they hoped, for ever. At Elbasan admirable order was being kept by Akif Pasha. Here we heard how the Serbs had imprisoned Albanian patriots. All hoped a Prince would soon come and suppress Essad, who was feared as a possible danger. The Americans were buying land and planning a big college, to which the people looked forward as a means for national regeneration. Parents were already refusing to send children to the Greek school, in spite of the fulminations of the Greek priest. A young man arrived from Starovo and told how he and two others had been taken prisoners by the Serbs and offered their lives for a heavy ransom. Only he had enough to pay. Both the others were killed. A rumour came that the Serbs and Bulgars had begun to fight for the possession of Monastir. It had been allotted by agreement to Bulgaria, but the Serbs were in possession and refused to yield it. We decided to push on to Ochrida to learn what was happening. Arrived at Stiuga we found Serb officers in possession. We had left free Albania and were in a conquered land under military rule. They at once started "propaganda," and had the impudence to say that the dialect of Struga was as pure Serb as that of Belgrade. But an officer bent on annexation will say anything. Poor old Jovan Golubovitch, the innkeeper at Podgoritza, was a native of Struga, and was known always as Jovan Bulgar. We visited the uniquely interesting fishtraps on the Drin, built like a prehistoric lake-village. These, said our Serb escort, would be a source of great wealth when modernized. "But," we objected, "perhaps this will not be yours. The question has to be arbitrated." They retorted they would accept no arbitration, and cared nothing for agreements. What Serbia had taken, Serbia would keep. The Bulgars should never recover one kilometre. Friday, 27th.--At Ochrida--after ten years. Town most melancholy. A tablet on the big plane tree commemorates the "liberation" of the town. But there are no signs of joy. Even in 1904, after the Bulgar revolution and under Turkish military rule, the town was not so dead and hopeless as now under the Serb. All seems crushed beneath an iron heel. Then the Bulgar population hoped for union with Bulgaria. Now the Serb was dominant. The Bulgar school was closed, and soldiers were at the door. The Bulgar churches were shut, and their priests had disappeared. So had the bishop. Some people recognized me. An old woman rushed up and told me things were worse than under the Turk, but we dared make few enquiries lest our informants should suffer. Only the great lake was the same as before in its marvellous beauty. I felt like a ghost among the shadows of all we had striven for ten years ago. The bazar, once full of Moslems, was half deserted. The intransigence of the Serb officers was here as blatant as at Struga. They were eagerly waiting the declaration of war on Bulgaria. And would accept no form of arbitration that did not give all to themselves. We spoke strongly of the wickedness of fighting their allies. They said they cared for no treaty, and meant to fight--the sooner the better. All they had taken they would soon Serbize. They --the military--had the power, and would do what they chose. That the policy was a deliberate one we now know from published documents. On February 4, 1913, the Serb Minister at Petersburg telegraphed: "the Minister for Foreign Affairs told me Serbia was the only state in the Balkans in which Russia had confidence, and that Russia would do everything for Serbia." Serbia felt quite safe in tearing up her Bulgarian "scrap of paper." The Serb officers were, in fact, most explicit, and told us they had all their plans laid and expected soon to be back in Durazzo, and to keep it. So set were they on fighting Bulgaria that had the Bulgars waited but a few hours the Serbs would probably have saved them the trouble of firing the first shot. The whole guilt rests with Serbia, for it was she who broke her pledged word and threw down the glove. Kosovo Day was a melancholy spectacle. Nothing is more dolorous than a people forced "to rejoice" by an army of occupation. All shops are shut, and the population summoned to church to celebrate the "freeing" of the land. Once how pleased I should have been. Now I have seen and know too much! The people of Ochrida had to officially rejoice that their nationality was destroyed, though it had survived some six centuries of the Turk. At Pogradech we again found the Serbs. Here the whole population is Albanian. There was no doubt of their sentiments. They asked anxiously as to the fate of their town, and dreaded lest the Serb occupation should be permanent. Wanted news of free Albania, and asked when the Prince would arrive. At the han, when paying for my horse, I asked for Turkish money as change, for we were leaving the Serb zone. The hanjee and those in the inn burst into sudden joy: "Ah, she too does not want anything Serb!" I was alarmed lest a prowling Serb should overhear and make them pay dearly for patriotism. We arrived at Koritza on June 30th and found it "in a state of great tension." "Persons afraid of arrest. A sort of silent terror in the air. Great Greek propaganda going on, and Greek troops everywhere. People called on us and said many wished to come, but dared not. They prayed us to save Koritza. Called on the Commandant, Colonel Condoulis, to whom Mr. Nevinson had an introduction." I learnt what a mistake the Americans had made in 1903, when they put the mission under Austrian instead of English protection. The Greeks now, in consequence, pretended that the Albanian school was an Austrian school, and declared there was no Albanian movement. The Albanian Nationalists, on the other hand, were in bitter trouble, for, through the years of Turkish rule, they had with danger and toil kept this school "the beacon light," open. They now found the Greek more oppressive than the Turk. The American missionaries had been expelled from the town at twenty-four hours' notice. The school was closed. The Turkish troops had behaved well in the town, and never entered a private house. The Greeks had shown themselves as conquerors bent on pillage, and behaved with cruelty and violence. Colonel Condoulis did not even pretend to be out for anything but wholesale annexation. He showed on a map frontiers which should include even Tepeleni. I exclaimed, horrified: "But that is half Albania!" Condoulis did not deny it. He merely said: "There is a French proverb which says--appetite comes with eating. We have eaten; now we must eat more and more." I replied: "Monsieur, those that eat too much get bellyache." Which annoyed him. I have met few things more repulsive than a military man bent on conquest, for lust of conquest brings a man lower than the beasts. The beasts eat for hunger. Condoulis wished to eat for sheer greed. May the day come when such men will be looked On as mad dogs to be destroyed painlessly before they have time to inflict misery upon peoples. What with the Serbs at Ochrida and tijle Greeks at Kctitza, I began to regret that I had ever wished to send the Turk from Europe. While he was there, there was yet hope. These "Christian" conquerors were a hundredfold worse. They showed their devilry by arranging a meeting that should cause Mr. Nevinson to write to his paper that Koritza wished to be Greek. The arrival of a well-known journalist was a chance to be exploited. Unluckily for Condoulis, we were not in the Balkans for the first time. The visit arranged for us at the Bishop's therefore missed fire. We found his Grace seated at a table, at which there were some fourteen local shopkeepers, who, when told to do so by the Bishop, stated to us that they wanted to be Greek. It would, indeed, have needed some courage to say in the presence of Greek officials that they did not want to be Greek! "You see," said our guide, "the Christians of Koritza want to be Greek!" We were trotted off to the house of an old Moslem, who also replied obediently. What else could the poor man do? An unarmed population faced with a big army is helpless. Many an English village would declare itself Choctaw if five thousand armed men bade it do so--or be extirpated. We lunched with Condoulis, and learnt that the Greeks were as anxious to fight the Bulgars as were the Serbs. "Death to Bulgaria" was their cry. Not a metre of land to be ceded to those "cochons de Bulgares." "We went," they said, "willingly to fight the Turk. We go with ten times more joy to fight the Bulgars; they are our worst enemies." And they would listen to no remonstrance. So strong were they on this that I could only think Greece and Serbia had a secret understanding on the subject, and that Greece, like Serbia, knew that Russia had no use for a Big Bulgaria. And so indeed it was. The Greeks next invited us to a mass meeting, which was to be held to ascertain the wishes of the population. We accepted, and on returning to our quarters learnt that Greek soldiers and priests were going from house to house ordering every one to attend the meeting and close their shops. It was intended to make use of us, for the women were told to come and hear what an Englishwoman had to say to them. The Greek authorities, aware that we knew no Greek, would have been able to interpret bogus messages from us. We decided, therefore, to arrive so late as not to be put on the platform and made use of, and went for a walk lest an officer be sent to fetch us. One was--but we had already left. We arrived late at the meeting. Surrounded by Greek military, the populace had had to consent to the sending of a telegram to the Ambassadors' Conference in London, stating that Koritza voted unanimously for Greece. So soon as it was dark, people came to visit us. Sixty Moslems outside the town sent an emissary to know if they could speak with us. We dared do nothing that would subject them to arrest. We had heard too much of the fate of prisoners. We were prayed to send a counter telegram to London, but there was no nearer telegraph station than Berat. The wire controlled by the Greeks was, of course, useless. The crisis was acute, and the prayers of the Koritzans pressing. We gave up our plan of travelling further South, and started for Berat so soon as mules and guide could be prepared. The Greek authorities prepared a strange pantomime at Moskopol, our first halting-place. They sent up overnight a number of people who danced out to meet us like stage peasants, crying: "Welcome to a Greek town!" Moskopol is, in fact, inhabited by Vlachs and Albanians. The imported gang went everywhere with us to try to prevent our discovering this fact. It was clear they were imported, for they seemed to be in the town for the first time. One spoke Albanian to a woman as we passed. I asked how he had learnt it. He replied: "From my mother." "Then you are half Albanian," I said. "No," he answered, much vexed. "My mother is Greek, but there were no Greek schools when she was young, poor woman, so she never learnt to speak [i.e. she only knew Albanian] properly!" This is a fair sample of Greek propaganda. We reached Berat, and were received with great enthusiasm. The telegram was sent, and, we hope, helped to save Koritza. At Valona, where our journey ended, we met a number of refugees from Chameria, splendid mountain men, who had been till now under local autonomy with their own old Albanian law. They were threatened with Greek annexation, and prayed us piteously to save their Fatherland. We visited the Albanian provisional government. A small assembly in a poor house. But it represented the hopes of a little nation. Its members were earnest and anxious. War had broken out between Serbo-Greek against Bulgar. They feared that Bulgaria could not stand against the combined forces, and the victory of Greek and Serb would spell ruin for Albania. I returned to Scutari and resumed relief work. Things were going badly. The Powers who wished to ruin Albania had arranged that the international control should not have jurisdiction beyond ten kilometres from the town, and gave no signs of appointing any form of government for the country, nor recognizing a native one. The two gallant tribes of Hoti and Gruda begged hard not to be included in Montenegro. In Montenegro I learnt there was disgust at having been dragged into the second Balkan war Montenegro could not refuse to take part as, then, if the Serbs won, she would lose all her war-spoils. I noted in my diary: "The Powers are making a damned mess of everything by their shilly-shally. . . . What rot it is for five Powers to be spending the Lord knows what on these warships, admirals, soldiers, etc. hanging about Scutari while the people up-country are dying of hunger." The suffering in the burnt villages was terrible. People were cooking grass for their starving children, and the death-rate from diarrhoea was high. Anything the Belgians suffered in 1914 was child's play in comparison. Meanwhile Roumania entered into the second Balkan war and stabbed Bulgaria in the back. History records few dirtier actions, nor need we waste pity on Roumania for the punishment which has since fallen upon her. That the destruction of Bulgaria was early planned by Greek and Serb seems likely, for, as early as April, the Serb Minister at Bucarest proposed a Serbo-Roumanian alliance against Bulgaria, and the Serbian General staff began fortifying Ovtchepolje. Bulgaria fell, and the Treaty of Bucarest was signed on August 10, 1913. Albania was deadly anxious. The victorious Serbs and Greeks were drunk with blood, and thirsted for hers, too. And still the Powers made no move to send a Prince. At the end of August I went up to the Shala mountains, where refugees from the Gusinje district seized by Montenegro, came in misery; survivors of the massacres which, in the name of Christianity, were going on. I examined witnesses. Four battalions of Montenegrins were carrying on a reign of terror. Moslems were given choice of baptism or death. Praying in Moslem form was forbidden. Men were slaughtered, and their wives unveiled and baptised, and in some cases violated as well. I was prayed to ask the King of England, who has many Moslem subjects, to save these hapless Moslems from extinction. To Scutari came similar news of the hideous cruelty, by means of which Great Serbia was being created. An Ipek man, well educated and of high standing, told of what happened there: "Every day the telal cried in the streets 'To-day the Government will shoot ten (or more) men!' No one knew which men they would be, or why they were shot. They were stood in a trench, which was to be their grave. Twelve soldiers fired, and as the victims fell the earth was shovelled over them, whether living or dead. Baptisms were forced by torture. Men were plunged into the ice-cold river, and then half roasted till they cried for mercy. And conversion to Christianity was the price." Many, terrorized into baptism, came to me. One man with tears in his eyes assured me he had consented only to save his wife and children, but that he felt now that he was defiled and wished he were dead. The International forces did nothing. They had no jurisdiction outside Scutari. Unfortunately, also, the British staff knew no language but English, and the most reliable dragomans knew only French, Italian, or German. England was thus more heavily handicapped than the representatives of the other Powers, and the Albanians asked with wonder: "Are there, then, no schools in England?" And, in general, Scutari's high idea of European civilization shrivelled and shrank. By the end of September the conduct of the Serbs in the Dibra district was so bad that the maddened populace, profiting by a moment when the garrison was reduced, revolted, drove out the Serbs and retook Ochrida, where they were welcomed by both Bulgars and Albanians. As I wrote at the time: "It is criminal of the Powers to delay the frontier commissions. Both Serb and Montenegrin are working to clear off the Albanians from the debatable districts so as to show a Slav majority to the Commission." The ill-timed revolt gave them a chance of doing this. The Serbs fell on the Gostivar district, burning the villages with petroleum, and throwing such people as could not escape, back into the flames with their bayonets. An urgent appeal for bandages and medicaments came from Elbasan, into which refugees were pouring. Our naval force was not allowed to supply any, but I begged two cases of stores from the Italian consulate and started across country to Elbasan to the horror of the International control, who had the idea that travelling in Albania was dangerous. As I soon got beyond their zone they could not interfere. At Tirana and at Elbasan I found thousands of destitute creatures pouring in, footsore and exhausted. Their accounts of Serb brutality up-country was amply confirmed by a letter of a Serb in the Radnitchke Novina (see Carnegie Report): "My dear friend," writes a Serb soldier, "appalling things are going on. I am terrified of them. . . . I dare not tell you morer but I may say Ljuma (an Albanian tribe) no longer exists. There is nothing but corpses and ashes." A Franciscan, who went there, told me of the bodies of the poor little bayoneted babies. "There are villages of 100, 150, 200 houses where there is literally not a single man. We collect them in parties of forty to fifty and bayonet them to the last one," The paper says it cannot publish the details, "they are too heart-rending." Nothing could make the luckless refugees believe that the Powers had really given them to the Serbs. They asked piteously when the Prince was coming to drive the Serbs out. And still the Powers did nothing. Some Bulgars among the refugees told that life under the Serbs was impossible. The only time they had been free from persecution was when the Serb army was busy fighting the Bulgar army. It was feared the Serbs would descend on Elbasan, and I carried away a whole mule-load of valuables to save them from being pillaged, and rode with it across country without an escort or weapon. I learnt from the refugees that twenty-six villages had been wholly or partially burnt and pillaged by the Serbs. Few of the refugees had any weapons. I reported all this in vain in Scutari. Not a Power would move. The Serbs, grown impudent, then entered strictly Albanian territory in defiance of the International forces, and camped in Mirdita while the Montenegrins devastated the Gashi and Krasnichi tribes. At last the Commission for delimiting the northern frontier started. The Russian, troubled doubtless by a guilty conscience, had feared to start without a strong military escort, and lack of forage made this impossible. Hence much delay. Our military attache from Rome represented England, but it was reported that France and Russia were out to grab all they could for the Serbs, regardless of the nationality of the population, and were furious whenever he protested, for, as England belonged to the Entente, they considered it his duty to support them on every point, regardless of fact and justice. More attacks of the Serbs on the Albanians in the annexed lands brought more misery. "October 21st.--Thousands of refugees arriving from Djakovo and neighbourhood. Victims of Montenegro." My position was indescribably painful, for I had no funds left, and women came to me crying: "If you will not feed my child, throw it in the river. I cannot see it starve." I decided to return to England after three and a half years' absence, to try and rouse help and action there. And I said goodbye with sorrow to Scutari, beautiful and sorrowing, which had been my most kind home for so long. On arriving in London I packed up the Gold Medal given me by King Nikola and returned it to him, stating that I had often expressed surprise at persons who accepted decorations from Abdul Hamid, and that now I knew that he and his subjects were even more cruel than the Turk I would not keep his blood-stained medal any longer. I communicated this to the English and Austrian Press. The order of St. Sava given me by King Petar of Serbia, I decided to keep a little longer till some peculiarly flagrant case should occur, and this I expected soon. So apparently did Austria, who, exasperated by the repeated outrages of the Serbs, and aware of the activity of Hartwig at Belgrade, realized she was marked down as Russia's next victim on the proscribed list, and that the hour was arriving when she must kill or be killed. Austria's position was now perilous. Russia had come to an agreement with Japan, and had her hands free for the Near East. Hartwig was pre-eminent in Belgrade. Roumania had been roped in, and had dealt the stab in the back to Bulgaria, which had assured the Serbo-Greek victory. Bulgaria was "put in the corner." France, the financier of the Near East, refused her a loan. Italy it is true, took Tripoli with the consent of the Powers, and France, tied as she was to Russia, could not object. But she viewed with great jealousy any increase of Italian power on the Mediterranean, and began therefore to build up Greece as a naval counterpoise. When Bulgaria approached Paris for a loan, Greece protested: "Do not finance our most hated rivals." France refused the loan. Bulgaria turned to England, who looked very favourably on the plan, recognizing Bulgaria's industry and capability. Those who are in a position to know, state that almost the whole sum had been arranged for when France heard of the transaction and requested that England, as a member of the Entente, would not finance a loan that France had thought fit to refuse. England drew back, and Bulgaria had to go to Germany for the necessary money. Russia had no use for Bulgaria. Therefore France had none. And England, or the section of it bitted and bridled by The Times, went the way it was driven. Or, perhaps, like a certain animal, was induced that way by dangled carrots. The Times' supplements, full of praise of Tsardom, must have cost some one a pretty penny. Meanwhile Russia was assuring the Serbs that the Balkan war was but a first step, and that Bosnia and the Herzegovina would soon be theirs. Ristitch, Serb Minister at Bucarest, states on November 13, 1912: "The Ministers of France and Russia advise, as friends of Serbia, that we should not 'go the limit' as regards the question of an outlet on the Adriatic. ... It would be better that Serbia . . . should strengthen herself and await with as great a degree of preparation as possible the important events which must soon make their appearance among the Great Powers." December 27, 1912.--The Serb Minister in Petersburg telegraphs: "The Minister for Foreign Affairs replied that in view of our successes he had confidence in our strength, and believed we could give a shock to Austria. For that reason we should feel satisfied with what we were to receive and consider it as a temporary haltingplace. . . . The future remained to us. . . . Bulgaria, meantime, would bring her ethnic mission to a close." Small wonder that in May 1913 the Montenegrins boasted to me: "We, the Serb nation, are a danger to Europe. We have all the Russian army with us, and shall take what we choose." Small wonder, too, that Austria, realizing she must soon fight for her very existence against a very strong combine, approached Italy in September 1913 and asked what would be her attitude in case of an Austrian war with Serbia. Italy, who was already dabbling with the Entente, though nominally a member of the Triple Alliance, replied: "Such a war would be a most dangerous adventure." Austria knew then that Italy could not be reckoned on. We now slide into 1914, and Yougourieff's date, for "our great war" approaches. Russian preparations went on apace, and France, under Russian pressure, extended her term of military service to three years. CHAPTER TWENTY. 1914 DURING the winter of 1913-14 I gathered funds for Albania, and the American missionaries worked hard at feeding the refugees of Gostivar and Dibra. General Phillips, in command at Scutari, did all his funds would allow for the refugees there, but reported that the Serbs' victims were dying of hunger in the Gashi mountains at the rate of twenty a day. But the Mansion House refused to start a fund. Mr. Willard Howard took cinema photographs of the starving people in their burnt ruins, hoping to rouse public feeling against the Serbs and stop their further war plans. At the Foreign Office I begged protection for the Balkan Moslems, who were being barbarously exterminated, and stated that until it was seen that the Balkan conquerors were capable of just rule, the Capitulations should remain in force. Those with whom I spoke admitted that the consular reports from Uskub and Monastir were very bad, but that it was not advisable to publish them. In truth, we were hopelessly tied to Russia and could say nothing about her pet lambs, even though the truth of the accusations had been proved up to the hilt by the Carnegie Report. The laws signed by King Petar in October 1913 for the purpose of crushing the annexed regions are alone enough in their barbarity to condemn Serbia. They are published in the Carnegie Report, which should be read by all interested in forming a just and lasting Balkan peace. It was also made clear by the Carnegie Commission that the accusation that the atrocities were planned and carried out by the Serb "Black Hand" society were true. Damian Popovitch, the leader of the regicides, led the massacres of Kosovo. All was part of a prearranged Great Serbian plan. "The Serbs," I overheard two Montenegrins say in the inn at Rijeka, "are right. They put these gentry (non-Serb population) to the sword as they go, and clean the land." As the Black Hand was a "government within a government," and unofficial, Belgrade could always pretend to be ignorant of its doings. Both the Tsrna Ruka (Black Hand) and larodna Odbrana (National Defence) societies had a free hand. The Carnegie Report tells: "The population at Uskub called their station the Black House, from the name of the League itself, The Black Hand. The worst crimes were committed by this organization, known to all the world, and under powerful protection. It was of distinct advantage to the regular government to have under its hand an irresponsible power like this, which soon became all powerful, and could be disowned if necessary. . . . Our records are full of depositions which throw light on the activities of these legalized brigands. Each town had its captain. . . . Where complaints were made to the regular authorities they pretended to know nothing, or, if the person were obscure, punished him. If he were a personage, as for example the Archbishop of Veles, the bands were sent from the town down to the villages, only to be replaced immediately by bands from Uskub." In February 1914 I received a letter from Monastir, from my former dragoman of 1904. Since then he had worked for years for a well-known Greek firm in India, and returned invalided home to Monastir just before the first Balkan war broke out From him I had heard of the first joy of the populace when the Turkish army fled before the invading Serb, and then of the speedy revulsion of feeling when they found that the Serb came not as a liberator, but as a conqueror. In January 1914 he wrote: "Hardly a year has elapsed since Monastir fell into Servian hands, and this very short period has been enough to turn it into a desert city." And he detailed the reasons. In February, 1914, he wrote: "I write from Monastir, or I should say Bitoli, for there is no city of the name of Monastir in the vast Serbian Empire whose Emperor, Peter Karageorgevitch is daily wheting (sic) his sword sharp in order to be able to inflict a death-blow on the old Austrian Emperor. The conquest of Bosnia and Herzegovina and the creation of a vast and powerful Serbian Empire, even mightier than that of Dushan, is occupying the minds of all army men. . . . Travelling from Salonika to Monastir one is struck with the fewness of the passengers . . . where have all these people gone? The average number does not exceed ten, against hundreds in Turkish times. It is roughly estimated twenty thousand persons have emigrated from Monastir. . . . Taxes are tremendous; this city must pay a war tax of 1,000,000 francs. We see we have only exchanged a bad rule for a worse rule. This amount will go to the War Office, for in Serbia the army has twofold duties--to rule and to fight. There is hardly any other country in the world where military men have concentrated such a great power in their hands. The King and the civil authorities, needs must comply with the wishes of the officers. The Serbian officer has no respect for any one, and Albanian subjects, natives of Elbasan and Koritza, are enlisted by force in the army. And when Mr. ----- interfered on behalf of a man from Koritza, saying that they compelled people to complain to the foreign consuls, the recruiting officer replied: 'We shall imprison every blessed man who steps over the threshold of a consulate. You mean to say you will go to that big idiot the British consul. That fool of a consul must think himself very lucky for England is a friendly power, otherwise we would have killed him!'" He had, in fact, reported their conduct, and they seem to have been aware of this. The letter continues: "You cannot but pity us who are ruled by such men. . . . The only thing they are interested in is to collect taxes and to send gendarmes from house to house telling people that if they do not send their children to Serbian schools they will be punished. Of vino and beer they drink abundance. 'Bozhe, Bozhe, bez vino ne se mozhe!' . . . Corruption in all branches of the administration Is the essence of Serbian rule." This picture, corroborating as it does the Carnegie Report of the "government within a government," is the more valuable, as it is evident that early in 1914 the writer had heard the plans for a "death-blow to the Austrian Emperor" discussed. Possibly his death and not that of his heir was first intended. The Serbs seem to have been so sure of Entente support that even the adverse reports of a consul had no terrors for them. It was the last letter I had from the writer. He is dead, the bright and honest boy who used to discuss endlessly to me the happy land that Macedonia would be if once "freed from the Turk." From Montenegro news was no better. I learnt of the boycott of the Albanian population of Podgoritza--the people who, in fact, carried on most of the trade of Montenegro, and heard: "As to the Moslems there is a regular exodus of them from the 'liberated' country. Four thousand have gone, four thousand five hundred are in process of going, and two to three thousand more are to go as soon as possible." The unfortunate tribes of Hoti and Gruda been handed over to Montenegro and devastated. It was reported that Prince Mirko was out of his mind, and Princess Natalie had definitely left him and claimed the children --Montenegro's only heirs. Meanwhile the Powers could not longer delay the election of a Prince for Albania. The combined efforts of France and Russia had whittled down Albania to nearly half her size, and had made a very cruel frontier, whereby all the populations of a wide mountain tract were cut off from their market town, Djakovo. The Dibra refugees were still camped in Albania, and the Prince hoped for as a Messiah still did not come. Prince Arthur of Connaught was the desire of the Albanians. "Give us even your King's youngest son," they said, "and we shall be safe. No one will dare attack us." Essad now insisted on being a member of the provisional government. All feared him. None wanted him. He started a government of his own at Durazzo. In February the British and German Commissioners went there. Sir Harry Lamb worked hard on Albania's behalf, and did all he could to establish her safely. "The Albanians," he once said to me, "are the only Balkan race which ever tells the truth." He and the German tried to persuade Essad to resign, but he refused, and as he had an armed force at his command, the Commission' thought it risky to press him. He undertook to meet the Commission later at Valona. Ismail Kemal asked the Commission to take over the government till a Prince should arrive, and resigned. Essad then was induced to resign by being promised he should be president of the delegation which was to meet the newly-elected Prince, of Wied. After months of squabbling the Powers in their united wisdom had chosen this man. Why, it is hard to see. The feelings of the Albanians were not considered. Even Sir Edward Grey said: "The primary thing was to preserve agreement between the Powers themselves." The infant state of Albania was to be flung to the wolves to save its elders. It was decided that Albania should be governed by a Prince elected by the Powers; that it should enjoy perpetual neutrality under the collective guarantee of the Powers, and that these six Powers should be represented in Albania by an International Commission, with one Albanian on it. Dutch officers were to train the gendarmerie. On paper it looked well. But France raised Albania's worst enemy, Krajevsky, from Vice-consul to International Commissioner. France was represented thus by a Levantine Slav. Italy, too, selected a Levantine, Aliotti, to carry out her schemes at Durazzo. Only England and Germany were acting honestly. Essad Pasha began to move soon. He demanded that the provisional government should be removed to Durazzo, where it would be in his power, and where he had two partners, the Montenegrin Gjurashkovitch and the Greek bishop. The International Commission chose Valona as its seat. Meanwhile Scutari was ruled by the International force separately. The Powers had thus given two international governments to Albania. One with plenty of force and very limited jurisdiction, and the other with wide jurisdiction and no force. And there was also the little provisional Albanian government. The Prince was an officer with a limited military mind, and without experience of the Near East. His one qualification for the post was that he was "the nephew of his aunt," Carmen Sylva of Roumania, and she pressed his candidature. The true reason for his unanimous selection was probably that the Powers who had planned Albania's destruction knew him to be a man of little ability, and therefore the more easily to be got rid of. France and Russia were combined to overthrow him, even while agreeing to his election. When Greece and Bulgaria were respectively liberated and put under a foreign Prince, he was given in each case sufficient military force to maintain order till a native army should be organized. In the case of Albania it was arranged that he should be provided with no armed force--otherwise he would be difficult to evict. The International forces in Scutari were to squat there and look on. Essad Pasha was the agent of the Italians, Serbs, and French, and intrigued, so soon as the Prince was appointed, to obtain power over him. He bargained to be one of those who went to invite the Prince to Albania, and, accompanied by a party of Albanians, many of them better men than himself, he went to Neu Wied. How he contrived to worm himself into the Prince's confidence is a mystery. But he did, and in a luckless moment for the Prince, induced him to make Durazzo his capital. There he would be completely in the hands of Essad. He was welcomed at Durazzo by rejoicing Albanians, who knew nothing of the sinister plots of the Powers. But his fate was already sealed. The tale of William of Wied is among the most sordid that the Powers have woven. Only an extremely able man could have forced his way through the mesh of intrigue which surrounded him. Already, in February, he had been warned in Austria to have no dealings with Essad. The "end soon began." A Prince having been appointed, the Powers notified the Greeks they must evacuate South Albania within the limits drawn by the Frontier Commission. Members of this Commission told of the amazing series of tricks by which Greek agents had tried to hoodwink them. Wherever the Greeks had a school they dragged out a cartload of little children bidden to sing or shout in Greek. They tried to steer the Commission away from places which knew no Greek, and in one place actually shut up the women in a house for they could speak nothing but Albanian. Greek soldiers, while pretending to tell people not to make a noise, threatened them with punishment if they did not shout for Greece. They even imported Greeks, and dumped them on the path of the Commission. And ordered people, under threat of flogging, to paint their houses blue and white--the Greek colours. But they overacted the part so badly that in many cases they succeeded only in disgusting the Commissioners. At Borova a number of school children were sent to play in front of the house where the Commission was, and ordered to speak Greek only. Signor Labia, the Italian commissioner, threw out a handful of coppers. In their rush to pick up the money the poor children forgot their orders, and disputed aloud in their mother tongue--Albanian, to the amusement of the Commission, which, disgusted by these tricks, drew a frontier which gave the Albanians less than they had hoped for, but very much more than the Greeks had intended. These hastened to make another grab at the land, and sent Zographos, formerly Greek Minister for Foreign Affairs, and a gang of Greek officials to South Albania to claim it as Greek, and appoint themselves as the "Provisional Government of Epirus." A Greek colonel was made War Minister to this so-called government, and a Greek member of Parliament, Karapanos, was its Minister for Foreign Affairs. An American called Duncan, who had a Greek wife and went about dressed mainly in bath towels, collected much money, incited the people to resist Wied, armed them, and urged them to a fratricidal war. The Greek Government denied all connection with this "provisional government," just as the Serb Government has always denied responsibility for and knowledge of the deeds of the Black Hand. At the command of the Powers the Greek regular army was obliged to evacuate the occupied districts. It departed from Koritza, but left a so-called hospital of wounded "not fit to be moved," and joined it to the Greek frontier by a telephone. Much of the army, however, remained in out-of-the-way spots, removing and concealing their insignia, so that the Greek Government might be able to deny that they were soldiers. Formally the Greeks handed over Koritza to the Dutch gendarmerie officers under the International Control, on March 1, 1914. Had the Powers meant honestly by Albania they would have sent a force to clear the land of the lurking Greek bands of soldiery. But in spite of several questions asked in the House of Commons, Cretan and Greek komitadjis continued to land at Santa Quaranta, the Greek Government persistently denying all knowledge. "There are none so blind as those that won't see." Such was the state of things when Prince zu Wied landed at Durazzo on March 7th. Had he at once made a journey throughout his domain, gone to Koritza via Berat and Elbasan, and claimed it as his, he might have triumphed. But it was Essad's business, as agent of Albania's enemies, to keep the Prince in Durazzo till the plans for his eviction were matured. The International Control Commissioners handed over their authority to the Prince, and he, to the general dismay of the Albanians, appointed Essad War Minister, thus putting the armaments into his hands. All this news seemed to me very bad. I was detained in London. My book on the war, The Struggle for Scutari, was finished, but my publisher was bent on keeping it for the autumn publishing season. I stood out for immediate publication in May. He said: "You know nothing about publishing." I said: "You do not know the state of the Near East. Anything may happen by October." I offered to risk having no payment at all for it. It came out in May, and the thing that happened before October (Yougourieff's date) was bigger than even the shouts of the Montenegrins in 1913 had led me to expect. Meanwhile the Greek "wounded" at Koritza telephoned for medical comforts, and the Greek Bishop sprang his plot. The "medicine" arrived in the form of armed bands and weapons. The Greek "wounded," the Bishop's servants, and a band of Grecophile students made an attack within the town on the night of April 11th, and the bands of lurking Greek soldiers attacked from without. Koritza was taken by surprise, was not well armed, and had but fifty newly trained gendarmes, commanded by the Dutch officers. Nevertheless the town put up a gallant resistance. Reinforcements arrived, and the Albanians "rushed" the house of the Bishop and carried him off a prisoner to Elbasan, along with a number of Greek soldiers, who readily gave their names and regiments, and told of the orders they had received. They had long been kept in readiness on the frontier. The Greek Government, as usual, declared the men must all be deserters, over which it had no control, which, at best, was a poor compliment to the Greek army, and did not explain how the "deserters" became possessed of artillery and ammunition. The Greeks, furious at being beaten out of Koritza, avenged themselves on their retreat by committing outrages and burning villages. The Albanians drove back the Greeks to Argyrokastro, and would have chased them over the border had not the Greek General Papoulias come to the aid of his compatriots with large reinforcements and artillery. The Greek Government still "knew nothing" about the actions of its officers. It is to be hoped that a future League of Nations will be in readiness to investigate at once similar occurrences, and that "ignorance" on the part of a government shall not be accepted as innocence without full inquiry. In this case the Albanians had no tribunal before which to present their case. The invading Greeks burnt and sacked numbers of villages, and destroyed the town of Leskoviki, committing at the same time terrible atrocities. The International Commissioners went to Corfu to meet the Greeks and arrange peace. The Greeks were told to evacuate the district delimited by the Frontier Commission, and certain privileges were accorded to the very few Greeks it contained. I learnt from Dr. Totirtoulis and others the following facts about the so-called "Epirote" government of Zographos. The plan was made in Paris, for, as Krajevsky had declaimed, France did not mean Albania to exist. The Greeks brought some Greeks from America and presented them to Cambon, and, it is believed, to Sir Edward Grey also, saying that they were "Epirotes." The Greek society in Paris was a strong one, and pushed them. Cambon, in November, advised them to form an independent government, which was done, as we have shown. Mr. Lamb (now Sir Harry) told me that at Corfu he told Zographos to his face that most of his "Epirotes" were Cretans, and that the mere fact that a Greek ex-minister of Foreign Affairs was running this "independent government" and trying to dictate terms, was enough in itself to "give the whole show away," but for the fact that certain Powers were determined not to see. The Albanians in the defence of their land had been much hampered by shortage of ammunition, though quantities had been sent from Durazzo. It never reached Koritza, for Essad, who was Minister of War, diverted if for his own purposes. He was in league with the Serbo-Greek combine, and did not mean the Albanians of the South to win. He was hated by all the South for his conduct when commanding gendarmerie in Janina, and also for betraying Scutari. He knew that a victory for the South meant ruin for him. A rumour rose soon that the ammunition had gone up to Essad's town, Tirana, and that there was unrest at Shiak, a village on the road leading there. Mr. Lamb and the German commissioner hastened to Durazzo. The foul play over the munitions convinced the Nationalist Albanians that Essad was brewing mischief. Unless he was preparing a coup against the Prince, he could have no need of a private munition store. Information was given to the Prince, who had him arrested by the Dutch gendarmes and a band of Nationalists on the night of May 18th. A few shots were fired amid shouts of "Down with the tyrant." He was arrested by the Dutch officer in command, and taken first to the palace, and then to the Austrian battleship Szigetvar. Essad was, as most folk knew, the agent of the combine against Austria and Germany. Italy was ready to partition Albania between the Greeks and Serbs, rather than let Austria gain power there. Now she has realized that the Slav is her enemy, but then, in May 1914, she was furious at Essad's arrest, and demanded his release. The correct course was to try and, if guilty, execute him. But trial would have meant conviction, and Italy would not hear of it. The Italian and Austrian battleships cleared for action, though the Powers had neutralized the Albanian coast. For twenty-four hours the position was precarious, but Austria once more swallowed her pride and yielded--this time to Italy. The Prince surrendered Essad to the Italians on condition that he did not return to Albania. With amazing effrontery the Italians took him to Rome and feted him in such a way as to make it clear they were rewarding him for his action. Italy's conduct as a member of the Triple Alliance was in the highest degree insulting to her allies, and can be explained only by supposing that for the sake of the Adriatic she was ready to stab them on the first opportunity. It was soon plain that the report of a prepared rising was true. Armed men were concentrating at Shiak on the road to Tirana. The ignorant Moslem inhabitants had been told that the Prince meant to abolish Islam and promote incestuous marriages, and bidden to demand his immediate withdrawal. There were also the mass of refugees from Dibra and Gostivar. They had passed the winter wretchedly enough, and were told that if they would combine and drive out Wied the Serbs would restore to them their lost lands. In vain the American missionaries warned them not to believe this. Dibra was their one hope and desire. A party of armed men, led by one of the Dutch officers, went to parley with the insurgents, and took a machine gun. Unluckily, Captain Saar was ignorant of local customs. He and his party were unduly nervous, for when an Albanian has given his "besa" (peace oath) he keeps it. Alarmed unnecessarily, he ordered his men to fire at a group of three armed men. One escaped, fled to Shiak, and spread the alarm that the Prince had begun to massacre Moslems. A number of people rushed to aid the Shiak men, and a fight took place. How much foreign influence was behind it all it is hard to say. That Italy was not unconcerned in it seems proved by the fact that the Italian representative at Durazzo at once hurried to convince the Prince that he was in imminent danger, and persuaded him to go on board an Italian battleship. The Italians may have believed that the plot, engineered by Essad, was sure of success. Other members of the International Control persuaded the Prince to return to land. But by his flight he had hopelessly compromised his position. That Italy was mixed in the affair appeared a little later. Red signal lights were seen flashing to the insurgents from a house in Durazzo by many persons, among them the British Vice-Consul. Lieutenant Fabius, of the Dutch gendai'merie, entered the house and caught an Italian officer, Colonel Muricchio, red-lamp-handed. Again no trial was allowed. It was pleaded that the Capitulations had not been abrogated! And the officer was released. We may blame Wied for incompetency, but only a man of unusual force of character and intimate knowledge of the land could have made headway against the Powers combined against him. All this I learnt from members of the International Control, from the Dutch officers, from the Albanians, from the American Missionaries, and from some private individuals. That the rising was planned and the ammunition embezzled by Essad and his gang hardly admits of doubt. On June 8, 1914, I reached Trieste. Here our vice-consul, M. Salvari, himself an Albanian, was very anxious about the situation. I had intended going to Scutari, but he begged me to go to Durazzo, where I arrived on June 11th. On board the boat I met Mr John Corbett, who had lately been in South Albania, and said it was nonsense of the Greeks to pretend no Greek troops had remained there as he had seen parties of them in many places, and had seen money being collected in Corfu to aid Zographos's enterprise. Durazzo was crammed with people of all races. Fighting had ceased, but a large force of armed men was some miles outside the town and negotiations were going on. Dr. Dillon, the well-known correspondent, was there, and his strong Russian proclivities caused much anxiety, more especially as he and his young wife had been staying with Essad shortly before his arrest. The Russian agents were suspected of taking active part in the anti-Wied intrigues, and the correspondent of the Birzhevije Viedomosti was in Durazzo and on friendly terms with Dr. Dillon. The Russian, Olghinsky, I had met in Andrijevitza in 1912, when the Montenegrins were making ready for the Balkan war. He then complained to me freely of the apathy of the Russians, and said he and his paper were doing all they could to rouse the country to war. His paper (Birzhevije Viedomosti) had already, in March 1914, blown the war trumpet loudly: "Until now the Russian plan of military operations had a defensive character; to-day it is known that the Russian army will, on the other hand, play an active part. . . . Our artillery possesses guns which are in no respect inferior to foreign models. Our coast and fortification guns are even superior to those of other states. Our artillery will no longer have to complain of want of ammunition. The teachings of the past have fallen on fruitful soil. Military automobile service has reached a high degree of perfection . . . all our military units have telephonic appliances." More details are given, and the writer says: "It is important that Russian public opinion be conscious that the country is prepared for all possibilities." Yougourieff had given October as the date when "we should be ready for our great war." The Birzhevije Viedomosti said all was ready in March. To find Dr. Dillon, an avowed partisan of Russia, in company with a correspondent of Birzhevije Viedomosti, supporting Essad in Durazzo, was a sinister omen. He protested Essad's innocence to me, but had no proof to offer save that Essad was in bed when arrested, and that no documentary evidence was found. The first proved only that the rising was not timed for that night. The second was valueless in a land where few could write and messages go from mouth to mouth. Subsequent events have proved that Essad, as we suspected, was a Serb agent. During the following days very bad news came from the South. Eye-witnesses gave evidence of the Greeks' atrocities. It was generally believed that as Italy was determined to keep the Greek islands, she was conniving at the Greeks finding compensation at Albania's expense. At the house of Dom Nikola Kaciorri, a plucky little Catholic priest, I found an Orthodox Albanian priest from Meljani, near Leskoviki, who told how the Greeks had burnt his village and ordered all those who belonged to the Orthodox Church to come along with them, using force to make them, and falling on those who refused. They had driven a number along before them, including his wife and children, whom he could not rescue. He told how the Greeks had given the inhabitants of Odrichan permission to return to it, and had then fallen on them and slaughtered them. Mr. Lamb ascertained that this man's wife and children were alive, but the Greeks refused to give them up. Almost as soon as I arrived I was invited to have an audience with the Princess of Wied. She was very friendly, and much distressed by the web of intrigue in which she found herself tied. I regretted that she and the Prince had fallen into the wrong hands, and begged her to go to Valona or Scutari, and at once start a tour through the land. I offered to go with her, and assured her safe conduct, saying all misunderstanding would have been avoided had she and the Prince made such a journey on arrival. She said she had wished to, but that Essad always advised against it. I spoke to her of the Russo-Serbo-French-Italian combine, and said the Albanians wanted none of it, and that she could yet have the whole country on her side But she continually quoted the advice of. Carmen Sylva, Queen of Roumania, till I had to say: "Yes, ma'am. But Albania is not Roumania. Here you will do much better by appealing direct to the people." I left promising to support her to the best of my ability. She struck me as honest, intelligent, and very well-meaning. She would have made a good Queen for the country had she been given a chance, and might have done as much for it as did Carmen Sylva for Roumania. That same day Mr. Lamb told me that the inhabitants of three Moslem villages, Nenati, Mercati, and Konispoli, recently burnt by the Greeks, had sent to beg help, and asked me if I would go and investigate. That night, June 12th, came a fresh development. The Dutch gendarmerie arrested Gjurashkovitch, the Montenegrin, who had still been allowed to function as Mayor of the town, to which he had been appointed in Turkish times. Again Albania's enemies stood up for him. His brother was dragoman to the Russian commissioner; Russia claimed him as under her protection, and raised the old cry of "Capitulations." He, too, was released. The thing was becoming a farce. The Prince was unable to try any suspect. The Italian papers raised choruses of blame against the Dutch gendarmerie, which at that time was very honestly trying to do its duty. The Prince, who was like a large, good-natured St. Bernard dog, yapped and snapped at all round, completely confused by the din, yielded each time, and so soon alienated the sympathy of the Dutch officers, who, as more than one of them complained to me, got into trouble on his behalf and then received no support. News arrived that Osman Bali, one of the two men reported to have assassinated Hussein Riza in Scutari, had been seen among the insurgents, and was probably this time also acting for Essad. The Italians put in a demand that Lieutenant Fabius, who had arrested the Italian Colonel Muricchio, should apologize. This Fabius very properly refused to do, and many of us supported him. I had known him during the Balkan war, and found him a very honest boy. Italy then demanded his dismissal. But this time the Prince stood firm. Fachinetti, the Italian correspondent, whom I had known well during the war of 1912-13, was also in Durazzo. In the Balkan war he had warmly taken the part of the Albanians, and had worked with me. Now he knew I should not approve his doings, and he kept out of my way, dodging whenever he saw me coming. Crajevsky, too, was not pleased to see me. He was now more pro-Slav even than the Russians, and as he had been more Turk than the Turks only two years before, he must have known that his volte face was, to me, rather comical. And he is the kind of man that does not like being thought funny. Colonel Thompson, who was commanding the Dutch gendarmes, met me and told me that he was going to =give an ultimatum to the insurgents in the next few days, and asked me to call at eleven next morning and talk the matter over with him. I never did. That night things seemed shaky. I overheard Fachinetti, whose room was next mine, tell the landlord to knock him up if anything happened. So I did very little undressing, thinking he was probably behind some plot. I put my boots handy, and laid down as I was, for a bit of sleep, and jumped up to the sound of rifle fire as the landlord banged on Fachinetti's door. Sharp firing sounded close. I dashed out so soon as I could lace my boots, and went down to the entrance of the town where Fabius was in great haste serving out ammunition from the depot there. He begged me not to go out towards the scene of the fight, as he suspected the Italians, and wanted to give an order that no foreigner should leave the town. Up rushed the Italians, greatly excited, and were headed back by Fabius. I told them I, too, was forbidden to go, and we sent them back. We got the artillery ammunition on donkeys and sent it up the hill. Dutch and Austrian officers were to serve the guns. A wounded Albanian, crying feebly "Rrnoft Mbreti" (Long live the King), was carried by on a stretcher, and one of the bearers whispered to Fabius: "Thompson is hit. I fear he is dead." To lose the commander in the first hour of the fight was a terrible blow. Fabius begged me to tell no one. Later, Arthur Moore, The Times correspondent, came and told how poor Thompson had been struck down and died almost immediately in his arms in a hut by the wayside. Too many battle books have been written of late, so I will not describe the fighting In the afternoon. I was under cover behind a bank on the top of the hill with Mr. Corbett when the Prince came up on horseback with a small suite. He dismounted and climbed the bank, a tall, lean man, worn and anxious, with a yellow-white face as from a touch of fever. We called to him he had better take cover as the bullets came over pretty often. He looked dazed and stupefied. I said: "A bullet has just cut down that plant, Sir!" pointing to one close by. He roused himself, mounted, and rode away. Our side soon got the upper hand, and all danger of the town being rushed seemed over. Meanwhile, within the town, the Italians did all they could to create a panic. They built rubbishy barricades, and annoyed me by making one across the street near the hotel door. I pulled it down so as to be able to get in and out easily. The officer was very angry. I explained that the town was not his to barricade, and if it were it was no good to build a barricade there, as men behind it could only fire into the house opposite. Which made him the more angry, because it was true, and the thing a mere dummy to scare people. So sure were the Italians that they were 'going to get the town taken this time that the correspondents wrote gory accounts of its capture and the slaughter of the inhabitants, and sent them to Italy, where they were published. I do not now believe in Italian correspondents every time. The Russians were as bad as the Italians. They, too, hoped for the fall of the town. The Russian secretary was a typical ultra-neurotic Slav. Could not exist, he told me, without operas, ballets, and "stir tout des Emotions." Was horribly vexed that the Albanian Nationalist party proved so strong, and that Albania had not yet been overthrown. In order to keep himself alive meanwhile in this miserable hole he tried to get people to play bridge with him for as high stakes as possible. And this did not suffice him. He told me that having run through all the sensations of life he thought of committing suicide. "Why don't you, then, Monsieur?" I asked enthusiastically. "No one will regret you. Suicide yourself, I beg you, quickly!" Which so infuriated him that I dare say he is alive still. It roused him to an attack on the English, who, he said, were ruining civilization by the way they treated the Jews. I retorted by hoping that the terrible accounts we had had of Jewish pogroms were exaggerated. "Exaggerated!" cried he. "You may believe everything you have heard. Nothing is bad enough or too bad for those brutes." "You have no right," said I, "to speak so of any human beings." "Human beings!" cried he. "What you English must learn is that they are not human beings. They are bugs, and must be cr-r-rushed." This is a mere detail. But what sort of peace can be expected when men such as this are in the diplomatic service helping to pull the strings? At night the heat was terrible. The motionless air was shrill with mosquitoes from the fever swamps. The Italian forces were camped just under my window and he stench of unwashed men and sweaty uniforms penetrated the miserable garret I slept in with suffocating acridity. I lay awake for hours thinking of the fate of thousands of human beings dependent on such men as Petar Karageorgevitch, with his blood-stained hands; his hoary father-in-law, Nikola, weaving spider webs; the decadent Russian, fanatical and cruel; the Levantine Slav, agent of France; the Italians like a pack in full cry with the victim in sight; the Greek Varatassi mainly playing bridge, but plotting behind the scenes with the Greek bishop, and probably with Essad too. All bent on war, and meaning to have it in some form. Only Mr. Lamb and the German commissioner were playing straight. On 16th H.M.S. Defence and Admiral Troubridge arrived. Fighting went on, on and off, for the next few days. The Russian correspondent chuckled indecently over the Albanian wounded. On the 20th a deputation of townsfolk went to try and make terms with the insurgents. From the messages they brought it was clear that the luckless Albanians without the town were being used as cat's paw by more than one Power. A truce was called, and the insurgents asked to give up their arms and leaders. They replied they would yield their arms, but not their leaders. Who the leaders were remained a mystery. While the armistice lasted at Durazzo the insurgents began to march to other places. No other town was armed. The people in vain asked what it was all about, and what the Powers wanted them to do. The Russian Vice-consul at Valona sent messages about to say that the Powers would be very angry if they fought on the side of Wied, The Albanians did not want to fight each other. Towns at once surrendered to the insurgents. The police changed their badges and business went on as usual. The populace did not want civil war, and continued to believe that the Powers would keep their promises. News then came that the Greeks were massing on the frontier ready to again fall on Koritza. The insurgents now sent a message into Durazzo that they wanted to parley with an Englishman. They believed in England. General Phillips came from Scutari and went to meet them. He reported that the leaders were certainly not Albanians, and that they had refused to give their names. One was a Greek priest. The game of the Greeks, then, was to incite the Moslems to ask for a Moslem ruler. With this in view they blackened Wied as an "anti-Moslem," hoping thus to split Albania and more easily destroy it. One of the chief spokesmen said to General Phillips: "In England there is a Liberal Government. Many of you do not like it, but you must accept it because it is the will of the majority. We are the majority here, and we will have a Moslem Prince." This man the General "believed to be a Young Turk leader disguised." He asked why they objected to Wied, and they replied: "Because he is against our religion!" which was entirely untrue. And they added that they could easily take Durazzo because they knew that the international battleships off the coast had orders not to fire. In the end General Phillips made a strong appeal to them to cease this foolish warfare and accept Wied as the choice of Europe. The Albanian crowd, he reported, appeared to agree and to be anxious to come to terms. But the five foreign leaders stuck out. And the ignorant crowd which believed that by following these leaders they would regain Dibra and other districts finally refused to come to terms. Mr. Lamb also made a vain attempt to obtain the names of these leaders, and they obstinately refused to come into Durazzo to discuss terms with the Commissioners and the Prince. Nor would they permit any delegates to come. The Mirdite and Maltsor reinforcements who arrived were all reluctant to fight. "We are not in blood with these people," they said, "Why should we fight them?" We had a number of the enemy wounded in our hospitals along with our own men. They were most grateful for the care bestowed upon "them, and bore no ill-will at all. It was sadly true that these poor people were being killed and wounded, offered as human sacrifices at the altar of the rival ambitions of the Entente and the Central Powers. The Breslau, since notorious, and a Russian warship now arrived. There were many Germans, both military and civilian, in the town, and the Germans and English worked together in the hospital. The surgeon, from the Russian warship, claimed the right to work in the English hospital as a member of the Entente. But as he proposed to give an anaesthetic to a man whose arm we had promised not to amputate, and then to take it off, we got rid of him in spite of his protests that a promise to "an animal like that" did not count. I took my meals very often with the Germans, and we discussed often the danger caused to Europe by the Anglo-Russian Alliance. I said that though I believed Russia was heading for war I was sure we should not support her, and we drank to a speedy Anglo-German alliance. They were disgusted with Wied's folly, and said the Kaiser had been reluctant to appoint him, but had been over-persuaded by Carmen Sylva. They took me on board the Breslau, where I was received with great cordiality, and the captain, who took me on to the bridge, said his ship for her size was one of the fastest. On Sunday, June 28th, I was having tea with Mr. and Mrs. Lamb, when we saw Admiral Troubridge climbing the hill towards us. He came into the house very hot, and said almost at once: "I have come to tell you our wireless has picked up a bit of a message. The Archduke Franz Ferdinand has been murdered at Serajevo. Just that!" My first idea was: "They have done what they said they would last year. They have begun in Bosnia." I said to Mr. Lamb: "This means war, doesn't it?" He replied: "Not necessarily." And seemed surprised. His manner reassured me. But unless very strong pressure were brought to bear, I could not see how war between the Slavs and Austria could be avoided, for "we the Russian army with us" was part of the programme. No official confirmation of the news came till next day. That the Serbo-Greek combine expected to have more than the Russian army to support it seemed shown by a remarkable letter the insurgent leaders wrote to Berat, advising the town to surrender, because "we are supported by the Triple Entente." Berat, however, refused to surrender. The insurgents sent a message to Durazzo that they were willing to be ruled by the International Commissioners if Wied were dismissed. Terrible rumours came as to what was happening at Koritza. A force of Albanians went to its defence, led by Dutch officers. Greeks were pouring in over the border. At the same time it was said that Essad was returning to Tirana via Serbia, and meant to proclaim himself as Prince. No one wanted him. On July 11th came a telegram from Berat. "With heart full of grief I send the bad news that Koritza, after two days' fight, has fallen into the hands of the enemy. More than fifty thousand people are coming away. Take measures for these unfortunates. The Greek army is spreading on all sides, killing, and burning, and turning into ashes every Albanian place it enters." The Albanians were aghast. The Nationalists had all trusted Wied and the Powers. Without artillery and short of ammunition, with no trained army and no officers save the Dutchmen, they had done their best. The "insurrection" had been engineered by Albania's enemies for the express purpose, among others, of giving a door by which the Greeks could enter. Not until the Greeks began the wholesale destruction of Moslems and their villages, accompanied by every kind of atrocity, did the luckless Moslems of Tirana realize how they had been tricked. On July 13th I went at Mr. Lamb's request to Valona to examine into the number and condition of the refugees. I have no space to describe the horrors of the next few weeks. The Dutch officers, who had flung away their uniforms and bolted down to Valona in civilian dress before the Greek onrush, gave terrible accounts of the mass of struggling refugees in their flight across the mountains; the dead and dying children en route; the aged falling by the wayside; the jam of desperate creatures in a pass; the hideous cruelties of the advancing Greeks. It had been impossible, said the Dutch officers, to hold Koritza with irregular troops against an army with artillery. The Greeks burned as they advanced, and burnt Tepelcni and all the villages near it. The refugees crawled into Valona in the last stages of exhaustion, thousands and thousands of them, and lay about under the trees in all the surrounding country. Food and shelter there was none. The heat was overwhelming. I look back on it as a nightmare of agony. In a century of repentance the Greeks cannot expiate the abominable crime of those weeks. Mr. Lamb telegraphed to appoint me as English representative on an international relief committee, which consisted of the Italian and Austrian Consuls, the Russian Vice-Consul, and some of the Albanian headmen. I proposed at our first meeting that we should report to our respective Governments that an international naval demonstration off Athens should be at once made to stop this scandalous state of things, and save the miserable victims of the Greeks. The Russian was indignant; the other two consuls looked at their boots, and said they would get into trouble if they did so; the Albanians were delighted. The Austrian, an old friend of mine, told me in private I was right, and only international intervention would have any effect. All Valona was Nationalist. Even the little children shouted: "Rrnoft Mbreti!" (Note.--The spelling Mpret was invented by The Times for reasons of its own.) The luckless refugees hoped that the Prince, as a sort of supernatural power, would arrive with an army, drive out the Greeks, and restore them to their homes. Numbers of Bektashi dervishes were among them, reverend white-robed men, who prayed me to send a special petition from them to King George, who has so many Moslem subjects. Their rich monasteries especially had been set on and pillaged by the andartis, and Greek fanaticism would, they said, wipe out Bektashism from the land. The place was a hell of misery. We dealt out maize flour and bread in tiny rations. It was all we could do. There were by now at least seventy thousand in and around Valona, 'more between Berat and Valona, and more always crawling in. One ray of hope came. On July 27th it was rumoured that Austria had declared war on Serbia. A sort of gasp =of relief ran through the starving, miserable refugees. A great Power, they hoped, was now coming to their Rescue. All were aware that they owed their misery to the Greco-Serb combine. All knew of the martyrs of Fostivar and of Kosovo. I shall never forget the inspired enthusiasm with which one of the headmen of Valona cried, as he raised his hands to heaven: "God is about to avenge the innocent! The Serbs will be punished for their crimes!" He was an Ipek man, and knew too well what those crimes were. A letter came to me from England from a man versed in military matters, suggesting a line of attack, and urging the Albanians to hasten at once to Kosovo and take the Serbs in the rear, should Austria attack in the front. No official news of any kind or sort came through. The Italian consul had no news, the Austrian none since the news that the Serajevo murderers had confessed that they and their bombs had come from Belgrade, and the latter had been supplied by a Serbian officer, and that the Belgrade papers approved the crime. To me it appeared that the affair was similar to the attempt on King Nikola in 1907. I said: "I suppose Russia is mixed up in this?" The Consul said: "Probably. We shall insist on a very complete investigation as to all the guilty parties." Meanwhile, it was daily clearer that the refugees could not remain in the terrible heat and fever-laden atmosphere of the Valona plains. They were doomed to die in that case. Small-pox as well as malaria had broken out. It was barely possible to feed the poor creatures, let alone give them quinine. One lump of bread per head per day was all we could manage. I laughed bitterly later on when I was called on to sympathize with Belgians who, after a short though uncomfortable journey, had arrived in England and were living like fighting cocks. At the last meeting of the Relief Committee we decided we must try and move them to higher land. The question was, where was the Greek army? Could any of the refugees return in safety to their burnt villages, or, at least, cut the corn that must now be ripe? The three consuls said it was impossible for them to spy the Greek position as, if caught, they would get into political trouble. Nor could Albanians be sent, for fear of starting fighting and bringing the Greeks down on Valona. I therefore volunteered to go myself, if provided with a guide to take me up to the limit held by the Albanians. Ernst Gorlitz, a very friendly youth, of whom I had seen a good deal, and who was acting as correspondent to the Deutsches Tages Zefamg, came at the last minute and asked if he might accompany me, and I gladly consented, as he would be another witness. We started early on July 31st. Neither of us had the least idea of what was going on outside. It was a terrible ride. All along the track were camps of miserable beings, who hailed us as angels come to save them. Poor young Gorlitz, who had never done refugee work, was almost broken down by it. He cried at intervals: "It is the work of Huns--Huns. We must expose the Greeks to all Europe." At Skozi we found an almost desperate Kaimmakam trying to cope with 7,000 refugees in most miserable condition. He warned us to be careful, as the Greeks were not far off, and were still burning villages. We promised to make a united appeal in Berlin and in London, and do all we could to rouse European indignation. Gfirlitz was so upset he could not sleep, and looked bad when we started at dawn next day. We reached the last Albanian outpost beyond Thembla, and there left our horses. Gorlitz and I then scrambled along the mountain till on the opposite side of a deep valley we could see clearly with his field-glasses the camp of the Greek outposts, their tents and the men in khaki uniforms. It was a regular camp with military tents, and completely refuted the Greek lie that "Epirote insurgents" and not Greek regulars were concerned. We had attained our object. All the mountain side was covered with black patches. The fields of the standing corn we had hoped to reap, the Greeks had burnt to ensure the starvation of the population. It was growing late. To advance further would mean we could not get back that night. We might also be arrested and detained too long to be able to act efficiently. We decided to return to Thembla, and next day make a forced ride to Valona. Starting about 5 a.m. we arrived tired and dirty at Balona rather after 8 p.m., and dismounted at my inn. Gorlitz said he would sup with me. Returning to the dining-room after a "wash and brush up," I found him collapsed with his head in his arms on the table. "What is the matter? Are you ill?" I asked anxiously. He looked up with horror on his face, and half-stunned. "Russia has mobilized, and we have mobilized, too. They have all gone!" he said. I was thunderstruck. All the Germans had left Valona. Possibly the steamboat service would cease. Gorlitz was in despair, as if he could not get away he might be reckoned a deserter. "And I shall never see my father again," he said. "He is on the Russian frontier. They will have killed him before I can get back." We went to the post office the first thing next morning, but as the boats from Trieste had stopped running, his remittance from his paper had not arrived, and never would arrive. The Austrian consul could advance no money, having barely enough for his own subjects. A Thessalian liner was due that night, and might be the last boat up. There was no time to lose, so I paid Gorlitz's fare and gave him enough to see him through. Neither of us having an idea of what was happening, I saw him off at the port, with best wishes for Germany's rapid victory over Russia and an Anglo-German alliance. "As for us," I assured him, "you may be certain we shall side with the assassins." He left. Mr. Moore, of The Times, passing Valona on his way to Salonika, dropped at the quay a hasty scribbled note for me. "Nothing but a miracle can now stop the biggest war in history. Clear out while you can, or you will be cut off, money and food. Please take this seriously." I took it to the Austrian consulate. The Italian was there. Neither had any news. If I left, I wanted to go to Austria. But unless a gunboat came for the consul that was not now possible. Neither of them had any idea England would be dragged in, and assured me I should be all right anywhere. I asked the Italian point-blank: "Are you going to war as Austria's ally?" He replied: "The Triple Alliance is a secret one. I do not know its terms. But I have my own ideas about them. My opinion is that we are not obliged to fight, and in that case we certainly shall not." A letter arrived from Mr. Lamb at Durazzo, asking me to find the kavas of the British Embassy at Constantinople, who, with his family, was among the refugees burnt out by the Greeks, and send them on to Constantinople! by the first possible boat. No mention of war or warning. Valona was in huge enthusiasm over the news that Belgrade was attacked. "Now the Serbs and Russians and Austrians will have their own affairs to attend to, and will leave us in peace!" they cried. August 4th, the fatal day, I spent hunting up the family of the kavas, and doing relief work. August 5th I went to the bank and found a sort of panic. Orders had come to close in two days. That meant no more cash for relief work or anything. I asked for all the gold he had, and the manager let me draw almost all the balance of my relief fund, which I distributed, and 30 pounds for myself. More he could not give. The Italian consul said an Italian coasting-boat would touch that night, and that as it was impossible for me to go to Austria I had better take the kavas' family to Brindisi and there tranship them, see the British consul, and learn what was happening. If things were all right, I could return and make fresh arrangements for the relief work. Without money it was useless to stay, as the whole of the mass of wretched sufferers would come to me for help, which I could not give. And at 10 p.m. I left for Brindisi. Shortly before the boat started an American came on board and shouted: "They've got news at the consulates that your people are in it, too." But I did not take it at all seriously. Only next day at the British consulate, after I had transhipped my proteges and been examined for small-pox by the doctor--for I was from an infected area--did I learn to my amazement that not only had Great Britain declared war, but to my shame and disgust had done so on the side of the Slav. After that I really did not care what happened. The cup of my humiliation was full. No more help could be got for the refugees. It was no use to go back. The difficulty was indeed to go anywhere. I wondered which flag would fly in Valona next time I saw it--the Austrian or the Italian. Had I had enough money I should have gone to the Pacific islands, or anywhere out of the dirty squabbles of Europe. As it was, the only thing to do was to clear out of Italy lest she should be drawn in by the Triple Alliance. A White Star liner chartered to take off British tourists, who were swarming down from the Tyrol and South Germany, took about a thousand of us from Genoa on August 13th. It was years since I had been with a large crowd of English. They seemed to me a strange race. To me the boat was the acme of comfort, and coolness, and cleanliness. But the bulk of my compatriots thought they were roughing it. I thought of the seventy thousand houseless creatures under the sun and the rain, starving on a daily bread dole--and these people wanted two or three courses for breakfast. None of them had seen war. None knew what a burnt village or a rotting corpse, or a living man with his abdomen shot through was like. None had the faintest idea of the thing that had happened. Many would have liked, I believe, to throw me overboard when I said that the war would last two years for certain, and how many more I did not know. When I told them that Russia would crumple like wet brown paper, they said I ought to be ashamed of myself. Nor when I added that I expected to live to see England fighting the Russians would they believe me. And I saw the steamer as typical of England. Masses and masses of blind people, wilfully blind, who had never even troubled to try and find out whither they were going, but filled with an overwhelming conceit. Some even genuinely believed the war would be nearly over by the time we reached Liverpool. I could not help hoping we should meet my friend the Breslau, just to bring them up against facts. "If these are the English" I used to say to myself, "what an hell of a mess there will be before this is finished." And the war lasted more than two years, and we have already fought the Russians. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE THE YEARS OF THE WAR THE first thing I did in London was to send back to King Petav the Order of St Sava he had bestowed upon me, with a letter telling him I had heard the attack upon Austria freely discussed the previous year, and that I considered him and his people guilty of the greatest crime in history. I will add here only a few notes on some of the events of the next few years which concerned the lands we have been considering. First, I ascertained that in Cetinje the Archduke's murder was accepted unhesitatingly as Serb work. None even suggested that any one else had been responsible, and it was thought rather a good way of showing patriotism. Montenegro desiring, like many greater Powers, to obtain territory, declared war and occupied the strip of land between the bay of Trieste and Antivari, which the Austrians evacuated almost at once. Prince Petar led the Montenegrin force, and to the pain and surprise of the Great Serbian party they found that such was the reputation of the Montenegrin army that a very large part of the Serb population fled along with the Austrians without waiting to be "liberated." Even the Orthodox priest of Spizza fled, and the lot of those who remained was not too happy. Being liberated by Montenegrins is a painful process. Montenegrin troops also crossed the Bosnian frontier, but did not get far, and failed to carry out their boast that they were going to Serajevo. When the great Russian retreat was taking place Montenegro began to waver. Without Russia it was believed that the war must collapse. Petar Plamenatz, though he had every belief in the British navy, had none in the army. Peace was expected to ensue shortly. Montenegro came to some arrangement with Austria, which enabled her to shift her troops and occupy Scutari in the summer of 1915. A detachment of the "Wounded Allies" society, which hastened to Montenegro, found "neither wounded nor allies," so some of its members reported. The mountain Albanians strongly resisted the Montenegrin advance, but Scutari had been disarmed by the International Control, and was easily taken. The Serbs also anticipated peace, and concentrated forces in such a position as also to be able to enter and occupy Albanian territory. In April 1915, as we learnt later, the Powers who had guaranteed Albania's independence, bought Italy's intervention by promising her Albania's best port, Valona, and by the same secret Treaty bound her over not to object should "France, Russia, and Great Britain desire to distribute among Montenegro, Serbia, and Greece the northern and southern portions of Albania." The Powers who rushed to war over the violation of the Belgian Treaty, thus themselves tore up their Treaty with Albania. Secrets usually leak out. Serbia got wind of the Treaty in a garbled form two months later, and believed that the whole coast down to and including Durazzo was promised to Italy. Therefore, when it was yet possible to win Bulgaria's support by giving her her "Alsace-Lorraine", Macedonia, the Serbs refused. "If," said Prince Alexander to my informant, "I am to lose land in the west, I will yield none in the east." Another evil result was, that as we had planned the destruction of North Albania, we could not call upon its help. In the autumn of 1915 I received a telegram from Sir Edward Grey suggesting that I and some others who knew the land should go to North Albania and recruit the tribesmen on our side. The frontier could thus have been held, and the Serbian debacle prevented in all probability. But to do this it was necessary to guarantee to the Albanians the independence of their land, and to this Russia and France, it would appear, refused consent. And the plan was dropped. The Serbs fled over the mountains, where the Albanians, who had suffered much at their hands two years previously, could have destroyed them, but trusting to the honour of England and the Allies they let them pass and even fed them. In Montenegro the news of Serbia's defeat caused no undue grief. One man's misfortune is another's luck. Montenegro might now become top-dog. I Was in Egypt when a Reuter telegram announced that the Austrians had taken the Lovtchen, occupied Cetinje, and appointed as Mayor "the Bulgarian Vuletitch." I guessed at once this was my old friend Vulco of the Grand Hotel. His son-in-law, Rizoff, who had had to leave Rome, where he was working a pro-German propaganda, was now Bulgarian Minister at Berlin. There was something truly Balkanic in the surrender of Cetinje, arranged by the Grand Hotel and his son-in law, which appealed to my sense of humour. I soon learnt my guess was true. The Fates willed that I should meet a Montenegrin official. Last time we met during the Balkan war I had vituperated him about the cutting off of noses. Now in a strange land we were old friends. "Tell me," said I, "what happened? The Austrians cannot really have taken the Lovtchen. One does not march troops up two thousand feet of rocks under guns, when one can walk in by the back door." Cheerfully he replied: "Gospodjitza, you have been up the Lovtchen yourself. It is not worth while lying to you. Frankly, we welcomed the Austrians, even with enthusiasm. A small detachment on the road had not been warned, and fired. Otherwise nothing occurred. Yes, Vuko is Mayor! All your old friends remain, Yanko Vukotitch, and all! Only the King and suite left. Mirko, as you know, remains." Here he burst out laughing. "He is tuberculous, you know, and will go to Vienna to consult a doctor! The King told Petar to remain, too, but it bored him, and he came away afterwards. Mon Dieu, but the King was angry with him. You know our Montenegrins. They are funny dogs. When those at Antivari heard that the Austrians had arrived in Cetinje, they pillaged the palace of Prince Danilo. But before the house of the Austrian consul they put a guard. A good fellow this consul, is he not? For me this war is the struggle of the Slav and the Teuton for the only unexploited lands in Europe. We always knew it would come. But in the past we have never reckoned that England will range herself with Russia and permit her to take Constantinople. That would mean the end of Roumania, of Bulgaria, of Serbia, of us, and of you, too, Gospodjitza, if you are not careful. Therefore we ranged ourselves with Austria. Those who have travelled in Austria know that the Slavs there are richer, better educated, and better off in every way than we poor devils of Serbia and Montenegro. In return for the taxes they pay they get roads, schools--what you will. Our taxes all run out of the breeches pockets of those Two Families (Petrovitch and Karageorgevitch). The war is not ended, but I can tell you those Two Families will go and never return. Our King is in France. If the French want a king, they may keep him!" "And who is responsible for killing the Archduke?" "Who knows? It was done certainly by some of those mad students of Belgrade. You remember how they tried to kill King Nikola? Well! The Serbs wanted war. Now they have got it let us hope they are content. Politics, as you know, are all cochonnerie. As for me, I have had enough, and I wash my hands of them." His account squares with others. The Greek Minister in Cetinje, who, as a neutral remained there, related that not long after King Nikola left Montenegro a telegram from Vienna arrived inviting him to stay. Prince Danilo was already abroad when the crisis arose. Serbia as well as Montenegro made an attempt to come to terms with Austria in 1915, it would appear, from an unsigned convention, a copy of which has been lately reported to have been found in the archives at Vienna. It would account for the fact that in spite of the advice of more than one English authority, they persisted in making no preparation for the further defence of their country, and disposed their troops only for an advance into Albania. Thus tragically ended poor King Nikola's life's ambition and his golden dream. Mirko, whom he would fain have seen on the throne of Serbia, died in Austria in 1918. The records of Danilo and Petar are such that they are not likely to succeed their father. Prince Danilo in vain refused the spiritual headship of the land. No Petrovitch seems destined to be followed by his son, though their dynasty is the older, and their hands are not so stained with murder as those of the rival dynasty. Nikola is not wholly blameworthy. Powers stronger and more crafty than he, planned Great Serbia and ruthlessly ruled him out of it. No reinforcements came to him; no troops to help him hold the Lovtchen. Russia was once his god--and she forsook him. The Montenegrin opinion of the Serajevo murders is corroborated by several facts. The Serb students refuged in London had post cards printed of the murderer Princip, on which he was described as a national hero! One said to me: "Yes, it is a pity so many people were killed. But you see the plan quite succeeded, and Great Serbia has been made." He seemed to think it the object of the war. Another told a friend of mine that bombthrowing had been taught at Shabatz, and a Serbian officer boasted to Lady Boyle, when she was doing Serbian relief work, that he was one of the men who taught the murderers to shoot. He took their photographs from his pocket, and called on her to admire how well he had taught them. The bombs used, like those prepared for King Nikola, came from Kraguyevatz. The assassins told in great detail at their trial that they had been supplied with weapons, and taught to use them, by a Serbian railway employe, Ciganovitch, and by Major Tankositch the komitadji trainer He was a well-known komitadji himself, and a member of the Narodna Odbrana and of the Black Hand. And he was in constant touch with the Belgrade students at the Zelenom Vjencu eating-house. A Serb student, who himself had frequented this place, told me that Princip was chosen because he was so far advanced in tuberculosis he could not live long in any case. He saw him just before he left for Serajevo, looking very ill indeed. He described that when the news of the murders arrived three hundred Bosnian students rushed through Belgrade shouting and singing, and led by a Montenegrin playing the gusle. "But did not the police stop them?" I asked. "No, why should they?" "And were no arrests then made?" "Oh, no." This corroborates the official letter of Chevalier von Storck of the Austrian Legation in Belgrade, who wrote (see the Austrian Red Book) on June 30th to Vienna: "I have addressed to M. Gruitch, secretary to the Minister of Foreign Affairs, the question appropriate to the moment, to enquire what measures the police have already taken, or intend to take, to follow up the traces of the crime which are notoriously spread through Serbia. He replies that up till now the police have not occupied themselves with the affair." The consummate impudence of which remark needs no comment. The planners of the crime had indeed Intended to bury their traces, as they supplied the wretched boys each with a tube of cyanide of potassium, which he was to take immediately after doing the deed. An Instruction they did not follow. The attitude of the Serb Government was precisely the same as that it adopted in 1907 with regard to the Cetinje affair. It "knew nothing," and made no inquiry. Nor, during the whole three weeks that elapsed before the ultimatum, did the Serb Government do anything to clear up the matter and mitigate Austria's just anger. One can only deduce that war was expected and intended. The military party was in the ascendant, and did as it chose. There was great tension between it and the Government, and already before the murders Prince Alexander had been selected to replace his father as Regent. "In order," according to Bogitchevitch, "to postpone the inevitable conflict (between the two parties) and that responsibility for present events should be evaded, and in order perhaps that he might not have to assume responsibility for future events, King Petar retired from government and entrusted the Regency to the Crown Prince." He adds: "Can any one who knows Serb conditions, even partially, believe that the Government knew nothing of the conspiratory activities of certain circles of officers and komitadjis in Bosnia, and that it knew nothing of the preparatory measures in Serbia for the attentat on the Austrian royal couple?" The Government, he adds, carried its nonchalance to "such an extent that Pashitch did not remain in Belgrade, and the Austrian ultimatum had to be handed to the Minister of Finance, who temporarily replaced him." Documents obtained by Mr. Bottomley from the Serbian legation in London show that its members were aware of the plot. Time, the revealer of all secrets, will one day unveil the whole of this one. Meanwhile, I am glad that the Order of St. Sava is not in my house. Time will show, too, whether the Serb is to be top-dog in Jugoslavia, or whether, after all these oceans of blood that have been spilt and the untold misery, we shall arrive at an arrangement which could have been obtained by patience and Trialism. The Teuton for the time is broken, and the Slav is loosed. Whether for better or worse time again will show. It remains to consider Albania. When I left it in 1914 folk said: "Now that the Powers are busy fighting each other they will leave us free to manage our own affairs." The International forces left almost at once. The Defence left Durazzo before war was declared. The Prince of Wied left on September 3rd. And the former insurgents wrote and begged him to return. Essad Pasha then arrived at Durazzo, and was publicly embraced by Alliotti the Italian. Most of the International Commission left. Krajevsky remained, and with the aid of French money tried to establish Essad as Prince in vain. Essad, however, levied custom dues, and with that and the French money was wealthy, and withdrew to Salonika, where he tried to pose as an exiled monarch, but failed to raise an Albanian army. He never dared return to Albania but lived in luxury in Paris on his ill-gotten wealth till he was assassinated on June 15th by an Albanian student. On December 25th the Italians landed suddenly at Valona under pretence of protecting it from the Greeks. All now made ready to tear Albania to pieces, in spite of the International guarantee. The Montenegrins seized Scutari in 1915. The Serbs hurried to take Durazzo. But then came the Austrian attack. Caught in a bad position, the Serbs had had to fly to Scutari with the Austrians after them. In consequence the Allies evacuated Scutari, and left the Albanians to their fate. Had the Allies resolutely forbidden the Montenegrins to seize Scutari in 1915, and enlisted the Albanian tribesmen, guaranteeing their independence and the restoration of at least a portion of their lost land, the Serbian debacle might have been saved, and the results been very different. Such a plan was proposed by the Foreign Office, and I and some others asked to enlist the men. But Russia and, I believe, France vetoed it. Consequently the Bulgars and Austrians took and held most of north and central Albania till the armistice. In the south King Constantine's troops seized Albania and used it as a line of communication with the Austrian army till the Italians pressed down from Valeria to evict them, and the French advanced from Salonika to Koritza, which they found guarded by armed Albanians. These gladly admitted the French on condition the whole district was recognized as Albanian. The French Government agreed, and on December 11, 1916, Colonel Descouins proclaimed the Koritza district an Albani Republic, and hoisted the Albanian flag amid great popular rejoicing. A government was speedily organized, and a great number of Albanian schools opened, and filled, throughout the new Republic, which included two hundred thousand souls, and flourished till Greece joined the Allies. Trouble then began, as the Greeks demanded Koritza as part of their price for "coming in." And to placate Greece, Greek schools, which had been closed, were re-opened. The dismay of Albania, who had trusted in the promises of the French, was great. But hope rose strongly when President Wilson proclaimed to the world his gospel of self-determination and the rights of small nations. Seldom has a politician inspired greater hope and belief. All secret treaties, it was believed, would be laid aside, and a Peace of the peoples would result. Nor was it till the eve of the Peace Conference, when France showed her enmity by trying to prevent the representation of Albania in Paris, that the Albanians took alarm. An Albanian delegation was at last accepted, only to be told that the Secret Treaty of 1915 held good, and the Powers that prated of justice and the inviolability of Treaties now desired to partition Albania among her worst foes. Against this Albania appealed, and is appealing, and her fate is yet in the balance. French, Italian, and Serb troops have occupied the land ever since the Armistice. Every possible obstacle has been thrown in Albania's way by those who wish her destruction. The Albanians have elected, last January, a Government of their own, and the Powers have refused to recognize it. The British Government, in order to stifle Albania's cries, have withdrawn both the British representatives from Albania, General Phillips and Mr. Morton Eden. Both are friends of Albania's independence, and General Phillips reported that the Albanian Government was working remarkably well. Albania now has no means of communicating with the outer world, save through those who wish her destruction--Greece, Italy and Jugoslavia. All three are working to overthrow the Albanian Government. At the moment of going to press the Serbs have made a wanton attack on North Albania from three points. But they will not kill the spirit of the Albanian people, who have resisted denationalization for a thousand years, and who beg only for the right to take their place in the Balkans and live in freedom and harmony with their neighbours, and who now at the time of going to press are fighting bravely for Liberty. I will not write Finis, for the tale of the Balkan tangle does not end here. INDEX Abdul Hamid; abdicates Aehrenthal (Baron von) Albania Albanians Albanian language Alexander (King of Serbia); murder of Alexander (Crown Prince) Ambassadors' Conference America Andriyevitza Anglo-Russian agreement Antivari Austria; in Bosnia; in Albania; Austrian attache. Balkan Alliance Balkan war Balkan railways Beaconsfield (Lord) Belgrade Berlin (Treaty of) Black Hand Bocche di Cattaro Bogitchevitch Bogumils Bosnia; annexation of Bulgaria. Carnegie report Catholics Cetinje Constantinople Constantinovitch Constitution (in Montenegro); (in Turkey) Croatia. Dalmatia Danilo (Vladika) Danilo I (of Montenegro) Danilo (Crown Prince) Djakovo Draga (Queen); murder of Dulcigno Durazzo Dushan Gregovitch Dutch officers. Earl's Court Edward VII Egypt Elbasan England Essad Pasha. Ferdinand (of Bulgaria) Fimilian (Bishop) Fitzmaurice (Lord) France Franz Ferdinand (Archduke); murder of Franz Josef (Kaiser). George (Prince of Serbia) Germany Ghilca (Albert) Gjurashkovitch Gladstone Goluchowski Great Serbian Idea Greece Greeks; in Albania Grey (Sir Edward) Gusinje. Hartwig Herzegovina. International Commission Ipek Ismail Kemal Italy Izvolsky. Jannisariea Japan. Karageorge Karageorgevitch Koritza Kosovo Kragujevatz Krajevsky Kruyff (Baron de). Ljuma Lobatcheff. Macedonia Manicheism Marusitch Milosh (Ofrenovitch) Miouschlcovitch (Lazar) Mirdites Mirko (Grand Voyvoda) Mirko (Prince) Montenegro; tribes of; eighteenth century; history of Moslems; in Bosnia Mrasteg. Nastitch Nikola (King of Montenegro); accession of; reign; made King. Obrenovitch Ochrida Orthodox Church; in Bosnia; atrocities of. Pashitch (Nikola) Petar I (of Montenegro) Petar II (of Montenegro) Petar Karageorgevitch (King); accession Petar (Prince of Montenegro) Peter (The Great) Petrovitches Plamenatz (Petar) Plamenatz (Vladika) Plot (against King Nikola) Prenk, Bib Doda Prizren Prochashka. Radonitch (Gubernator) Radovitch Ragusa Rizoff Romans Russia Russian Consuls. Salonika Sanjalc (of Novibazar) Scutari Serajevo Serbia Serbs Skenderbeg Slavs (invasions); conversion of; v. Teutons Slovenski Jug Sofia Sofia Petrovna Stefan Dushan Stefan Mali. Tomanovitch Triple Alliance Tripoli Tuberculosis Turks. Uskub Uvatz. Valona Venice Vesnitcli Vienna Vlachs Vladan Georgevitch Vladikas (of Montenegro) Vuchidol Vuletitch (Voko). Wied (Prince of). Yanko Vukotitch Yougourieff Young Turks. Zographos Zorka (Princess). The End. 
46235	----	THE PASSING OF THE TURKISH EMPIRE IN EUROPE [Illustration: SERAGLIO POINT The entrance to the Golden Horn with foreign warships: a white-painted Dutch man-of-war, the Gelderland; the French cruiser, Léon Gambetta; H.M.S. Weymouth; and an Austrian battleship. In the distance the Tower of Galata.] THE PASSING OF THE TURKISH EMPIRE IN EUROPE BY CAPTAIN B. GRANVILLE BAKER LATE OF H.M. 21ST HUSSARS AND THE 9TH ROYAL PRUSSIAN HUSSARS AUTHOR OF "THE WALLS OF CONSTANTINOPLE," "THE DANUBE WITH PEN AND PENCIL," "A WINTER HOLIDAY IN PORTUGAL," &c. WITH 33 ILLUSTRATIONS & A MAP LONDON SEELEY, SERVICE & CO. LIMITED 38 GREAT RUSSELL STREET 1913 _NEW & RECENT BOOKS_ =The Land of the New Guinea Pygmies.= An Account of the British Expedition despatched to Dutch New Guinea for the purpose of Exploration and Zoological Research. By Captain C.G. RAWLING, C.I.E., F.R.G.S., Somerset Light Infantry, Author of "The Great Plateau," &c. With 48 Illustrations & Map. 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Extra crown 8vo, 6s. net. =Among Congo Cannibals.= Experiences, Impressions and Adventures during a Thirty Years' Sojourn amongst the Boloki and other Congo Tribes, with a Description of their Curious Habits, Customs, Religion, & Laws. By JOHN H. WEEKS, Correspondent to the Royal Anthropological Institute, Author of "Congo Life and Folk-Lore," &c. &c. With 54 Illus. & Map. Demy 8vo, 16s. net. _Second Edition._ =The Tailed Head-Hunters of Nigeria= An Account of an Official's 7 Years' Experiences in the Northern Nigerian Pagan Belt, & some Description of the Manners, Habits & Customs of the Native Tribes. By Major A. J. N. TREMEARNE, B.A. (Cantab.), F.R.G.S., F.R.A.I. With 38 Illus. & Map. Demy 8vo, 16s. net. "Brilliant.... Written by a scholar who knows how to handle a magic pen."--_Standard_ SEELEY, SERVICE & CO. LTD. CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION 9 CHAPTER I 17 CHAPTER II 29 CHAPTER III 46 CHAPTER IV 60 CHAPTER V 78 CHAPTER VI 94 CHAPTER VII 110 CHAPTER VIII 124 CHAPTER IX 141 CHAPTER X 155 CHAPTER XI 168 CHAPTER XII 186 CHAPTER XIII 203 CHAPTER XIV 215 CHAPTER XV 233 CHAPTER XVI 259 CHAPTER XVII 277 CHAPTER XVIII 294 CHAPTER XIX 318 INDEX 329 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Seraglio Point _Frontispiece_ PAGE Map 16 Anatoli Kavak 43 Refugees 47 By the Seraglio Walls 61 Roumeli Hissar 64 A Deserted Street 69 The Mosque of St. Sophia 75 The Aqueduct of Valens 81 On the way to the Phanar 87 His Holiness Joachim III 90 The Mosque of Suleiman 99 A Disused Monastery 107 The Walls of Theodosius 117 The Sea-walls of Constantinople 120 The Burnt Column 125 A Byzantine Palace 130 The Lines of Chatalja 138 The Mosque of Mohammed 150 The Mosque of Eyub 164 The Gate of Adrianople 187 The Mosque of Suleiman and the Tower of the War Office 200 The Dardanelles 208 Semendria 208 Constantinople 222 At the Phanar 253 Funeral of an Armenian Archbishop 256 The Coast of Greece 260 Anatoli Hissar 274 Tenedos 290 Golubaç 299 Dedo 'Mitri 303 Radoïl 309 The Fountain at Radoïl 325 INTRODUCTION Towards the end of a dismal summer, when everybody who is anybody in the United Kingdom was departing for their annual holidays, dark clouds began to gather on the political horizon overshadowing that European storm-centre, the Balkan Peninsula. Angry clouds had gathered over the seething races of those lands so frequently that no one heeded when the cry "Wolf!" went up again. "Balkan troubles again," said those who thought they knew, and they turned with renewed interest to places for the holidays. But the clouds gathered apace, and ere Europe was fully alive to the situation, protests, ultimata, and the usual amenities had been exchanged; the world found itself confronted by a war between the Ottoman Empire and its former subjects, now clearly defined nationalities, united to one purpose, and that the end of Turkish rule in Europe. While the Great Powers slowly set in motion the cumbrous machinery of diplomacy the storm-clouds discharged their lightnings, setting ablaze all the country from the Danube to the Ægean Sea, from the Adriatic to the Black Sea. Over the borders of Turkey in Europe came hosts of armed men, ably led, well trained, and purposeful. They came down the Valley of the Maritza, the Struma, down from the Black Mountains, and out of Greece in the south, nations in arms, and determined to end oppression in Turkey's European possessions. With desperate valour they beat down fierce resistance until but a small shred was left of the Empire carved by the sword of Othman out of South-Eastern Europe. History was in the making while diplomacy still talked about the _status quo_, and to my mind present events, if not an actual repetition of former historic happenings, bear at least some resemblance to them. Again an enemy's angry gaze is directed towards Constantinople, again, as the early days of the ninth century into modern times, the Ruler in the seat of Constantine prepares to meet invasion. And beneath the surface of the troubled waters is there is the feeling of a heavy ground-swell. The Goths came down the Valley of the Maritza and met the Roman legions at Adrianople; the latter were defeated, Emperor Valens left among the slain. Yet those Goths were only the fringe of that great movement which broke the power of Rome. In those remote days of the "Völkerwanderung" Central Europe seethed with strong young nations bent on expansion forced by their growing numbers. Slav pressed on Teuton, and both races overflowed the boundaries set them by the Cæsars. Are matters very different now? Perhaps the only difference is that the desire to expand, subconscious in early days of Christianity, is now informed of consciousness, is born of clearly defined necessities, and directed towards definite aims. The main line of advance since the first Aryans crossed the Balkans, swarmed over the Peloponese, peopled the islands of the Ægean Sea, and found their way to India has always been to southward, towards warm water; their movements to the north and west might be considered as purporting to guard their flanks, had they been conscious of strategic necessities. The main line of advance of those thronged peoples between the Ural and the Vosges Mountains is from the Baltic to the Balkans, and Teuton and Slav are pressing slowly, surely southward, as rivals, for they are keenly conscious of their own and each other's aims. Even now this movement is scarcely realized by the States of Western Europe, notably Great Britain, though its tendency has been clearly defined for many years, and on the Teuton side, a half-Slav people, Prussia gave it impetus. The movement has been so slow as to pass unobserved for many years, but it has been deliberate, because racial impulses have been curbed by the arts of diplomacy, by the science of strategy, and by a keen realization of economic necessities. Each of these three factors has its victories to record, acts which to most people seemed but loose links in the chain of history rather than the firm steps towards the goal, distant but clearly seen by those who led the movement. The science of strategy brought Schleswig-Holstein into the German Union, welded the German States together, and extended their line of outposts to the Vosges Mountains. Diplomacy, following victory in the field, made of the German States an Empire, reconciled Austria, and forced Italy into the Triple Alliance. Diplomacy again brought Heligoland as an outpost in the sea to Germany, and political economy is endeavouring to bring Holland into the German Zollverein. Thus we find the right flank of the Teuton movement from the Baltic to the Balkans fully secured. Neither has the left flank been neglected; wedged in between the Balkan Kingdoms and Russia is Roumania. A Hohenzollern sits on the throne of that country, and all who know Roumania will realize that Austria is paramount there. In both Servia and Bulgaria _la Haute Finance_ is in Austrian hands, and German commercial enterprise has extended feelers into Asia Minor. On the Slav side of this great movement Russia looms, apparently slow to move; but the Slav temperament may be roused to dangerous frenzy, and signs are not wanting that the troubles of their southern kinsmen may cause a popular upheaval, forcing the Government into action. Meanwhile Russia is deliberately organizing her vast resources. Does it not seem as if the struggle between the Balkan Kingdoms and the Porte were but the prelude, but a vanguard action, to clear the Turk out of Europe, and so make room for the titanic conflict impending between the Slav and Teuton peoples? When they meet, what then? Consider the enormous highly organized strength available among the possible combatants--Germany's millions, Austria's vast resources! Are those who live on the flanks of the impending movement prepared to hold their own? Outside the ring surrounding Slavs and Teutons, Denmark, Holland, Belgium, France, Italy are the confines of a vast Empire. When last the Teuton nations moved so many centuries ago a world-wide Empire fell in ruins, an Empire glutted with wealth yet teeming with a pauper population in its capital, luxurious, unnerved, disdaining any service to their country, unconscious of any obligations in return for the privileges of citizenship. So Rome fell before the Teuton. Again the Teuton is stirring. Germany is daily perfecting an already formidable navy, for flank defence first, then for further enterprise; Austria has recently greatly added to the budget for naval and military purposes, and the road to Saloniki is no longer closed by Turkey; Italy with her considerable naval power is allied to Germany and Austria. What is Great Britain, the vast Empire encircling the moving forces from west to east, doing towards her own safety? When the nations of Europe were well aware of the trouble which has now reached its climax in the Balkan Peninsula, and were beginning to take at least diplomatic action, Great Britain was having holidays and could not be disturbed. So our naval force in the Mediterranean has been weakened to guard against the German's left flank protection and the coast of Egypt is left insufficiently protected. While the Balkan Kingdoms were mobilizing the armies which have since swept triumphant over Thrace, Macedonia, Thessaly, armies composed of the whole manhood of each nation, not of hired soldiers, Great Britain was collecting troops for Cambridgeshire manoeuvres, with much self-laudation, and the assistance of the Territorial force, got together a number about equal to Montenegro's first levy for the war with Turkey; and Montenegro is about half the size of Wales and sparsely populated. Servia, a country hitherto denied a voice in the great Committee of European States, at once mobilized troops exceeding in number the expeditionary force with which Great Britain proposes to take part in an armed conflict of the Great Powers, and moreover that small kingdom proved itself capable of even greater effort and produced as many fighting men as Moltke required to vanquish France. The Allies acted sharply and decisively. Seven weeks after the declaration of war the Sultan's troops were forced to retire behind the lines of Chatalja, the outer defences of Constantinople. Constantinople was the seat of Cæsar from the middle of the fourth century until Mohammed the Conqueror made it the capital of his Empire in 1453. From here Ottoman armies marched to victory; Bulgars, Greeks, Serbs were conquered, enslaved, their national identity swamped by the rising tide of Moslems as it flowed on over the plains of Hungary even up to the bastions of Vienna, that bulwark of the Western world. From Stamboul, where I write, successive Sultans directed the policy of Turkey as their power waned. Here plans were devised, intrigues inaugurated to check the forces that threatened Ottoman supremacy. Here the Sultan in his palace heard of fresh troubles in his Empire, of defeats on the field of battle and in the council chamber. Here between the deep calm of the Orient and the restless striving of the West successive wearers of the sword of Othman must have marked the signs of the times and wondered how disaster might be averted. But disaster came, a swift retribution for years of indolence. As I write this the sound of firing is borne on the westerly wind into the City of Constantine, Tsarigrad, Stamboul. I was mightily drawn to revisit this ancient city now in these days of darkness, so I hurried out overland, crossing Germany, Poland, Roumania, till I landed on the banks of the Golden Horn. When I had passed I noted a feeling of deep anxiety, to account for which the present troubles of Turkey are insufficient; there seemed to me an undercurrent of unrest such as perchance preceded the "Völkerwanderung" of some fifteen centuries ago. I came here to record as best I can the doings of these days in Constantinople, the capital of a vanishing Empire, and while I went about the city, revisiting places I have seen bathed in summer sunshine, now gloomy under a lowering sky, as I noted the many signs of "Sturm und Drang," I was filled with grave forebodings; here where a mighty Empire is tottering to its fall under pressure of the vanguard of a "Völkerwanderung" I pondered whether another world-wide Empire were as secure as that of the Ottoman was till recently supposed to be. B. G. B. CONSTANTINOPLE [Illustration: Map of Turkey] The Passing of the Turkish Empire in Europe CHAPTER I The high road to the East--Roumania and the Carpathian Mountains--Thracians and Dacians, and how the latter had dealings with Emperor Trajan--The Roumanians, their origin, story, and present condition--The "Tsigani"--Tales of Hunyadi Janos, Knjes Lazar, Michael the Brave, and others--The story of Ghika the cats'-meat man--Roumania and the Balkan conflict--A morning in the Carpathian forests--Bucharest--The Roumanian Army. It was with strangely mingled feelings that I left London one Saturday evening, left the capital of one great Empire supposed to rest on firm foundations, considered strong in the council of nations, to visit the heart of yet another Empire once considered mighty and of weighty influence in Europe, now tottering to its fall with alarming rapidity, under the staggering blows of four small peoples, young and purposeful, unspoilt by wealth and power. The lights of Dover gleamed steadily in a black sky, the dark waters gave back broken reflections from a brilliantly lit liner making her stately way down Channel, as the throbbing turbines carried our little ship towards the East. A grey morning rose over the Dutch landscape, shrouded trees reflected heavily in the sullen waters of dykes and canals. A grey sky hung heavily over the teeming life of industrial Westphalia, and broke into heavy drops of rain over the wide plains of Hanover, and poured in torrents into the well-lit streets of Berlin, the "Ville Lumière" of Europe since Paris relinquished the splendour of an Imperial Court. From Berlin my road turned to south-east, past prosperous cities such as Frankfort-on-the-Oder, Breslau, towards that corner of Europe where three Empires meet on what was once part of the picturesque Kingdom of Poland, long since forced into the realm of things forgotten by those three Powers that meet here. It is a gloomy country, black and ungainly in its tense industrial existence. As it were, subconsciously, I felt like one hurrying to the death-bed of a friend; strange, for I have no reason to consider the Turk my friend. Indeed, though I like the individual Turks I have met, I cannot summon up a really friendly feeling for a Power which has deliberately mis-governed its varied subjects, has times out of number countenanced, even encouraged, acts the remembrance of which makes the heart sick. Yet in spite of reasoning, that feeling of hurrying to the death-bed of a friend never left me, but it had in it something of the antagonism which, as psychologists declare, is an ingredient of the love of a man for a woman. No doubt pity was mingled with this feeling, pity for a mighty race of conquerors now humbled to the dust, however much those ruling them be to blame; again there was anxiety as to the fate of the beautiful city, the City of Constantine, my destination; fear, a nameless fear, filled me, the son of a great Empire, as I thought over the fate of another Empire found unprepared to uphold a position it insisted upon, and therefore rudely awakened and thrust aside by young, strong nations whose sons know not how to shirk responsibility, neither do the men and women of those peoples shun any sacrifice to gain what they whole-heartedly desire. This strange feeling that obsessed me became stronger as I left well-ordered Germany behind, and felt the subtle influence of the East on entering Austrian territory. In the first place the traveller's comfort is affected, for German orderliness makes way to Austrian _laisser-aller_, resulting in a want of cleanliness in the railway carriages. Apologists say that this state is due to the many Polish Jews who freely use their cheap season tickets; this might account for the dirty condition of third-class carriages when packed with worthies in greasy gaberdines, with ringlets dangling down from either temple; it is no pleasure to pass through a third-class carriage on your way to the dining-car. However well this excuse may serve, I found no attempted cleanliness in any other class while travelling through Austrian territory, and it seemed that the Roumanian railway authorities do not set much store by the God-like virtue either, at least as far as the accommodation of travellers is concerned. Throughout my travels I have found that romance and picturesqueness are seldom separated from dirt, and, fortunately, the former may often outbalance the latter. The world of romance became gently insistent as the railroad left the teeming coalfields of Prussian Poland behind and passed on to places famous in the history of the Kingdom of Poland--Cracow, still a centre of the refined and gracious intellectuality which characterizes Polish nobility. Then, again, there is Przemysl (hopeless the effort to pronounce it), yet it is the name of a mighty dynasty which reigned over Bohemia from here for at least a century in those days when the Christian world was moving eastward as crusaders, under Frederick Barbarossa, and for a short time ousted the Greek Emperors from the seat of Constantine in favour of the Latin Emperors, Baldwin and his successors. Here, again, Empires have gone under and their lands have been divided among younger races. We hurry on ever to south-east, and shortly enter a land which was formerly a portion of the Empire now on its death-bed--Moldavia, a province of Roumania. Roumania is a very interesting country, and I must own to a kind of spell which its past history and its present prosperity cast upon me. The former is stirring indeed. Memories of histories I had read came crowding in upon me as I travelled through Moldavia, the country separated from Russia by the Pruth, watered by the Sereth and its tributaries, Moldava, Bistritza, and others that come down from the Carpathian Mountains into the fertile plain. The Carpathians, snow-tipped, densely wooded on their lower slopes, accompanied me in the blue distance, until about the latitude of Galatz they turned away to westward, curving round in their southern range until they meet the Danube at Orsova, and force it to narrow down to a third of its stately width in order to pass through the Iron Gates. I thought of all those hordes of wandering barbarians whose course was deflected by the Carpathians, showing again how nature's barriers form the destinies of men. Streams of savages poured into this valley from the plains of Western Russia. Who were the first inhabitants is matter of conjecture: Scythians probably occupied the eastern districts, Thracians and Dacians were found by Trajan in the western part. Trajan conquered the Dacians in his campaign of 101-106 A.D., and founded a colony called Dacia Trajana. The column to this Emperor's honour, in Rome, sets forth the story of his conquest. The Dacians were by no means easy people to deal with, and Rome--Imperial Rome--had much trouble with Decebal, their King, who was finally vanquished, and committed suicide in order to escape from the disgrace of following the conqueror's triumphal chariot through the Roman Forum. Among the Roman remains scattered about the western parts of Roumania are the bridge-heads at Turn Severin and the ruined tower of Severus in the public gardens of that thriving township. It is supposed by the Roumanians themselves that they are descended from the Roman colonists of Dacia Trajana, and they point to their language in evidence. Theirs is indeed a Latin tongue, but language is often a false guide in the difficult and intricate paths of ethnology. It seems to me open to doubt that Rome of the second century could have afforded a sufficiently large supply of emigrants to people a large colony; and that the whole Roumanian nation should be descended from the Roman legionaries seems unlikely, for in the first instance it does not follow that the legionaries were all Romans, or even Latins, and again, if they had been, there would have been only a small proportion of them who would be permitted to bring wives and families with them. Moreover, the Roman tenure of the land was short, only about a century and a half, as in 270 the Goths streamed in from the north-east, obliging Emperor Aurelian to withdraw his troops into the province of Moesia, subsequently called Dacia Aureliana. The Goths were not inclined to settle anywhere in those days; they simply plundered and murdered as they went along, and probably left no definite impression on the races they were pleased to visit. We shall meet them again nearer Constantinople. Huns and Gepidi probably left stronger traces in the population of the former Roman province of Dacia Trajana when they swarmed through it in the middle of the fifth century, and I am inclined to think that in the middle of the next century the invading Avari made a deeper impression. Slavs and Bulgars forced their way here, and of the former many traces have been found, leading to the supposition that they enter largely into the composition of the Roumanian people. The Hungarians may have contributed something towards building up the present people of Roumania, when they marched through in 830, and subsequent Slav races, such as the Petschenegs in 900 and the Kumani, Tartars, in 1050, probably added their quota. At any rate German influence had vanished, and Slavs and Finns (Bulgars), with detachments of other wandering races united, blended into one, and it is thus that the Roumanian nation of to-day may be said to have originated. Dacia of Roman days extended well into Hungary of the present day, Transylvania, and the Banat, with the present divisions of Roumania, being a number of duchies still called Dacia in those days, though Imperial Rome had long abandoned the part of "Weltmacht." In the tenth and eleventh centuries, no doubt owing to the intervening Carpathians, Transylvania and the Banat became subject to Hungary, while the duchies of Wallachia and Moldavia crystallized into political entities, and were found to be sufficiently powerful to keep out the Kumani and check the Tartars in the fourteenth century. Towards the end of the fourteenth century yet another race came into Dacia from out of the East, driven from their homes in India by Tamerlane. They are known by various names, and are spread all over Europe. We call them gipsies, the Germans "Zigeuner," from "Tsigani," the name by which they are known in Eastern Europe. They call themselves Romanies, probably because they made Roumania their home, and here they are to be found in great numbers. Their language is Roumanian, though they have acquired many others in the course of their wanderings. Wherever they go they bring music with them, grand epics, love-songs, quaint little popular ditties, which they sing to the accompaniment of string instruments. It is these Tsigani who have been instrumental in keeping alive the traditions of a great past among the peoples of the Balkan countries. Together with religion, their songs have helped to preserve the national identity of Roumanians and Serbs, have fostered racial ambitions, and inspired heroes to fight for freedom. They sing in soul-stirring epics of Stephan Dushan, of great Voivods who led men to battle, of Hunyadi Janos and his paladins, of ill-fated Knjes Lazar, whose army of crusaders went under in a sea of blood before the sword of Othman on the Amselfeld at Kossovo, since recaptured by the Serbs. Their songs tell of great men rulers of the independent principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia; of Michael the Brave, who lived when Henri IV was King of France. Michael showed the Osmanli that it is vain to attempt the suppression of a strong race and its religion. No doubt the attempt seemed successful for a while; Cantomir of Moldavia and Brancovan of Wallachia, allied to Peter the Great of Russia, suffered defeat at the hands of the Turks on the banks of the Pruth, and had to submit to the rule of Greek hospodars, placed in power by the Porte, for a period of fifty-eight years. The duchies, like greater Powers in Eastern Europe, were unable for long to withstand the influence of the latest race to come from out of the East, and became subject to the Osmanli. During troubled centuries of Turkish suzerainty the Roumanian people preserved their faith, their national characteristics, and this enabled them to rise as a young, strong race when the hour of deliverance came. They had absorbed from their conquerors a number of able men, whose descendants have since identified themselves with the ambitions of Roumania, whose names are writ large on the tablets of fame among those who helped to make Roumania free. Of one of these the following story is told. There lived in Stamboul a gentle, business-like Armenian, by trade a cats'-meat man. Among his customers he noticed an elderly, dejected individual who was very particular in his choice of the daily morsel of meat, choosing liver as a rule. Now it struck the Armenian that possibly this daily purchase might be meant for human consumption, instead of for the delectation of a pet cat; careful inquiries led to the following discovery. His customer was an old servant, the only one who had remained true to his master, and that master, once Grand Vizier, had fallen from his high estate on very evil times. The Armenian cats'-meat man thereupon thought fit to be charitable, provided his customer with better wares, and suggested that payment might be deferred until a brighter day. By one of those turns of the wheel not unusual in Oriental countries, the former Grand Vizier rose from poverty and rags to power again, and decided to reward the Armenian. Considering that one candidate for the vacant post of Vali of Moldavia was likely to be as bad as another, he decided to thus endow the cats'-meat man, who possibly developed unsuspected talent in his new line of business. At any rate, he is the putative ancestor of one of Roumania's greatest princely houses, the Ghika family. There are descendants of yet more ancient families still to be found in Roumania, amongst them some Cantacuzene, of Byzantine fame. Roumania followed Greece and Servia in wresting its freedom from the Turk, and the Convention of Paris in 1856 assured the autonomous rights of the principalities, their union into one State, and constitutional government. A native magnate, Colonel Alexander Cusa, ruled as Prince Alexander John I for ten years, and although his election to that position was not in exact accordance with the Treaty of Paris, was nevertheless sanctioned by the Powers. This Prince resigned in 1866, and as a Count of Flanders, younger brother of the King of the Belgians, declined the invitation to succeed him, Prince Charles of Hohenzollern Sigmaringen accepted it as Carol I. In 1877 Roumania declared herself completely independent of Turkey, much against Russia's wishes, and ceased to pay tribute to the Porte. This precipitated the war against Turkey, and three divisions of Roumanian troops, some 35,000 men, with 108 guns, led by their Prince, joined the Russian forces. Prince Charles himself fired the first shot at Vidin, and his gallant troops followed him on to victory. They particularly distinguished themselves by spirited bayonet attacks at Plevna, and it was to the Roumanian troops that Osman Pasha surrendered. Roumania was not called to the conference at S. Stefano, and had to trust to Russia's good offices in order to get her independence fully recognized. For this kindness Russia annexed fruitful Bessarabia, leaving to Roumania the swamps of the Dobrutsha. On the 22nd (10th) of May, 1881, the Hohenzollern Prince was crowned King of Roumania, having been duly proclaimed by both Chambers of the country's Parliament. He rules still, and wisely, over a prosperous country of 50,702 square miles, with a population of six to seven millions. The majority of the people of Roumania belong to the Orthodox Greek Church, have so far lived in peace with their neighbours, and are happy and prosperous. But they have not remained unaffected by the desperate events which brought such an upheaval to the other Balkan States. There is among the younger generation considerable discontent at the supposed subservience of Roumania's foreign policy to the dictates of her mighty friend, Austria. It is argued that if Austria had not vetoed Roumania's mobilization on the outbreak of the Balkan War, that war might have been stopped. As matters stand at present, many Roumanians think that they have missed an opportunity of getting some useful trifle of territory for themselves, or that they have been deprived of opportunity, and are consequently very sore about it. So here, too, threatening clouds obscure the political horizon. It would be a ghastly sequel to the indecision of the Great Powers if this plucky little kingdom were called upon to face an invader, if grim-visaged war were to cast its shadow over the fair fields and fertile plains of Roumania. The rich soil produces abundance of wheat, maize, and other cereals, and would produce more but for the summer droughts. I have seen the rich yellow maize being garnered, and have watched the golden wealth of corn shipped into boats and barges on the Danube, to be taken down to Braila, Galatz, and thence onward to feed other countries less bountifully supplied. Then there are vast forests, another source of wealth. It is only a few weeks ago that I was tramping over crisp snow in the shade of close-standing forest trees. A friend had asked me to go out with him after wild boar. It was a glorious day; cool greys and purples in the forest, with here and there a patch of rich brown soil, and through the trees the sun, in a clear blue sky, drew radiance from the snow, and showed up on a background of dark green firs the golden glory of larches, the red and russet leaves of wild cherry, and other trees, on which the foliage still lingered ere the winter storms set in. Winter is very severe in this country, and wolves come down from the mountains to the villages in the plains in search of their prey. There is other game in plenty; bear may be found in the depths of the Carpathian forests, and the wild cat, in thick black and grey striped coat, steals through the undergrowth like his larger kinsmen of the jungle. Bucharest, the capital of Roumania, is a town for which I have a sincere liking. It is not a large place, only some 300,000, but it is a well-planned town, gay, just a little wicked, and above all, the inhabitants insist on the best of music, and get it at such places as the Continental Hotel, where you can dine well to the strains of an excellent gipsy orchestra. Roumania occupies a position of some danger in the complex polity of South-East Europe. To eastward, across the Pruth, looms the massive strength of Russia, never yet put to a severe test, so that its power is still an unknown quantity. To southward across the Danube live the Bulgarians, a strong, ambitious people, and, as far as I can ascertain, not on the friendliest terms with Roumania. But behind Roumania is the Empire of Kaiser Franz Josef, and Austrian influence is strong, especially in the industrial life of Roumania. It would be piteous to carry war into this happy country, with its flourishing agriculture, its prosperous oil-fields, at Bustenari, Campiña, etc. But Roumania has taken due precautions; a navy of some seventy-five small but well-appointed vessels guards Roumanian interests on the Black Sea coast; they may be seen occasionally on the lower reaches of the Danube, by the huge bridge that carries the railway over to Constanza, the Brighton of the Black Sea littoral, or perhaps Trouville is a more apt comparison. Here also ends the wall which Trajan built from the Danube across the narrowest part of the Dobrutsha. Then, again, the Roumanian Army is well able to hold its own. The war establishment of the regular army, well trained and well equipped, numbers 175,000 troops, more by three-quarters than Great Britain's expeditionary force. To this should be added a territorial force of excellent quality of about equal numbers, altogether a formidable obstacle to any one who wishes to interfere with Roumania's position in the world. For this adequate defence Roumania pays somewhat less than two and a half millions. As I wrote this the political horizon of Roumania was dark with heavy storm-clouds, for her eastern neighbour is like to be drawn into the strife which is altering the state of Southern Europe, the onslaught of the southern Slav nations on their old oppressors at Constantinople. The southern frontier of Roumania at least was safe, for the Bulgarians were hammering now at the gates of Constantinople, pouring out their blood like water by the lines of Chatalja. CHAPTER II My fellow-passengers in the boat train to Constanza--The Bosphorus and places of interest by its shores: Kavak and the Genoese castle, forts ancient and modern--Some mention of forgotten deities, and also of races long since dead, who passed by here--The Russians and their first visit to the Bosphorus--The Genoese and their doings in these waters--The Giant's Mountain and Joshua's grave--My adventure at Kavak, suspected of spying, and a similar experience at Badajoz--The castles, Anatoli and Roumeli Hissar--Mohammed the Conqueror and the siege of Constantinople--Approaching the Golden Horn, foreign warships--Byzas the seafarer--Some legends and tales about ancient Byzantium, mentioning important people like Alcibiades and Philip of Macedonia--Stamboul and the origin of its name; some of its story--Its present troubles. The Roumanian mail-steamer "Dacia," a fast, well-appointed ship, carried me out into the Black Sea on a clear, dark night, her nose pointing towards the Bosphorus. My fellow-passengers by the train conveying me to Constanza had tried to fill me with alarm as to the state of Constantinople, they spoke of rumoured massacres, and advised me to don a fez, alluded with head-shakings to cholera, and generally warned me against my enterprise. Nevertheless, the next morning found me within sight of the entrance to the Bosphorus; a pearly grey morning, and the sun drew a flickering path of light from our port bow, broadening into a scintillating expanse of silver on the horizon. Groups of Turks stood in the bows straining their eyes for a sight of land. It was an intensely peaceful morning which made it difficult to imagine that behind the blue heights rising out of the water fierce war raged with all its attendant horrors; for there to south-west, beyond the coast fort of Kilia, and some fifty miles beyond it, were the lines of Chatalja, where the Bulgarians were trying to wrest the Empire of the East from the palsied hand of the sons of Othman. The coast of Asia Minor emerges from the pearly sea and marks the entrance to the Turkish Empire from the north. History and legend crowd in upon this narrow waterway, with its little wooden houses by the shore, sombre cypresses guarding them, and the graves upon the slopes, where modern forts and ancient strongholds stand side by side. Here to our left on the Asiatic side lies Anatoli Kavak, the Poplar of Asia, for several poplars stand out above the buildings devoted to the sanitary service of the port. There is a fort at the point trying its best to look modern, and above it, rising to the heights, are the remains of an older civilization, those of the Genoese castle. On the opposite bank is Roumeli Kavak, the Poplar of Europe, also fortified in the divers manners of many ages. Legend and history have been busy in this part of the Bosphorus. This narrow passage was formerly known as the Straits of Hieron, and that name derives from the fact that a temple to the twelve gods stood here. Here Jason offered sacrifices on his return from Colchis. There were also temples to Poseidon and Zeus, Serapis and Cybele, but they have vanished with the gods to whom they were dedicated. The Heruli took refuge here after an unsuccessful sea fight off Scutari, then known as Chrysopolis, and about the same time the Goths crossed over from Roumeli Kavak into Asia, and ravaged Bithynia up to the walls of Nicodemia, but Odenatus, commanding the military forces of the East, checked their progress and drove them away to Heraklea on the Black Sea. In the middle of the ninth century Russians appeared for the first time, passing down the Bosphorus to the City of Constantine, but attempted no further than Hieron. They came again in the middle of the tenth century under a cloud of sail ten thousand vessels in all, and burned Stenia and Hieron, but Theophanes, the soldier of Emperor Romanus II, met and defeated them at Hieron. In later years the Genoese became powerful and held a strong position at Galata; they took Hieron and Serapeori, and the ruined castle on the heights above Anatoli Kavak stands as a monument to that enterprising republic. Another seafaring republic, Venice, which rivalled Greece on this highway between the Black Sea and the Mediterranean, troubled the waters between Anatoli and Roumeli Kavak with frequent naval engagements. Meanwhile the country was supposed to belong to the Empire of the East, and a church was built and dedicated to St. Michael the Archangel, who was considered peculiarly suited to represent and defend Greek interests at Hieron. However, those who had assigned to him this duty neglected their own, and so in time had to make way for the Turk. He in his turn was now threatened from the north, for but fifty miles away the Bulgarians were hammering at the lines of Chatalja. A little further to the south on the Asiatic side rises the highest point on the banks of the Bosphorus, the Giant's Mountain. The Turks call it Yousha daghi, the Mountain of Joshua, and no one shares with them the interest in this spot, for here they have thought fit to bury Joshua. His grave is here, so who dare doubt; it stands over five hundred feet above the level, is guarded by true believers, and offers to others an opportunity of becoming immune to "need, sickness, or any other adversity." All the visitor need do to attain to this happy state is to hang a bit of rag on one of the bushes that grow out of the grave, and rags are plentiful in Turkey. It is also advisable to walk round the grave several times and wish for something you happen to want. The grave is twenty feet long and five feet broad, and carefully enclosed within a framework of stone. While taking a sketch of this landscape some years ago, I had my first of two experiences as a suspected spy. In some countries of Europe even the most innocuous traveller is liable to be suspected of espionage as soon as he produces a camera--a bit of paper and a pencil will even suffice to arouse suspicion. Strange to say, it is among the so-called Great Powers that the mania has got the firmest hold of the official world and even of the public. Of course, the lesser Powers have not quite escaped contagion, and it is from some of these that I have gained my experience as a suspected spy, for, needless to say, such an habitual traveller as I am is not likely to escape from the effects of the prevailing _malaise_. Fortunately my experiences have been rather amusing than otherwise, and have caused no international crisis, no trembling in the balance of the Peace of Europe, not even a newspaper paragraph. But think of what might have happened when I took a pencil sketch of the bulwarks of Belgrade! True, those venerable fortifications date from the days of Vauban, and are as much use for defence as are the walls of Semendria, the old Roman castle further down the Danube, and moreover the Danube Powers have long ago agreed not to fortify any place along the river-bank. Yet the fortifications of Belgrade are jealously guarded; but as it was four in the morning when I took my sketch from on board the Danube steamer there was no one about to say me nay, and hence no international complications. A few days later my peripatetic habits took me to Constantinople, and there one day I seated myself on the banks of the Bosphorus, Asiatic side, and began a sketch of the lovely view before me. There happened to be a more or less modern fort immediately behind me; this, of course, did not concern me. I was deeply engaged in rendering the blue sky reflected in the sea, a stern old Genoese castle in the background, which had served its purpose of defence many centuries ago, when two amiable Turkish artillery officers came down to the beach and sat one on either side of me. They greeted me kindly and inquired whether I could speak German or French. I replied that I could oblige in either, whereupon they conversed with me in both, mixed, and to my mind not a judicious mixture. We talked of many things, when one of them said, "It is forbidden to sketch here!" and the other endorsed the statement. They quite agreed with me, however, that it would be a pity to stop painting now, as I had so nearly finished, and so our conversation went into other channels. There was yet another Turkish officer, who stood some way behind us, shouting in an angry tone and in his own tongue, which, as I understand it not at all, did not trouble me. An occasional pacifying answer from my two neighbours failed of its effect. When I had quite finished my friends helped me to pack up and escorted me past the fort, followed by the sound of the angry voice. My escort explained that the owner of the voice wanted to arrest me and was with difficulty dissuaded; this friendly demonstration moved me to offer hospitality, my escort having casually mentioned that good beer was to be found at a neighbouring café. The escort furtively looked back towards the fort, then sadly shook hands with me and said, "No, he (the angry one, a good Moslem) is looking--come again another day." My most recent experience showed me that the mania has spread to Spain, though happily in a mild form. I suffered from it, so I know; and this is what happened. At the time I was collecting material for a book on Portugal, and to this end the Portuguese Government had kindly given me a free pass over their railway system. This pass, I found, would take me to Badajoz and back, a most excellent reason for visiting the place. The time-table prepared me for a twelve hours' journey by slow train, but in its being intensely matter-of-fact could not foreshadow the "local colour" which illumined my pilgrimage. The start at 7 p.m. was quite peaceful; I secured a corner seat, and the other corners only were occupied, so we jogged along in no very great discomfort. But only a few stations out of Lisbon the peace was broken. A sound of many voices, high-pitched, grew louder as we drew up at a wayside station, it rolled into our compartment in "dense volume" as the door was flung open, and with it came a shower of parcels of all sizes, impartially distributed among us. The fulcrum of this shower (if a shower runs to one) was a stout lady, impelled through space into our midst by some potent agency without. Grasping a bottle of wine in one hand, a bottle of water in the other, talking loudly all the while, she alighted (not at all like a bird) on my foot, dropped on to my knee, and slid thence into a seat by my side. Followed quickly by her maid, also talking; she settled abruptly on the cap of a cavalry officer opposite to me. But yet more strident tones dominated this Babel, proceeding from a stouter lady, volant, who once settled, fitted a number of talkative males into the interstices between huge hat-boxes and other personal effects. The compartment was thus completely crowded, and conversation raged--raged till morning, was raging on the platform at Badajoz, when I left for the town. Had I been a stranger to the country and its people the intense excitement of my fellow-travellers might have led me to imagine all manner of horrid happenings to unhappy Portugal, grim revolution mixed with devastating earthquakes, foreign invasion on one frontier and a tidal wave on the seaward side--as a matter of fact, the ladies were travelling for their health. All-unsuspecting I passed in at the gates of Badajoz, past the guard-house, and made my way towards the south-east of the city, where I hoped to get a good view. I did, and having indulged in an appropriate thrill over the storming of that citadel, proceeded with my legitimate business, sketching. Then I wandered round by the river, and began the outline of a mass of crumbling ruins, tumbling down towards the bank. Those walls must have been quite useful for defensive purposes many centuries ago, they are now extremely picturesque, and therefore still useful to the peripatetic artist. Suddenly a well-modulated voice broke in upon my labours. Standing by my side, cap in hand, was a sergeant of the Guarda Civil, who wished to know whether My Excellency, Grace, or Worship (I do not know what the Spanish _usted_ means) had any authorization to take sketches. I admitted that I had none, at the same time appealing to the gentleman as an expert whether my sketches could possibly be considered of any strategical or tactical value. The sergeant modestly declined to judge in such a weighty matter, and requested that I should do him the favour of accompanying him. This I untruthfully expressed myself delighted to do, and so he led me to the guard-house. There was no barred and bolted prison cell for me, in fact I did not penetrate into the interior of the guard-house at all, possibly because a very stout corporal filled up all the doorway. This warrior took a very serious view of the case and said he must fetch an officer; so he majestically passed out of my ken, for I never saw him again. In the meantime I was getting distinctly bored; the sergeant, though most courteous, was no conversationalist, and my knowledge of Spanish is strictly limited. After an hour's delay two gentlemen in mufti passed our way, evidently people of importance, for my sergeant was at once cap in hand, and to them he entered upon a recital about my serious case. One of them understood French, so I showed him my sketch-book and asked him to try and discover anything of military value or importance in it. He failed, but nevertheless suggested that the sergeant and I should call upon the Military Governor. I hinted that we might have thought of that before, but my sergeant seemed to consider it (thinking) no part of his business. We waited another hour at the Military Governor's palatial official residence, watching Spanish soldiers moving in and out in their quick, jaunty manner; smart, well-dressed men they are too. Then His Excellency the Governor came down the steps, and my sergeant, cap in hand, began his story all over again. I burst into it in French and again showed up my sketch-book, His Excellency quite agreeing with me that my sketches were singularly harmless from any point of view. Perhaps I was assuming more responsibility than becomes a wandering painter when I promised that I would never bring out an English army to upset the walls of Badajoz again, though of course I could safely promise never to take part in any such disturbance should it happen again. The Governor was thoroughly satisfied with my earnest assurances, and with a generous wave of his arm invited me to draw and paint all Badajoz. "Would His Excellency give me that gracious permission in writing? Without it I might be calling again in half an hour's time and with a fresh escort!" "Certainly!" So I became possessed of a document which gave a strange rendering of my name--it described me as one Leandro Vaca, which latter being interpreted means cow. After this formality we were all extremely polite to each other, we bowed a great deal and said to each other things which we could not have meant to be taken seriously. Twice did I meet the Governor and his staff in the streets that afternoon, and each time we did the bowing all over again. Two hours of precious daylight had been wasted, so I made up for lost time and sketched everywhere, especially near sentries, as I particularly wished to watch the magic effect of the Leandro Vaca document. But alas! not one of those sentries could be roused to the least interest in my proceedings; so I took my way back to the station, destroying the document, as the Governor had requested me to do so. Here ends my "espionage story," which, not to be behindhand, I have had to put into print myself, no reporter having thought it worth while at the time. A very different place altogether is Therapia, some three miles further south on the European side; the name means "Place of Healing," and must have been given to it before the ambassadors of the Great Powers set up their summer residence by its shore. As I passed by Therapia several Turkish men-of-war, a small cruiser, a gunboat, and several destroyers were lying peacefully in the small harbour, completely indifferent to the trials of Turkey's land forces, who, only a matter of fifty miles away, were endeavouring to ward off the Bulgarians' blow at the heart of the Ottoman Empire. The Bosphorus broadens out somewhat at Beikos on the Asiatic side, and it is on this curving bay that according to legend Pollux visited Amycus, King of the Bebryces, to the latter's undoing. The banks draw closer together, clustering wooden houses dipping their stone foundations in the water grow more numerous as the Bosphorus winds southward. Two castles rise from among trees and wooden houses, one majestically, the other in rather humbler fashion, the former on the European, the latter on the Asiatic shore. History lingers round these broken towers, but the battered grey walls looked sadder than when I saw them last, under the grey sky they seemed to mourn the departed glory of the race that built them. The castle on the Asiatic side, Anatoli Hissar, encloses rows of quaint little wooden huts, tendrils of vine stretch across the narrow cobbled alleys from the overhanging roofs, and at the foot of the castle flow the Sweet Waters of Asia. It is a pleasant place in spring, this "valley of the heavenly water," and one of the loveliest spots on the banks of the Bosphorus. To many Asiatic poets it has been what the valley of the Mondego was to Camoens and other sweet singers of Lusitania. Mohammed I built this castle, and Mohammed II sat here in 1451 watching the growth of Roumeli Hissar, the Castle of Europe, on the frontier shore. In three months this castle rose from the rocky slope at this the narrowest part of the Bosphorus; thousands of labourers were forced into the service of construction, and the ground plan was the initial letter of Mohammed's name. When it was finished Firaz Agha was appointed commander of the garrison of four hundred men, and levied toll on all passing ships, while the Emperor of the East sent despairing offers of peace from his purple palace in Constantinople. But Mohammed II declined to negotiate, and continued his preparations for the taking of the Castle of Cæsar. Here the forces of Othman gathered strength for their great enterprise, hence they set forth on desperate venture. Constantinople fell before them, the Eastern Empire vanished like a dream, and the Crescent gleamed over the subject races of the Balkan Peninsula and carried terror into the hearts of Christian countries away to the walls of Vienna. To-day those former subject races, strong and united, have overrun all but the last few miles of the Turkish Empire in Europe; there to westward, at a distance of fifty miles or so, the Bulgarians were hammering at the lines of Chatalja. When Mohammed the Conqueror first began to besiege Constantinople he endeavoured to force an entrance by the Golden Horn; from Roumeli Hissar to Seraglio Point his fleet extended, but in vain, for a heavy chain barred the entrance, and beyond it the larger vessels of the Genoese and Venetians rode at anchor. So Mohammed conceived a bold plan in keeping with his character and ability. From Beshiktash--called by the Greeks Diplokion, the Double Columns, Mohammed caused a road of smooth planks to be constructed; this road led over the heights and down to the western end of the Golden Horn. It must have been a difficult task, for Galata, the Genoese fortress, had to be avoided. Galata stands in a position somewhat similar to Constantinople, on a promontory formed by the Hellespont and the Golden Horn, which bends slightly to the north after passing west of the place where the land wall of Theodosius joined the sea-wall, towards the Sweet Waters of Europe. When the road was completed, the planks thoroughly greased, a host of men hauled eighty galleys over it during the night. According to the Byzantine chronicler, Ducas, every galley had a pilot at her prow, another on her poop, with his hand on the tiller; so, with drums beating time to the sailors' songs the whole fleet passed along as though it were carried by a stream of water, sailing, as it were, over the land. The next morning these ships were riding at anchor in the upper, shallower part of the harbour, beyond reach of the larger Genoese and Venetian vessels. Thus the fleet of Mohammed the Conqueror in 1453, while the Turkish fleet of to-day was lying idle, though hundreds of thousands of sons of Ottoman were struggling to retain a fragment of Turkey's European possessions. There were few signs to show that Turkey was engaged in a struggle for life as I passed down the Bosphorus; here and there were camps, red-brown canvas tents, and over some buildings by the shore the red crescent on a white ground spoke of much-needed comfort for the sick and wounded. It was not till Stamboul and Scutari hove in sight that I saw anything unusual, but what I saw was remarkably so--the massive hulls of foreign warships. Nearer to Scutari lay a large French cruiser, black against the uncertain light of a rainy day. Scutari and Kadi Kevi, the ancient Chalcedon, as Byzas, the founder of Byzantium, called it, because the inhabitants of that place must have been blind, or they would have chosen the tongue of land opposite, on the glorious harbour, on which to build their city. Scutari, where Florence Nightingale's hospital still stands. English ladies are following in that noble woman's steps here, in Constantinople, in this day of affliction for the Turkish Empire--and are doing so with the bravery and devotion of women of our race. Indeed a sign of evil days when foreign warships are anchored in the Golden Horn, but the interests of many nations are affected, and the future, not only for the Balkan countries, but also for all Europe, is big with possibilities. Grey clouds hung over the Golden Horn as I approached it, the domes of mosques and their attendant minarets stood out darkly against a sullen sky, and the ancient cypress grove that breaks the outlines of the buildings on Seraglio Point seemed like those who mourn over some great catastrophe. Here, on this tongue of land--Seraglio Point--began the history of this troubled city, this Castle of Cæsar, throne of the Osmanli, which has seen more glory and more gloom, known more high delights and abject terrors than perhaps even eternal Rome. While heavy drops of rain fall from a leaden sky on to the steel decks of those grim foreign men-of-war, or splash on the slow-swinging waters of the Golden Horn, it is difficult to conjure up the scenes of former glories witnessed here by the sun on his daily passage from the east. The Oracle in Poseidon's sacred grove had whispered to Byzas the seafarer: "Go forth to the Country of the Blind and build you a city opposite their own--you shall prosper." Silently the ship that carried Byzas and his fortunes stood out to sea as Aurora touched the high peaks of the Peloponese with rosy finger-tips, and called forth colours, carmine and gold, from the unruffled surface of the pearly Ægean Sea. Bearing ever to the north, Byzas and his fellows asked of those they met, "Is this the City of the Blind," and receiving no answer, held on their way. He may have been tempted to land on one or other of the Prince's islands, floating on the bosom of the blue Sea of Marmora, but the spirit within urged him further into the unknown. Perhaps it was twilight when he saw a large city looming on the eastern shore of the narrowing waterway, the city he called Chalcedon, for opposite to it he found that entrance to the spacious harbour which is known the world over as the "Golden Horn." Here Byzas, fulfilling the Oracle's prediction, laid the foundations of ancient Byzantium, and the City grew and prospered. Behind the walls a busy populace increased the wealth and importance of the place, and others came here from afar in search of riches. So ancient Byzantium became the mart for those who traded from the west along the coasts of the Mediterranean Sea, through the Dardanelles and the Bosphorus away to Trebizond, on the Black Sea, where the old Greek tongue yet lingers in its purest form; the Crimea opening out cold, inhospitable Russia, even distant Persia exchanged its wares for the products of the city which Byzas had founded. Byzant also assumed great strategical importance, as many of those who came in search of wealth came armed and minded to acquire what they wanted by the sword. Chroseos, King of the Persians, emerges from the mists of history, and appears for a brief space of time before the walls, with hordes of warriors, trained to ride, to shoot, to speak the truth; Spartans and Athenians tried the strength of this bulwark of Europe, and Alcibiades besieged it. In 370 B.C. the Athenians, urged on by Demosthenes, helped to defend the city against Philip of Macedonia, and forced him to abandon his intent. It is said that during this siege the Macedonians, under cover of a dark night, were on the point of carrying the town by assault, when a light appeared in the heavens to reveal their danger to the inhabitants. Rome gained possession of the city before the Christian era, and Constantine the Great, the man of genius, made this his capital in A.D. 330, giving to the city its present name, or rather one of its names, for the Turks call it Stamboul, or Istamboul, probably derived from the Greek [Greek: eis tên polin], and to the Slavs it is known as Tsarigrad, the Castle of Cæsar. Here in the heart of the Eastern Empire history, strong, full-blooded, speaks to us from ancient monuments and battered walls. Churches arose to mark the religious life of a strongly imaginative people, ruins of palaces still tell of a line of rulers, emperors, sultans who lived their day, worked for good or evil, and passed into the mist of things but half-remembered. Alien races found their way hither in search of booty, and dashed out their souls against the City's strong defences. Severus, Maximus, and Constantinus tried its strength; another Persian king, Chroseos II, battled before these walls in 616, and ten years later the Avari came with the Persians on like enterprise. Towards the end of the seventh century a fierce foe, the Arabs, came up from the south, and tried in vain to force an entrance into the Castle of Constantine. They came again, and besieged the city for two years, from 716-18, but were refused a second time. [Illustration: ANATOLI KAVAK Where modern forts and ancient strongholds stand side by side.] About a century and a half later Russians came down from the Black Sea, the prows of their long boats, under a cloud of sail, ploughing up the wintry waters of the Bosphorus. They also failed, but repeated the attempt twice in the tenth century, and yet once more towards the middle of the eleventh, only to return northward, baffled and broken. The city fell for the first time before a host of Western Christians during the Latin Crusades under the leadership of Dandolo, Doge of Venice, in 1203-4. These Christians pillaged the Imperial City, and set up a line of Counts of Flanders as Emperors of the East. After some fifty years the Latins were driven forth, leaving Constantinople in a state of indescribable misery and desolation; Greek Emperors returned, but failed to restore the power of the Eastern Empire, which was sorely tried by the insistent sons of Othman. The last Greek Emperors reigned but two short centuries after the retreat of the Latins; then came Mohammed the Conqueror, and Constantinople passed into the hands of the Turk. It was during the Feast of Pentecost, on May 29th of 1453, that Constantinople fell before the sword of Othman. At this present season the Turks were keeping the Feast of Bairam, their Pentecost. Again, the superstitious point out another coincidence; both 1453 and 1912 make up the unlucky number thirteen. Before Constantinople fell in 1453 the Eastern Empire had been shorn of all its possessions by the invading Turk, and from Adrianople, his European capital, he had organized the siege of the City. To-day all that the Turk may call his own of the European territory acquired by the sword is the point of land between the Black Sea and the Sea of Marmora, on the north and south respectively, the Bosphorus on the east, and to westward the lines of Chatalja. Young nations long oppressed have risen against the power of the Porte; Greece, the first country to free itself, has marched to Saloniki, adding victory on victory; Montenegrins, the first to enter on this war, have come down from their mountains, and have taken possession of Turkish territory on the Adriatic Sea; Servia poured her warlike sons over the passes into Macedonia, and wrenched former possessions of Old Servia from the fiercely resisting Turks; finally Bulgaria, that strong, ambitious nation, holds Adrianople in a grip of steel, has hurled its young strength against the stubborn Turkish defences, and is now on guard at the lines of Chatalja, demanding admission by the voice of death-dealing ordnance. During the Turkish Feast of Pentecost the enemy was at the gates, and the fate of Constantinople, the fate of the Turkish Empire in Europe, trembled in the balance. It is rather a leap from the days of Mohammed the Conqueror to an evening at the Club de Pera, but Constantinople is a city of strong contrasts. The streets leading from the water-side to the club showed no signs of unusual military activity, there was no appearance of excitement or despondency in the bearing of the inhabitants, and the club, but for a larger gathering of members and the sight of a White Crescent armlet, was much as I am accustomed to find it. Indeed, men came to me, as the latest arrival, for news from the front and the outside world, for they have to wait for the papers from home, generally four or five days old. It seems strange, but is none the less true, that we here on the spot heard hardly anything of events that are disquieting the rest of Europe; we heard but distantly of Servia's stubbornness in face of Austria's insistence concerning the Adriatic littoral, we caught but a fleeting rumour of Russia's supposed designs and Roumania's possible peril. All we knew was that brave men were dying by thousands out by the lines of Chatalja, some fifty miles distant; the booming of guns carried by the sobbing wind from out of the west brought us tidings of warlike happenings. CHAPTER III The everyday aspect of Constantinople--Refugees in the streets--Sick and wounded soldiers in the streets--The Red Crescent over the Museum in the Seraglio--More about Byzas--Theodosius II and Constantius the præfect--The geological situation of Constantinople--The treasures of the Museum and the School of Art--The Prince's Islands--Irene, Empress of the East, and Charlemagne--The Atrium of Justinian--About Amurath I and the Christian Princess--Mohammed the Conqueror and the Greek Patriarch--Some tales of the Seraglio, of Bajazet and Zizimes, of Selim I, of Suleiman the Great and Roxalana--The Seraglio as hospital. The sun was shining brightly as on the morning after my arrival I made my way down from Pera through Galata, towards Stamboul. Everything appeared much as usual; the bridge of Galata was as crowded as ever with all sorts and conditions of men--hamals carrying huge loads, soldiers, kavasses, dervishes, water-carriers, and vendors of cake and other less useful articles. Horses seemed as plentiful as ever, driven by loud-voiced coachmen, drawing obese, elderly Turks. The fish-market was as busy as ever, and the open space behind the Mosque of Valideh showed its customary groups of men of leisure. [Illustration: Refugees Nearly all the narrow streets were blocked by rows of waggons, drawn by oxen, conveying fugitives from Thrace and Macedonia.] It was on the way to the station, in the narrow streets of that neighbourhood, that I saw sights unusual to the City. Nearly all these narrow streets were blocked by rows of waggons, drawn by oxen, conveying fugitives from Thrace and Macedonia, chiefly the former province. Men, but few young ones amongst them, women and children, swarmed about these carts, which contained all their portable property. From the dark recesses of these carts, covered either with striped carpet or tilt of basket-work, you might see a solemn-faced baby, brown of visage, black-eyed, crawling over the indescribable medley of sacks and bags stuffed with the family properties, while familiar utensils, strangely out of place, were disposed about the outside supports of the roof. Groups of children played about in the appalling filth of the narrow streets and seemed quite happy and contented. Women unveiled, and young girls went about performing household duties, and the men for the most part sat on their haunches against the wall, wrapt in contemplation. On the whole there seemed little misery among these particular people, who had left their homes, fleeing before a victorious enemy. They waited patiently, some of them for days, to be transported across to Asia Minor, where, on the "native heath" of their race, they propose to start life afresh. Being Turks, they are no doubt used to Turkish rule, and prefer it to any other. Sadder scenes I saw when walking up from the station past the lower gate of the Sublime Porte, towards the old Seraglio. Here were hundreds of soldiers, some sick, some slightly wounded, making their way to the hospitals established in the buildings of the Seraglio enclosure. Most of these men looked only weary, others thoroughly unconcerned, but on some faces I noted traces of such despair as I have seldom seen before. Weary and footsore, they trod the uneven pavement up to the gate of the Seraglio, only to be turned back and ordered elsewhere. These men were only the slightly wounded, in fact, no others, it appears, have come into the town. Where are those who were dangerously wounded? It is said that they are rotting, uncared-for, on the plains of Macedonia, on the hill-sides and plains of Thrace. The Red Crescent now flies over the Museum, Armoury, and other buildings within the Seraglio enclosure, where so much of Constantinople's stirring history took place. A wall with many square towers shuts off the Seraglio from the rest of Stamboul, and here, within this limited space, was laid the seed of Byzantine greatness. Formerly, stout walls enclosed this point to seaward as well as landward, and Bondelmontius, who travelled here, counted 188 strong towers. There are yet a few traces left of those stout walls, their foundations in the Sea of Marmora or the waters of the Golden Horn. No doubt Byzas built a wall, as becomes the founder of a city, but it was so long ago, and so many great men have built here since, that any expectations of finding traces of the original walls are hardly reasonable. They say that some huge blocks of stone date from the days of Pausanias, but even later work is old compared to most similar historical remains found in Western Europe. Theodosius II and his præfect Constantius have left records of their activity here, and that was in the beginning of the fifth century; then Emperor Theophilus repaired them in the ninth century. Constantinople, like several other great cities, stands upon seven hills; this is the fashion among really great cities, and the first of these hills is that on which stand the Seraglio buildings. A broad road leads up to these buildings, which contain many interesting things. There is the Museum, containing many treasures, among them two of wondrous beauty--two sarcophagi--one of which claims to have held the remains of Alexander the Great, the other is said to have been the last resting-place of one of Alexander's generals, and is known as "Les Pleureuses," from the beautifully sculptured female figures in mourning draperies which adorn it. One set of buildings is devoted to modern art, a school for that purpose having been founded here, under the auspices of Humdi Bey, who is responsible for much of artistic effort and archæological research which characterized the Young Turk ambition to compete with the West in Western graces and accomplishments. I visited the School of Art two years ago, in order to see how far those ambitions were likely to be realized, especially in painting, my own particular pursuit. There were numbers of sketches and studies of undoubted accuracy, evidence of appreciation and of careful observation, but to me these works appeared no more than transcriptions of Nature; the Divine Fire which creates was not. This leads me regretfully to suppose that the Turk is not likely to progress along the line of creative art, albeit their High Priest, the Sheikh-ul-Islam, has decreed that there is no infringement of the laws of the Prophet in the endeavour of his followers to express higher thoughts by means artistic. It has been my good fortune to visit many of our earth's most beautiful places; Imperial Rome has cast its spell upon me, Naples I saw and happily did not die of joy at seeing it, I have entered Bombay Harbour when the sun was rising behind the Poona Ghats, and have seen the Shwe Dagon at Rangoon, gleaming over its dark green bowers by the rays of the setting sun. Then, again, I have looked over the broad expanse of the Tagus at Lisbon, when a fierce storm from the vast Atlantic flayed the troubled waters, and vivid lightnings showed distant Palmella against an angry sky; I have walked in the groves by the banks of Mondego, the Lovers' River, at Coimbra, where whispering reeds tell the story of Inez de Castro, and have sat by the banks of the Lima, which flows through the "Happy Valley," whither the ancient gods fled before the Cross. Yet have I seldom found a spot so fitted to attune the mind to an appreciation of things beautiful as Constantinople and its Seraglio enclosure. To the south-west, in the blue Sea of Marmora, the Prince's Islands, or the Daimonnisoi, seem to float on the untroubled waters. There are nine of these islands, and chief among them is Prinkipo, and to each one attaches some interest, some memory of former times. There is Halki, or Khalki, a group of three hills, and each had its convent dedicated respectively to the Virgin, to St. George, and to Holy Trinity. There is also a historic monument which more nearly concerns Englishmen, the tomb of Edward Barton, sometime Ambassador of Queen Elizabeth to the Sultan of the day. But Prinkipo, as chiefest of the Prince's Islands, stands out above them in romantic interest. Irene, the great Empress of the East, great among renowned contemporaries of the ninth century, Charlemagne, Haroun-al-Raschid, had built and endowed a convent on this island. Charlemagne spent much of his time fighting infidels; his warpath led him over the Pyrenees to assist the Gothic kingdoms against the Moor; on one such occasion, when retreating into France, Roland the Paladin fell. Again, Wittekind, Duke of the Saxons, was subject to the Frankish Emperor's attention, and caused him a vast amount of trouble before he became a Christian and settled down. Then Charlemagne took the field against the Avari, who infested the banks of the Danube from above Vienna down towards the Black Sea, and who probably proved troublesome neighbours to the Eastern Empire. No doubt Irene was much impressed with Charlemagne's prowess, and being a lone, lorn widow had the happy idea of uniting the Empires of the East and the West by matrimony. Charlemagne sent an ambassador to arrange the matter, but one Nicephorus, Chancellor of the Empire, spoilt the plan by banishing Irene to Prinkipo. The Empress was not allowed to rest here, but was conveyed to Lemnos, where she died a year later. Her remains were buried in the convent she had founded at Prinkipo. Nicephorus, as first Emperor of that name, reigned for nine years, and suffered the indignity of paying tribute to the Arabs. He fell in the war against the Bulgarians, who now, as I write, are threatening Constantinople at the lines of Chatalja. Where now are tumbling ruins through which the railroad makes its way, down by the Sea of Marmora where it washes Seraglio Point, there was in ancient days a broad esplanade called the Atrium of Justinian the Great, for it was his creation. It was a fair place too, built of white marble, and here the citizens of Constantinople would meet to breathe the soft air and discuss the happenings of the times, probably as full of rumours as they are to-day. Here they walked, and talked of all things under the sun--religion, politics, and the latest news from the "front." Before them lay the Sea of Marmora joining on to the Bosphorus, and swift-sailing vessels would hurry in with news from some distant province of the Empire. To-day the warships of the European Powers watch over the interests of their nationals in the death-struggle of an ancient Empire, many of them infants, some unthought of when Constantinople was guarding Europe from Asiatic agression, thus enabling those nations whose warships lie here to develop. Yet among the cypress groves of Seraglio Point, with the waves of the glittering Sea of Marmora lazily lapping against the tottering sea-walls, it was impossible not to let the mind wander among the misty labyrinths of ancient history, though Bulgarian guns were making history some fifty miles away. Historic pageants pass before the mind's eye: an emperor moving amid pomp and splendour to meet his bride-elect at the sea-gate of Eugenius, down by the Golden Horn. Here Cæsar with elaborate ceremony would invest the lady with the Imperial buskins, and other insignia of her exalted rank. They pass like a dream, and dark clouds settle down on Constantinople, obscuring the brightness of the sun of Cæsar; rumours of defeat whisper among the marble columns of the Atrium, oversounding the officially heralded tidings of victory. So it is to-day, so it was when the old enemy of the Greeks, the Turk, demanded alliance between the house of Othman and the Eastern Empire through the marriage of an Imperial Princess with Amurath I. And that did not appease the enemy, for he came again, and finally made the Imperial City his own, and hence governed Christian peoples. Mohammed the Conqueror centred the life of his nation in the City of Constantine, and chose this promontory for his own residence. He separated a space of eight furlongs by a wall across the promontory, and in this triangle he built his seraglio. Strange scenes were witnessed here; one of the strangest happened shortly after the conquest of the City. The remnant of Greeks gathered together again and returned to the City in crowds, on being assured of their lives, their liberties, and the free exercise of their religion. To solemnize this pact the Sultan held an investiture on old Byzantine lines, with all accustomed pomp and ceremony, and thus re-instated the Patriarch of Greek Orthodoxy. With his own hands the Conqueror placed in the hands of Gennodius the crozier or pastoral staff, the symbol of his priestly office. His Holiness was then conducted to the gate of the Seraglio, presented with a richly caparisoned horse, and led by viziers and pashas to the palace appointed as his residence. This happened within the Seraglio walls! The successor to the throne of many Cæsars, the Conqueror whose hands were red with the blood of massacred Christians, the victorious leader of that fanatic race whose life is more influenced by their creed than perhaps that of any other people, raised the Patriarch, the chosen head of a conquered Christian community, to high office in the state. Thus the Greek Orthodox variant of the Christian Faith lived on in the City of Constantine the Convert, though the Cross had fallen from the church he had built, St. Sophia, and minarets arose around it from which the muezzin calls pious Moslems to prayer. Mohammed died suddenly in the midst of his soldiers, leaving two sons to contest his vacant throne. The younger, Zizimes, suggested a partition of the Empire, by which he would rule over Anatolia, the Hellespont separating his dominion from that of his brother Bajazet in Europe. But Bajazet would none of it. "The Empire is a bride whose favours cannot be shared," said Bajazet, and Zizimes thought it safer to seek refuge at the Courts of other rulers, mostly Christians, who, however, appeared little disposed to advocate his claims. For the sum of three hundred thousand ducats paid by Bajazet, a servant of Pope Alexander Borgia administered poison to Zizimes; thus was a problem solved in truly Oriental manner. Murder was one of the leading factors in the Imperial policy pursued by the sons of Othman, and has always been resorted to as the best solution of a difficult problem, from earliest days until quite recently. Selim I, son of Bajazet, who abdicated in consequence of his son's constant intrigues against him, had to face a problem, and settled it in the usual manner. Schism has arisen among the followers of the Prophet, and the Shiites repudiated the claim to the Caliphate of Mohammed's immediate successors, Abu-Dekr, Omar, and Othman. For reasons as much political as religious, Selim proclaimed himself champion of Orthodoxy, and celebrated the event by the St. Bartholomew's night of Ottoman history. There were in all some seventy thousand of his subjects who held to the Shiite doctrine in Europe and Asia, forty thousand of these were massacred and the remainder sentenced to perpetual imprisonment. Thus Selim I became Caliph of Islam. The old Seraglio walls and the solemn cypresses seem to tell yet another romantic story attaching to this place. It dates from the days when history was full of the names of great men. Charles V, that sombre Habsburger, ruled an Empire on which the sun never set (according to the opinion of those days), Francis I was the chivalrous King of France, his rival Henry VIII of England, and the influence of Pope Leo X was mighty in the Councils of nations. In those brave days Suleiman I was Sultan, and reigned in great splendour from the seat of Constantine. Suleiman loved a woman, a lovely Russian girl, Khourrem (the "Joyous One"), better known by the name the Christians gave her, Roxalana. Khourrem was a slave, but she obtained her freedom from her imperial lover and induced him to marry her. Thereupon her mind was set on furthering the fortunes of her own children, and Mustapha, the son of Suleiman's former favourite Sultana, a Circassian, stood in the way of her ambition. Mustapha was Governor of Carmania, and Roxalana managed skilfully to insinuate that he was plotting to usurp the throne. Mustapha was recalled, and ordered to enter the Sultan's presence alone; Suleiman, looking on from an inner chamber, saw seven mute executioners carry out his command to strangle his son with a bowstring. Roxalana was buried in all due state near the place where rests her sovereign lord, under the shadow of the mosque he built to his own memory. You will notice a difference in the two mausoleums. To enter that of Suleiman you must take the shoes from off your feet, for this is holy ground; a warrior, almost a saint, lies here. No such reverence is expected by the grave of Roxalana, the "Joyous One"; she was a woman, and therefore had no soul; that makes all the difference. But Roxalana's son, Selim II, broke the laws of the Prophet, and died drunk. The Red Crescent floats over the buildings within the Seraglio enclosure to-day. Thousands of sick and wounded stagger in at the gates, and pass by the Armoury, once the Church of St. Irene, in search of the comforts which Christian nations have in all haste collected to meet the awful consequences of this disastrous war. They gathered in thousands outside the old buildings, leaning up against the walls and the railings of St. Irene, behind which, half-hidden by shrubs, are tombs of long-forgotten Byzantine magnates. There is some doubt in my mind as to who built St. Irene: some attribute it to Leo the Isaurian, who reigned from 718-740; others, and I prefer their version, maintain that Constantine the Great built it at the same time that St. Sophia arose, during the Council of Nicæa, in 325, thus giving his subjects two excellent virtues to emulate--Faith and Wisdom--without committing himself to any narrowing dogma. As this version is the more picturesque, historians will probably declare it wrong, and insist on the authorship of Leo the Isaurian. In the meantime the buildings of the Seraglio enclosure are full of suffering mortality. Thousands have come in from the stricken field, and all the hospitals are crowded. I have visited some of these sick men and wounded, men whom I have seen wandering dejectedly in little groups, or larger bodies, through the ill-paved streets, some falling by the way, and avoided by all, for cholera, the scourge of Asia, was raging in the ranks of the Turkish Army. They are patient, quiet men, these suffering Turkish soldiers, some still wondering why they were torn from their Anatolian homes and sent to fight with unaccustomed arms men whom they did not know of, for a cause they did not understand, and under conditions such as invite disaster. Untrained they went to war, unfed they fought as long as men could hold out, longer probably than would any European troops, starving, sick, in rags, forsaken by their officers, they staggered back into the City, where those responsible for their sufferings still live in lies. Poor souls, with their tired looks, their patient eyes--it was Bairam, their Feast of Pentecost, and many of them were grieving that they could not pass on to their homes and bring little presents to those they hold dear, away there in the scattered villages of Anatolia. And these that had come in were only the slightly wounded, only those who were still able to move. What of those who have been stricken down by cholera on the road? What of those mangled and maimed by shrapnel and splinters of shell, mortally wounded by bullet and bayonet? With no adequate preparations for the sick and wounded here at the base of operations, is it likely that the field hospitals were adequately supplied? Foreigners, Christians, are doing the work now which should have been done before by the Army authorities. It seems as if they, childlike, were only too pleased to shift that burden of responsibility on to other shoulders while they yet prated of victory. Victory? With Thrace conquered by Bulgaria, Macedonia occupied by Serbs, the Montenegrins before Scutari, and Greeks holding Saloniki and Monastir! Victory? With the remnant of the Ottoman Army hard-pressed behind the lines of Chatalja, and thousands dying by the road! As in those May days of 1453, at the Feast of Pentecost, Constantinople awoke from sloth and inefficiency to find an enemy hammering at the gates, so that day, at Bairam, the Turkish Feast of Pentecost, the enemy was hammering at the outer gate, the lines of Chatalja, and this would not have happened but for sloth and inefficiency. In the meantime the hospitals were crowded, here in Constantinople thousands were dying on the road, or lying dead on the fields of Thrace and Macedonia, and the enemy's guns were pounding on the last defences of a "Passing Empire." CHAPTER IV The Mosque of St. Sophia and its beauties, and some legends that attach to it--The present state of its courts--The Sea of Marmora and an historical pageant: Genoese, Venetians, Khairreddin Barbarossa and his victories--The story of stout Sir Thomas Bentinck--The Palace of Justinian and its story: Theophane and her husbands--The Mosque of Achmet--At-meïdan, the former Hippodrome, and its story--Justin, Justinian and Theodora, and the Blues and Greens--Justinian II and his doings--Some reflections on modern history. [Illustration: By the Seraglio Walls Showing the gate by which the Sultans used to enter St. Sophia, and the dome of St. Irene.] Just without the walls of the Seraglio stands a building which above all others is connected with Constantinople in the popular mind, the former Church, now Mosque, of St. Sophia. This is one of those particular monuments of history which every one of any pretension to culture wishes to see. A mighty, imposing building, measuring 255 feet from north to south by 250 from east to west. This was the cathedral church of old Byzantium built in the twentieth year of the reign of Constantine the Great, A.D. 325, and dedicated to Divine Wisdom. Constantine's son Constantius enlarged the building, which was destroyed by fire in the reign of Arcadius, 395-408, in whose time the Goths came down over the hills by Adrianople and devastated the land as far as the Peloponese. It is said that the faction of St. John Chrysostom set fire to this building during one of those religious disturbances which, more than elsewhere in the world, unsettled the minds of men and caused them to overlook the greater truths. Theodosius II, he who built the stout walls that guarded the City of Constantine on the landward side for many centuries, re-erected the cathedral in 415, but little more than a century later, in the reign of Justinian, it fell a victim to the flames again. Twice did this happen in the reign of Justinian, the second time during a revolt of different factions in the Hippodrome, but St. Sophia was rebuilt again in greater splendour and on a larger scale in A.D. 538. This Church of St. Sophia became the scene of many solemn state functions and religious ceremonies, the fumes of incense curled round its many pillars of porphyry from Phrygia--white marble striped rose-red, as with the blood of Atys slain at Synada; of green marble from Laconia, and blue from Lybia. Celtic marble quarries sent their tribute, black with white veins, and from the Bosphorus came white black-veined marble. Among the most beautiful of all these pillars were those eight which Aurelius had taken from the Temple of the Sun at Baalbec. Then there were monuments of gold, cunningly wrought, enriched with the most precious stones, and about all these glories floated hymns of praise or supplication to the God about Whose Triune Person the citizens wrangled and fought in the Hippodrome and in the narrow streets. Legend has it that this work of man's hand was made yet more glorious by angelic influences. An angel appeared to order the work of the ten thousand men engaged in the reconstruction under Justinian; he appeared again, robed in brilliant white, to a boy guarding the masons' tools by night and ordered an immediate continuance of the pious work, and yet a third time to lead the mules of the Treasury into the vaults to be laden with eighty hundredweight of gold wherewith to decorate the sacred fane. One more angel appeared, this time to the Emperor himself, clad in Imperial purple, wearing red shoes, to ordain that the light should fall through three windows upon the High Altar, this in memory of Holy Trinity. On Christmas Day of 548 Emperor Justinian and Eutychius the Patriarch moved to the newly reconstructed sanctuary with all the pomp and ceremony of the Church. No sooner were the doors opened than the Emperor ran in with outstretched arms crying, "God be praised, Who hath esteemed me worthy to complete such a work. Solomon, I have surpassed thee!" Not quite ten centuries later, in May of 1453 at Pentecost, the Patriarch was celebrating High Mass within the walls of St. Sophia, the fumes of incense floated heavenward with the supplications of the people, while the Turk was battering down the stout defences of the city and the Emperor and his followers were falling under the sword of Othman about the ruined ramparts. The Mass was interrupted and has never since been resumed, for from that day to this the Crescent has gleamed on the dome, the High Altar has faced towards Mecca, and from the attendant minarets the imam has called the followers of the Prophet to prayer. To the ancient Christian legends of angels the Turks have added traditions of their own. Near the Mihrab is a window facing north; here Sheik ak Shemseddin, the companion of Mohammed the Conqueror, first expounded the Koran. [Illustration: ROUMELI HISSAR The first fortress built by the Turks on European soil. Built by Mohammed the Conqueror, the ground plan being that monarch's cypher.] In this Feast of Bairam, the Turkish Pentecost, the courts of St. Sophia were crowded with Turkish soldiery, some wounded, others stricken with cholera, and in and out of the upper gate of the Seraglio, through which the Sultan was wont to issue for worship in the Mosque of Sophia, convoys of sick were wending their weary way, soldiers and stores were passing, for the enemy was before the gates--not the old enceinte of the City, but the lines of Chatalja stretching from the Sea of Marmora to the Black Sea--and he was demanding admission in order to complete the High Mass interrupted on that day in May four and a half centuries ago. After sketching a corner of the enclosure of St. Sophia and a bit of the Seraglio wall, over which the graceful cupola of St. Irene appears, a policeman stopped me for the first time in my experience of this city, but he was satisfied with a sight of my passport, which probably conveyed no definite idea to his mind. I went down towards the Sea of Marmora to renew my acquaintance with several historic places and to muse over the strange vicissitudes of this City of Constantine. It was a fine, clear day, unusually warm for November, and the Sea of Marmora shone in myriads of sparkling facets under the midday sun. Strange stories of ancient days came crowding in upon me. I seemed to see the face of the waters veiled by a cloud of swift-sailing vessels. This strange pageant came up out of the south, Genoese, experienced travellers and redoubtable warriors, then Venetians, the only seafarers who ever tried the strength of old Byzantium's sea-walls. In double line they came bearing down upon the walls under Dandolo, the venerable Doge. Sailors leapt from the swifter craft and scaled the walls, while from the heavier ships with turrets and high of poop, and from platforms for the engines of war then in use, drawbridges were lowered to the summit of the walls. Already the standard of St. Mark waved from twenty-five towers and fire drove the Greeks from the adjacent defences. But Dandolo decided to forgo the advantage he had gained and to hasten to assist the exhausted band of Latins who were suffering under the superior numbers of the Greeks before the land-walls. The aspect of affairs was so serious that Alexius, the Emperor, fled with a treasure of some ten thousand pounds to an obscure Thracian harbour, basely deserting his wife and people. Next came Khairreddin, called Barbarossa, High Admiral of Suleiman I. Khairreddin was one of four brothers whose trade was piracy, then a most gentlemanly profession. He and his brother Urudsh first sailed under the flag of the Tunisian Sultan, but paid tribute to Suleiman. They conquered Tunis, Algiers, and all the Barbary coast, and held these provinces in fief. How many of those overseas possessions now owe allegiance to the Porte? Charles V, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, "Deutscher Nation," sent Genoa's greatest admiral, Doria, with a mighty fleet against Khairreddin, but they were dispersed by the eighty-four fast ships of Barbarossa, who scoured the Mediterranean Sea, ravaged the coasts of Italy, Minorca, even distant Spain, beating the combined naval forces of Emperor, Pope, and Venetian Republic, off Prevesa. Khairreddin Barbarossa lies buried on the banks of the Bosphorus. Not long after Barbarossa's day a new sea-power began to make its influence felt; it stretched out feelers towards Constantinople, and when Amurath II was Sultan the Red Cross of St. George was seen for the first time from the sea-walls of Constantinople. English ships came sailing up from the south bearing messages to the Porte from Elizabeth, Queen of England. When Ibrahim ruled over Turkey from 1640-1648 all manner of excesses went unpunished owing to the maladministration of a bad Sultan. Some English ships lying in harbour were plundered. In those days it was the custom for any one who had received an injury from minister or official to place fire on his head and hurry to the palace. Redress for the injury to British ships having been refused by the Porte, Sir Thomas Bentinck brought the ships up from Galata, anchored them below the palace windows, and lighted fires on every yard-arm. This manoeuvre sent the Grand Vizier hurrying to the Ambassador with offers of settlement in full. There was one place I revisited down by the Sea of Marmora which tells of evil deeds done one dark night in the days of old Byzant. It is the Palace of Justinian, by some called after Hormisdas or Hormouz, a Persian prince who sought refuge here with Constantine the Great. A woman of low origin, Theophane, had married Romanus II, the Emperor, a man whose short reign added no lustre to the pages of the Empire's history, for he spent his time in idleness. Theophane tired of her spouse and killed him by poison, and was minded to reign in the name of her two sons Basil and Constantine, one five, the other three years old. But the weight of responsibility was too great for her to bear, and she looked about for a strong man to support her. She found one in Nicephorus Phocas, then accounted the bravest soldier in the land; he was therefore popular with the people. But soon after Theophane had disposed of her first husband, and her second, Nicephorus, had ascended the throne, the fickle population turned from him and gave evidence of their discontent by stoning him. Nicephorus was forced to seek refuge in this Palace of Justinian, which he had strengthened considerably for his own defence against the people of the City. But Fate overtook him, coming from the Sea of Marmora. One winter's night in 963, when the gates of the palace were locked and bolted, the windows barred, and as additional precaution the Emperor had moved from the room he generally occupied into a smaller chamber, a boat was made fast at the foot of the palace steps. Headed by John Zimisces, Theophane's lover, a band of assassins entered the palace, they were joined by others hiding in the Empress's chamber; with much cruelty and insult they put Nicephorus Phocas to death. To-day as the visitor to Constantinople looks out to the Sea of Marmora over the seaward walls he may see the smoke of foreign warships curling upward--by the Asiatic coast a French warship, the sunlight glinting on her many round turrets, some way towards south-west the long hull of a British cruiser against the sky, and further towards the west yet another foreign vessel, Austrian, moving slowly, watching events by the lake at the southern ends of the lines of Chatalja; for history is in the making here, the enemy is before the gates, Turks and Bulgarians, with them Serbs, are fighting for a settlement of long outstanding accounts. [Illustration: A Deserted Street Weary soldiers, sick and slightly wounded, trudged past up to the mosque erected by Suleiman to commemorate his many victories.] Leaving the ruined Palace of Justinian I made my way up towards the hill on which stands the Mosque of Achmed, which rises so proudly with its six minarets above the little houses that cluster on the slope. I passed through more ruins on my way, not remains of ancient Byzant, but the results of one of the numerous fires to which Stamboul is well accustomed, and which it is so ill fitted to control. It was a peaceful spot, and quite deserted but for a very small boy who entertained me with an imitation of a railway engine engaged in shunting, a manoeuvre of which whistling was the chief feature. We were not alone for long ere another body of weary soldiers, sick and slightly wounded, trudged past us up to the mosque erected by Suleiman to commemorate his many victories. He it was who carried the Crescent triumphant through Hungary to the gates of Vienna, leaving behind him Serbs and Bulgars in slavery. Those very nations have been trying the power of the Porte beyond the walls and are longing to enter; it is they who have reduced those Turkish soldiers to their present state of misery. The possessions on the southern littoral of the Mediterranean Sea, which Khairreddin Barbarossa added to Suleiman's dominions, have been wrenched from the feeble grasp of his successor, and the courtyard of the great Sultan's mosque is crowded with refugees from Thrace and Macedonia, provinces won by the sword, lost by the sword, and the soldiers sent to defend them are now resting, sick and wounded, in the shadow of the Suleimanyeh. Through the gratings of the enclosing wall of the Suleimanyeh refugees and soldiers look out at the passersby on to a large space, the theatre of many scenes in the history of ancient Byzant. Little they know, little they care, for such matters, for their troubles are very present. The refugees have had to leave their homesteads in Thrace and Macedonia, taking with them their most treasured belongings, leaving the fruits of harvest to the invaders. It is said that fear of their own soldiery rather than of the enemy compelled them to flee. Fathers, husbands, and sons of these refugees are among the sick and wounded. One case I know of where a wounded soldier just discharged from hospital set out to find his family, which he heard had migrated to Asia Minor. Whither they have gone he knows not at all, but he has set out on his search, and in his pocket only a dollar, but his heart full of trust in Allah. Suleiman built his mosque and its enclosure on part of the former Hippodrome, and its erection covered a space of five years, from 1550-1555. St. Sophia was taken as model, and relics of the Greek Empire went to its construction. It looks down on an open space, all that remains of the ancient Hippodrome, At-meïdan, as it is now called. Several ancient monuments stand here dating from the time of the Greek Emperors--the obelisk of Egyptian granite, a four-cornered shaft some fifty feet high, brought from Heliopolis and set up by the Emperor Theodosius; the remains more curious still of the column of the Three Serpents, of bronze and about fifteen feet in height. The serpents seem to grow out of the ground, but the illusion is rather spoilt by the fact that they have lost their heads; one of them at least is said to have been struck off by Mohammed the Conqueror. This column has had an eventful history; it is said to have been taken by the Greeks from the Persians at the battle of Platæa, 479 B.C., and kept at Delphi, dedicated to the Oracle, until the time of Pausanias. Constantine the Great then had it removed to his City, and set it up where it now stands. Among the memories that haunt At-meïdan, the Hippodrome of old Byzant, are strongest those of the days of Justinian and Theodora his wife. Justinian, nephew of Justin, a simple Dacian who rose step by step to the Imperial Purple, he and his contemporary Theodoric, King of Italy, were illiterate, a strange thing in those days when learning was no uncommon thing among all classes. Justin sent to Dacia for his nephew to train him for high Imperial office, and trained him well during the nine years of his reign. So on the death of Justin, Justinian inherited the throne, and with his many advantages should have proved successful. He was comely of face and of great bodily strength, full of the best intentions and restless in pursuit of knowledge; the wars he undertook he brought to a happy issue, and the laws he framed should have won the gratitude of his people. Yet they loved not Justinian, and by some this is ascribed to Theodora his wife: Theodora, the actress, the dancer, Justinian's Empress! Two factions, Blue and Green, influenced the fortunes of Constantinople in those days. The Green faction employed one Acacius as keeper of the wild beasts for their games; he was Theodora's father. On his death the mother brought Theodora and her sisters to the theatre, where they appeared in the garb of supplicants. The Green faction received them with contempt, by the Blue faction they were kindly entreated, so Theodora favoured that colour ever after. The details of Theodora's life as actress, dancer, need not concern us; a son was born to her during this period of her existence. Many years later the father of the child, when dying, told him: "Your mother is an Empress." The son of Theodora hastened to Constantinople, hurried to the palace to present himself, and was never seen again. For a while Theodora lived in seclusion in Alexandria, then she had a vision which told her that she was destined to wear the Imperial Purple; she returned to Constantinople, won Justinian's love, and verified the vision's prophecy. Another Justinian, second of that name, played his short part in the history of Byzant, in scenes enacted in the Hippodrome. In all things different from his great predecessor, for he was feeble of intellect and unable to control his passions, neither was he faithful to his wife, another Theodora, whose love saved his life when her brother, the Khan of the Chazars, bribed by Byzantine gold, sought to take it. This Justinian ruled with great cruelty, through the hands of his favourite ministers, and succeeded by their aid in braving the growing hatred of his subjects. A sudden impulse, rather than any sense of the justice he habitually outraged, led him to liberate one Leontius, a general of great renown, who had suffered unjust imprisonment for several years. Leontius, raised to honour and appointed Governor of Greece, headed a conspiracy which resulted in the populace breaking open the prisons and releasing many innocent sufferers from the Emperor's injustice. Then in their thousands an excited populace swarmed to the Church of St. Sophia, where the Patriarch, taking as text for his sermon, "This is the day of the Lord," still further inflamed the passions of the mob. They crowded into the Hippodrome, dragged Justinian before the insurgent judges, who clamoured for his immediate death. But Leontius, already clothed in the Purple, was merciful to the son of his former master and friend; so Justinian, the scion of so many Emperors, was deposed and, slightly mutilated about the face, banished to the Crimea. Here Justinian waited for revenge while Constantinople's fickle population revolted from Leontius and placed Apsimar, as Emperor Tiberius, on the throne. But he failed to satisfy the mob, and so when Justinian appeared before the City walls and besieged his own capital with a Bulgarian army the citizens opened the gates and re-instated him. So the Hippodrome witnessed Justinian's return to power. He sat on his throne watching the chariot race, one foot on the neck of each captive usurper Leontius and Apsimar in chains, while the fickle people shouted in the words of the Psalmist: "Thou shalt trample on the asp and basilisk, and on the lion and the dragon shalt thou set thy foot." On the conclusion of the games Leontius and Apsimar were led away to execution. [Illustration: The Mosque of St. Sophia Refugees from Thrace, seeking shelter in the courtyard of the Mosque of Achmet. In the background the Mosque of St. Sophia.] These are some of the strange scenes which the Hippodrome has witnessed ere the Turk crowned his conquests by the taking of Constantinople. Here overlooking one end of At-meïdan, where the Janissaries used to exercise their horses, is the building which contains many relics of that famous corps; the Janissaries are no more, for, like the Prætorian guard, they became a danger to their sovereign. Here on At-meïdan the Ottoman Exhibition was held in 1863. How many changes have taken place in Europe since those days when Abdul Aziz was Sultan! The uncalled-for Crimean War was scarcely at an end and Turkey's European possessions showed a tendency towards disruption, but things went very well for all that, and no one among the general public noticed the rise of a great Power in the north. The year following saw Prussia master of Schleswig-Holstein, two years from then Austria had been beaten and the southern German States forced into union by the same Power. Then by the time another four or five years had passed, the French Empire fell, and the German Empire became an accomplished fact. Roumania, Servia, Bulgaria have become kingdoms independent of the Sublime Porte; Bosnia and Herzegovina are no longer Turkish provinces, neither does Tripolitana form part of the Ottoman Empire any longer. Over Macedonia and Thrace the Slav enemies of Turkey, formerly that country's vassals, fly their victorious colours. Montenegro has occupied part of the Adriatic coast, the Hellenes have seized Saloniki, and foreign warships have landed their contingents in Constantinople. Beyond the walls of the City which Mohammed conquered Bulgarians and Slavs are clamouring for admittance; within the walls the beaten Osmanli troops fill the hospitals, crowd the enclosures of mosques erected by conquering Sultans, and die daily by hundreds from neglected wounds, from sickness, above all from that dread Asiatic scourge, cholera. CHAPTER V The modern crusade, and that of Johann Capistran--Christians in the ranks of the Ottoman Army--The religious life of Constantinople--Theodosius I and his creed--St. John Chrysostom and the Empress Eudoxia--The piety of Theodosius II--The Armenian Church--The Greek Patriarchate and the Phanar--The Teutons and Rome--Papal interference in Constantinople--The advance of the Balkan nations: Bulgars, Serbs, Montenegrins, and Greeks. At the outbreak of hostilities in the Balkan Peninsula we had it from the lips of a king that this is a crusade, a holy war, a war against the Pagan intruder into Europe, which must end in his subjection and eviction from our Christian continent. Such sentiments from a monarch who, brought up in one Christian dogma, has chosen another variant of our Faith for his children, can have no other effect than to raise the present war to a much higher level than the wars of former days, which were waged unblushingly to gain some national advantage, to acquire territory, or even merely to flatter national vanity. No, this is a very different war, and informed of the same spirit, so we are told, which moved the Crusaders in their thousands down the Danube to the Holy Land. Those pious warriors passed through Constantinople, honoured the place with a lengthy stay, and, I regret to say, were not sufficiently appreciated by the Eastern Emperors and their people. The same spirit, called forth by Johann Capistran, led noble Hungarians, the chivalry of Servia, and hosts of Bulgarians to meet the Crescent on the Amselfeld at Kossovo, and Eastern Europe went under in a sea of blood. Now this latest crusade is drawing to a close, and the rejuvenated nations of the Balkans have in their turn humbled the Crescent and brought the Cross back to before the walls of Constantinople. What matter that there are numbers of Christians in the ranks of the Ottoman Army? The war is a crusade--we have it on the best authority. Those Christians in the ranks of the Ottoman Army have also suffered for their faith, for invidious Moslems have been inclined to attribute the disaster which overtook the Sultan's Army to the fact that he had been induced to make soldiers of them, whereas, as every true follower of the Prophet knows, Islam is the only creed for a warrior. Again and again those Christian soldiers of the Sultan have been accused of cowardice, of deserting to the enemy in great numbers; no ingenious calumny has been spared to prove that they gave the reason for the debacle, and that but for their presence the Crescent would be gleaming over Sofia again, and again facing Austria-Hungary across Danube and Save. As a matter of fact, reliable informants have told me, the Christian soldiers of the Sultan did uncommonly well, and were even from time to time deserted by their Moslem comrades. If religious matters had to do with the defeats sustained by the Turkish Army, it is more probably the case that pious Moslems felt the authority of the Sultan, the head of their faith, undermined by recent changes, by the admission of non-believers into offices of state, and this led to a despondency which from time to time broke out in panic. One night, it was told me, a Turkish soldier awoke from a nightmare and fled, crying, "The Bulgars are on us!" though there were none in the immediate neighbourhood. The men of his section took alarm and followed him; the company followed--the battalion--brigade, till the whole division was running away in nameless terror before a purely imaginary enemy. Religion has ever played a leading part in the history of Constantinople, may even be said to have been responsible for its existence, for Byzas, in carrying out the Oracle's dark instructions, merely followed his religious instincts. Of Constantine the Great it is not necessary to say much; the beautiful story of his conversion to Christianity is one of the earliest of such apocryphal addenda to the story of the Church of Christ as taught us in our infancy. [Illustration: The Aqueduct of Valens Valens the Emperor was killed in battle by the Goths at Adrianople. His aqueduct stands out strangely among wooden houses, connecting the seven hills on which stands Stamboul.] Constantine was the first Augustus to be baptized, and he was followed by Valens, who, as far as is known, worshipped the fast-fading deities of ancient Rome. We shall meet Valens again at Adrianople--there are few traces left of him here in Constantinople, only the aqueduct he built. It stands out strangely among wooden houses, connecting the seven hills on which stands Stamboul. Valens was followed by another great Emperor, Theodosius I. Theodosius, though born of Christian parents, did not embrace Christianity until towards the end of the first year of his reign, when a severe illness carried conviction to the Imperial mind. Before he took the field against the Goths, Acholius, Bishop of Thessalonica, baptized him, and so Theodosius became a Christian--a stout, full-blooded one at that. Once convinced of the beauty of the faith, and sure of the unfailing aid the Church afforded, Theodosius acted as a soldier and a convert would. He had found the sure haven of his soul, and all his people must also be led into the right way. There was no room for "saucy doubts and fears" in the breast of Emperor Theodosius. On ascending from the font he issued an edict to his people which is worth giving word for word: "It is our pleasure that all the nations which are governed by our clemency and moderation should steadfastly adhere to the religion which was taught by St. Peter to the Romans, which faithful tradition has preserved, and which is now professed by the Pontiff of Damascus, and by Peter, Bishop of Alexandria, a man of apostolic holiness. According to the discipline of the Apostles and the doctrine of the Gospel, let us believe the sole Deity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, under an equal Majesty and a pious Trinity. We authorize the followers of this doctrine to assume the title of Catholic Christians, and as we judge that all others are extravagant madmen, we brand them with the infamous name of heretics, and declare that their conventicles shall no longer usurp the respectable appellation of churches. Besides the condemnation of Divine Justice, they must expect to suffer the severe penalties which our authority, guided by heavenly wisdom, shall think proper to inflict upon them." So we find little encouragement in Constantinople of those days of any kind of nonconformity, or any doxy save that of the Emperor himself. Nevertheless, in matters of religion, Constantinople may be said to have done more than any other centre of national life. For forty years, from 340-380, this was the centre of Arianism, and was also open to all manner of strange doctrines, coming from every province of the Empire, and this worried Theodosius very much. The polemics that raged round the name and nature of Holy Trinity exasperated the soldier Theodosius, so he determined to settle the matter once and for all. He convened a synod of one hundred and fifty bishops to complete the theological system established in the Council of Nicæa. The council managed, wisely, to arrive at a conclusion satisfactory to the Emperor, so at least his mind was set at rest on a vexed question. Peace was not, for with a people like the Greeks and others who lived in Constantinople, fond of all manner of disputations, any idea of uniformity was hopeless; nevertheless there were endless councils, conferences, synods, which probably only served to aggravate the many controversies. Out of the chaos of ideas and ideals one form or another would rise and stand out above his fellows; of these, perhaps, no one is better known than John, called by the people "Golden Mouth," Chrysostom. He came from Antioch with a great reputation as a preacher, and that under somewhat unusual circumstances. Eutropius, Prime Minister of Arcadius, the young Emperor, had heard and admired the sermons of John Chrysostom when on a journey in the East. Fearful lest the flock at Antioch might be unwilling to resign their favourite preacher, the minister sent a private order to the Governor of Syria, and the divine was transported with great speed and secrecy to Constantinople. The new Archbishop made his influence felt at once, and his teachings gave rise to several factions, some in his favour, others against him, all delighted at new food for controversy. Chrysostom was hot-tempered, which led him to express disapproval of wrong-doing in unmeasured terms, unsociable, in consequence of which he lost touch with his surroundings. So it came about that he was surprised by an ecclesiastical conspiracy. Theophilus, Archbishop of Alexandria, had arrived by invitation of the Empress Eudoxia, and had brought with him a number of independent bishops sufficient to secure him a majority in the synod. Theophilus had taken the further precaution of bringing with him a strong escort of Egyptian sailors to keep the refractory populace in order. The synod brought various charges against Chrysostom, who declined to attend the meeting, and was therefore condemned in default for contumacious disobedience and sentenced to be deposed by this august body. Chrysostom was hurriedly conveyed into exile at the entrance of the Black Sea, but was recalled before many days had passed, for his faithful flock had risen, slain without mercy the crowd of monks and Egyptian mariners in the streets of the City, roared and rioted round the palace gates in waves of sedition, that Chrysostom had to be recalled to restore order. He returned in triumph; but he was no courtier, and his zeal outran discretion, so the Empress had him banished again, this time to Mount Taurus, and then further away to the desert of Pityas, but he died on his way thither in his sixtieth year. Thirty years later, in 438, Theodosius II went over to Chalcedon to meet the remains of John Chrysostom, which were being brought from the first obscure burial-place to Constantinople. Falling prostrate on the coffin, the Emperor implored forgiveness for his guilty parents, Arcadius and Eudoxia. Of the many sects thrown up by religious controversy few have survived to this day, but of these one is remarkable in many ways--the Armenian Church. The Armenians are an Indo-European people, living in Great and Little Armenia, an elevated plateau, from which the principal mountains, rivers, and valleys of Western Asia diverge, a plateau some 7000 feet above the sea in places, and rising to its greatest height of 17,260 feet in Mount Ararat, now in Russian territory. No doubt it is a great satisfaction to the Armenians to have that holy mountain in their native land, though I do not think that undue pride over this interesting feature has kept them apart from others of the Christian faith. They took to it very readily during the reign of Constantius, and during the years when the Eastern Empire was still mighty in Asia maintained their connection with the See at Constantinople. But their country was peculiarly liable to be swamped by alien races, and constant disorders during the many centuries when the Eastern Empire was falling to pieces alienated them from the original fold. Again, their clergy were generally ignorant of the Greek tongue, so they ceased attending synods, and thus widened the rift, so that, as they did not attend the Council of Chalcedon, they came to be considered as schismatics, and have long had a Patriarch in Constantinople, who watches over the interests of his flock. His is a very difficult position, for ever since there has been an Armenian problem no other means of solving it has ever suggested itself to the Porte than that of wholesale massacre--there is an Armenian problem, therefore kill the Armenians; simple, thoroughly Oriental, and not to the taste of Europe, whose protests, however, have never been as loud over Armenian outrages as when some national trade interest is affected. Nevertheless Armenians have stayed on as useful citizens and subjects of Sultans who showed to them less consideration than to any others of the numerous races which live under the Porte's peculiar jurisdiction; they are advancing in wealth, education, and political importance, and are likely to play an important part in the future of Asia Minor. It is said that the Armenians might have made common cause with the Greeks, and thus assisted towards the deliverance from Turkish yoke which seems to have been brought at last by the arms of the twentieth-century crusaders, who swarmed over the passes of the Balkans and down the Valley of the Maritza only a month or so ago. The Armenians, instead of accomplishing unity by means of their synod, seem to have frittered away their strength in small committees, probably discussing side issues with great earnestness and leaving great questions unsolved, as is frequently the case in the deliberations of such bodies. [Illustration: On the way to the Phanar A picturesque street thronged with the usual crowd of leisurely wayfarers.] Ever since the earliest days of Christianity Constantinople has been the seat of a Father of the Church. His importance increased as the Empire flourished, and he soon was styled Patriarch, a title which has never been relinquished, an office which has never been in abeyance but for those few days between the triumphal entry of Mohammed the Conqueror and the Patriarch's reinstatement by that monarch. The buildings which serve as head-quarters for the Patriarch of Greek Orthodoxy in Constantinople stand overlooking the upper reaches of the Golden Horn at the Phanar, and have no great beauty to distinguish them from their surroundings. The cathedral church is small, and the only thing which impressed me in it is the cathedra itself. Not long ago I had the honour of being presented to His Holiness the late Patriarch. A friend and I made our way to the Phanar, through picturesque streets, thronged with the usual crowd of leisurely wayfarers; vines festooned from one side to the other, and in places affording shade from the searching rays of the sun, but at the same time condensing the mingled, varied odours inseparable from life in the East, and which, no doubt, contribute to its indefinable charm. The Phanar is a quarter formerly occupied by those Greeks whose duties brought them in closer contact with the Imperial Court of Byzant; they lived in stone houses that clustered round the Phanar, the lighthouse, at the foot of the heights, where stood palaces of princes, churches, and barracks of the Imperial Guards, and whence the walls defending the City from attack by land draw their rugged lines down to the Golden Horn. We were shown into a long room, hung round with indifferent portraits of former Patriarchs, and introduced by one of the most prominent lay members of the Holy Synod, a gentleman to whom, I fancy, the Greeks of Turkey in Europe owe a debt of gratitude. His Holiness received us most graciously, conversed amiably on many questions, and all went very well till he had a look at the sketch I had taken of him. "As it has not succeeded I will give you a photograph of myself," said His Holiness, and I am the proud possessor of a signed photograph of this the latest successor of a long line of ecclesiastical potentates. Nevertheless, I consider my sketch a good likeness, and my opinion is not based on conceit alone, but is endorsed by others qualified to judge. [Illustration: HIS HOLINESS JOACHIM III Patriarch of the Orthodox Church at Constantinople.] It is sad to reflect that Christianity, even from the earliest days, has strayed so far from the leading precept of its Founder. The Church in all ages, among all nations, proclaimed Him "Prince of Peace," then incited her followers to take up arms in defence of dogma, ritual, never dreamt of by the Christ. The different peoples which were enabled to divide into groups in accord with racial ambition were used as tools by prelates of the East and West to add to their own importance, to enhance their own prestige. The West drew to it strong Germanic races who, sword in hand, helped to gather the broken remnants of the Latin races into the fold of the Western See; these subtler Latin races, never quite freed from the worship of their forebears, never entirely abandoning the worship of the gods of old, of Isis and Osiris, gained for a space ascendancy over the simpler, purer Teutons, and made the power of the Roman Pontiff possible. Revolts there were many, when the strong, persistent Germanic intellect developed, and tried to free itself from spiritual thraldom. Until the days of Luther, such stirrings were countered by a short shrift and a blazing pyre for the offender. Luther's theses, nailed to the door of Wittenberg Cathedral, marked the straining of the cords that bound northern races to the Southern See, and led nations to give rein to their ambitions, striving to attain them throughout a war of thirty years. Even then the fight was indecisive, and the "Kultur Kampf," against which Bismarck, the Iron Chancellor, battled with but qualified success, occupies the mind and tends to check the spiritual development of modern Germany. The people of the Eastern Empire centred in Constantinople in those days, far beyond the intellectual limitations of the West, could not be expected to submit to the spiritual authority of a Roman Pontiff, especially as the Roman Empire of the West had gone under before its barbarian foes, whereas the Roman Empire of the East yet held sway over many distant provinces conquered by Roman arms. The Eastern and the Western world were seldom in complete accord; the bonds that united them in earliest days were frail, and could only be made to hold when in the hands of a strong man like Constantine the Great. The Western Empire's fall enhanced the greatness of the Eastern Empire, and thus was paved the way to separation in matters of religion. The intellectual pride of the Greeks would not submit to any dictation on the subject of Christian doctrine from the West, and Roman ambition would not allow outlying communities to formulate new doctrines nor to revise old ones. It needed a small pretext to bring about schism, and that pretext was not long wanting. About the middle of the ninth century Photius, a layman, Captain of the Guards, was promoted by merit and favour to the office of Patriarch of Constantinople. In ecclesiastical knowledge and purity of morals he was equally well qualified for this high office. But Ignatius, his predecessor, who had abdicated, still had many supporters, and these appealed to Pope Nicholas I, one of the proudest, most ambitious of the Roman Pontiffs, who welcomed an opportunity of judging and condemning his rival of the East. But the Greeks resented the interference, and after many intrigues Photius emerged triumphant, and reconciliation between the two Churches was made more difficult than ever. After about two centuries of unseemly wrangling and bitter recriminations, Papal legates came to Constantinople in 1054 and laid a bull of excommunication against the Patriarch upon the altar of St. Sophia. It will be readily understood that the Crusades, organized under the auspices of the Church of Rome, were not looked upon with favour by the Eastern Emperors and Patriarchs who, however much they bickered between themselves, showed a united front to outsiders. It is therefore not surprising that the Eastern Empire lent but half-hearted support to the crusading Western nations, and that, when that Empire was in turn threatened from the East, its appeals to Western Christianity fell on deaf ears. This made the path of Osmanli conquerors all the smoother. To-day we are faced with a new crusade, Eastern Christians, members of the Orthodox Church, carrying the Cross against the Crescent. They have met with hardly any but that somewhat overrated "moral" support from Western Christians. Montenegrins came down from their Black Mountains, all available fighting men of a population of some 250,000, and fiercely fought for an ideal. Servia, out of a population of about 3,000,000, sent an army as strong and as well-found as the much-vaunted expeditionary force of Great Britain over the mountain-passes into Macedonia. Meeting with stubborn resistance, suffering checks, they pressed on, and now hold lands which once formed part of Servia when, for a short time, it was a great Empire, and had its capital at Üsküb, which King Peter's army entered in triumph some short time ago. Then the Hellenes, under the Crown Prince Constantinos, name borne by several Greek Emperors, came up from the south, and smarting under the memory of former reverses, fought their way over the mountains into Macedonia, and have occupied Saloniki. Here, again, is a small nation of barely 3,000,000 sending an army of near 100,000 into the field. Then from the north, in irresistible force, came the hosts of Ferdinand, Tsar of all the Bulgarians. His forces were reckoned at 300,000 when they crossed over the border, and this number was taken from an industrious, thriving population of little more than 4,000,000 souls. Numbers as yet untold have fallen in battle, others have succumbed to disease and the hardships of war, but what remains are loudly clamouring for admission to Tsarigrad, the Castle of Cæsar, where all these sons of the Greek Orthodoxy, though of different nations, hope to reunite in worship at Santa Sophia. And while these deeds have been doing, Eastern and Western Christianity have been gazing unfriendly at each other. A great Power which adheres to the Church of Rome is looking with disfavour upon the successes gained by these young nations, and diplomacy, which has hitherto failed woefully in its endeavours to maintain peace, is now put to it to prevent another appeal to the arbitrament of arms, and this time of a nature that will make the present war seem but an advanced-guard action. In the meanwhile, with this danger threatening, the part played by Turkey in Europe seems almost incidental only, albeit this great Power is passing from Europe to its native Asia, shorn by a sudden, violent storm of all its old possessions but that narrow corner, fenced off from the onslaught by the lines of Chatalja. CHAPTER VI Religious institutions of old Byzant--The rise of monasticism--The conversion of the Bulgarians by Cyril--The spread of Islam towards Constantinople--The attacks of the Saracens and their conquests elsewhere--The decline of the Arab Caliphate and the rise of the House of Othman--The Mosque of Eyub and the sword of Othman--The Turk and his habits--The Mosque of Mohammed--Little St. Sophia--Achmet and the dogs of Constantinople, and the new regime's dealings with the same problem. As was only natural in a community so devoted to all manner of religious observances, such as the Greeks of Byzantium, monasticism made great headway and filled Constantinople with religious institutions of that order. Probably the idea first came to Europe from Africa, via the city of many churches, not long after the days of Anthony of Thebais, in the fourth century. Anthony was an illiterate youth who, suddenly seized with a desire to do penance for some wickedness (let us hope real rather than fancied), distributed his patrimony, left his kith and kin, and retired to a ruined tower among the tombs on the banks of the Nile. Perhaps he found this spot too sociable, for he wandered away into the desert east of the Nile, some three days' march, and commenced his seclusion in a lonely spot which offered him shade and water. But Anthony's repose was soon disturbed by numbers of others to whom had spread the fame of his sanctity, and they joined him as disciples in the wilderness, and no doubt in the beauty of holiness. Anthony lived long enough, one hundred and five years it is said, to start a considerable body of anchorites. The notion soon spread to Europe, and Constantinople took it up with enthusiasm; monasteries and convents sprang up in all directions, and soon became either popular resorts of penitent princes, statesmen, or others who wished to obtain some reputation for holiness to enable them to restart their old life with a clean sheet, or else the enforced retreat of emperors and empresses, patriarchs, and courtiers who had fallen from favour and were removed with more or less ceremony from the scene of their former activities. There was a monastery of St. George of Mangane near Seraglio Point, where John Cantacuzene took up his abode after abdication. I have told you of Empress Irene who went into the seclusion of a convent she had built on Prince's Island. Holy men went from their monastic institutions into the countries of the Empire's heathen neighbours and made many converts. Cyril and Methodius were called to Bulgaria and converted Boris, the King, who sent his son Simeon to be educated at Constantinople. Many more Bulgarian youths followed, and it became customary to go to Constantinople in search of learning and the refinements of life. This practice continues to-day, and Robert College, an American foundation, standing high on the European bank of the Bosphorus above Roumeli Hissar, has trained many young Bulgars to a useful life. Among these was M. Gueshof, the present Prime Minister of Bulgaria, whose skill assists Tsar Ferdinand in piloting the fortunes of his kingdom through the troubled political waters of these days. While the religious life of Constantinople was working out its destiny, while members of various monastic orders forgot the first precepts of their Master and plunged into all manner of political intrigue, a new and powerful creed had arisen in Asia and was drawing thousands out of darkness to the red glare of a militant faith. Islam was spreading ever nearer the coasts of Europe in a solid, devoted body, while Christians of the East were frittering away their strength in political discussions, thus paving the way for the conquest of a large part of Europe by the hosts of Othman inspired by a simple faith, and Constantinople fell. In vain the crusade organized by Pope Urban, the Eastern bulwark of Christianity was doomed. To-day the sons of Othman are in like case as were the Christians of the Greek Empire before 1453. They have assumed, but not assimilated, Western ideas, and in so doing have departed from the faith wherein lay their strength, have undermined the religious pre-eminence of their Lord the Sultan, and have brought a misunderstood version of advanced Western philosophy to a people inherently incapable of understanding anything but the fundamental facts that Allah is great, that Mohammed is the Prophet of Allah, and that his word is a law from which no man dare depart if he would enter into happiness after death. The first to bring the Crescent up to the walls of Constantinople were swarms of fiery Saracens, who came up under clouds of lateen sails over the blue waters of the Sea of Marmora and laid fierce siege to the City. They came first in the seventh century and forty-six years after the flight of the Prophet from Mecca. Urged by their warlike faith, the Arabs had found conquest rapid and easy of achievement since they issued from the desert; they carried their triumphant ensigns to the banks of the Indus and the snow-capped peaks of the Pyrenees and thought themselves invincible. By the middle of the seventh century they had conquered Phoenicia, the countries watered by the Euphrates, Judæa, Syria, and all Egypt, Cyprus, and Rhodes, and had overrun the Iberian Peninsula from Africa. The richest prize they coveted was Constantinople, but they tried its strength in vain, and had to retire baffled. The Arabs transmitted their creed to a young race which had come out of Tartary, and laid thereby the foundation of the Ottoman Empire when Arab dominion was declining. The fortunes of the young race, the Turks, were very varied, but they were at last able to assist Caliph Motassem, who was no longer able to find among his own people those martial qualities which had led to Arab conquests. Fifty thousand Turks entered the military service of the Caliph, and they in time came to assume power and a decisive voice in the Government, like the Prætorian Guard before them, and the Janissaries of Constantinople and Mamelukes of Egypt since. The Arab Caliphate dwindled into decay, making way for a Turkish dynasty, and so when Alexius Comnenus was Emperor of the East he was forced to acknowledge Suleiman as master of Asia Minor. Othman, Osman, son of Erthogrul, succeeded in 1288, and to him is due the rise of the Ottoman Power. He roused the enthusiasm of his followers by proclaiming that a Divine Mission inspired him to carry the Crescent out to westward, and so he moved victorious over the last Asiatic possessions of the Eastern Empire. Where he came he conquered, and by the beginning of the fourteenth century nearly all Asia Minor was held by the Osmanli, and the Christians of Constantinople were becoming aware of the danger that threatened their religious and political existence. The sword of Othman and his victorious banner passed to Orchan, his son, and with them these words of advice: "Be just, love goodness, and show mercy. Give the same protection to all thy subjects, and extend the faith of thy fathers." This advice was followed by Orchan, and he too carried the Crescent victorious nearer and nearer to the Eastern bulwark of Christianity, Constantinople. Here at Eyub, in the mosque by the Sweet Waters of Europe, the sword of Othman and his banner are kept in reverent state and serve religious purpose, for every succeeding Sultan is girt with this sword, an act corresponding to the crowning of a Christian king, amid the prayers of his people: "May he be as good as Othman." [Illustration: The Mosque of Suleiman Built by this Sultan to commemorate his many victories. Flights of white pigeons hover round this shrine, and pious Moslems seldom pass by without buying some food for them from hawkers who have pitched their business here.] To-day grey threatening clouds are passing over the Mosque of Eyub, where these sacred relics of a warrior race are kept; the brightness that sparkles on the Sweet Waters of Europe which flow into the Golden Horn at this place has vanished under the dull pall of a saddened sky, against which the dark cypresses stand like mourners among the graves of the faithful who are buried round this sacred spot. The gilt crescent on dome and minaret no longer sends answering flashes to the sun that has shone for centuries over the shrine that holds these relics of a fighting race of sovereigns. To many here in this City the sky is overcast, the prospect dark and cloudy, for the Crescent has been waning where it was once supreme, in the countries of Eastern Europe, and the crusade called by the kings of former subject people has reached the outer defences of Stamboul, but fifty miles from the Mosque of Eyub the favourite disciple of the Prophet. The fate of the City is yet undecided, for the arms of Othman have met with reverse after reverse, and no one can say whether recent attempts at implanting Western philosophy on an Eastern creed has left enough of Islam's virility to defend the last foothold of the Turks on Europe. Here in Stamboul, where stand so many mosques of conquerors, where the Christian churches of the Eastern Empire have been converted into mosques, there is among some a dread uncertainty as to the future. In the bazaars and the narrow streets Turks and Greeks, Armenians and Kurds, Arabs, Georgians, full-blooded negroes, go about their business with the utmost unconcern, as if Europe were not face to face with epoch-making changes which affect the Ottoman Empire in Europe, and especially this City, its heart. Yet here in Constantinople, so full of memories of the great Christian Empire which shielded Europe's development against the Pagan armies of the East for so many centuries, there is a feeling, subconscious but ever present, that the Turk is only in temporary possession. In all his ways, in all his views, he differs from those with whom he comes in contact in his Empire's European possessions. He has few belongings and seldom desires more, and these can easily be stowed and transported elsewhere, whereas the races he has conquered and which have wrenched themselves free again are ambitious and greedy of gain. They have been carefully collecting for this final blow; while the Turk has been squandering his goods, they have constructed; whereas the Turk, if he has not destroyed what he found, has at last let it fall in ruins. Those other nations give of their best, put all their strength into the pursuit of one ideal, a great and prosperous Fatherland; the Turk knows only that "Allah is" and orders all things wherever the believer may be, and the ideal of Fatherland is quite beyond his comprehension. The very word, "vatan," had to be explained to the Turkish people by the enthusiasts who broke the power of Abdul Hamid; but all explanation was useless, the Turk has not found his "vatan" in Europe, and those who broke the power of the Sultan were unable to replace it by anything which the Turk could understand. Devoid of art or science, incapable of political life, the Turk's energies have been directed solely to works of destruction. Only in one direction has he shown constructive capacity and a desire to leave a lasting record, and that is in the mosques and turbehs, and almost all of these are monuments to men before whom nations went under in seas of blood, who trampled down all signs of prosperity, strangled growing civilization, and levelled homesteads and palaces, churches and strongholds with the ground, on their ruthless march to victory. Towering over the wooden houses of Stamboul, overshadowing the broken walls of Byzantine defence, which proved vain against the might of Othman, these mosques make Constantinople what it is. Massive masonry, with clinging turrets, crowned by a mighty dome surrounded by the Crescent, and round about the building the bulbous roofs of the medresseh,[1] tetinune,[2] darul ziafet,[3] and darul shifa,[4] emblems of the sycophantic East living on the bounty of the great; thus rises the Mosque of Mohammed the Conqueror, out of the eternal squalor, filth, misery, and unconcern of an Oriental city. And other mosques are much the same, and stand as the only evidence of the Turk's capacity for construction, and the finest, most imposing of these buildings are due to the most ruthless destroyers among the sons of Othman. Sultan Mohammed the Conqueror built his mosque on the spot where once stood the Church of the Holy Apostles; not a trace remains of that former sacred fane, where in the "Heröon" the rulers of ancient Byzant were laid to rest in coffins of porphyry, granite, serpentine, green, red, or white marble, from Thessaly, Paros, and the Proconessus. Indeed, these tombs were not destroyed by the Osmanli. Latin Christians, during their short tenor of the Imperial City, from 1204-1260, desecrated the shrine and plundered the tombs of the Emperors, but they left at least the building standing, and all traces of that are buried under the massive pile of the Mosque of Sultan Mohammed the Conqueror. [1] "Medresseh," academy for students. [2] "Tetinune," their dwelling-place. [3] "Darul ziafet," where the poor are fed. [4] "Darul shifa," hospital. I have already mentioned the Mosque of Achmet. It is the most pronounced feature of Stamboul, rising in wonderful symmetry above the clustering houses that seem to tumble down to the sea-walls and are only arrested in their fall by the Kütshük (little) Agia Sofia, formerly the Church of St. Sergius and Bacchus. This little building stands stoutly by the sea, resting on the walls that for many centuries kept the foes of Christianity at bay, its flat cupola framed on one side by sturdy minaret, on the other by a weather-beaten poplar. Neither of the saints to whom the Greeks dedicated this church are familiar to me; of St. Sergius I know nothing, and the name of St. Bacchus came as a surprise to me when first I heard it, for Bacchus I had known for many years as an obsolete Pagan deity who made no pretence at sanctity, and was only a god because mortals chose to worship him. It is therefore strange to find him associated with St. Sergius, whose name has a somewhat severe sound to it, on this particular post, for, mind you, the men of the Middle Ages allowed their saints very little leisure, but assigned to each his duty. So, I take it, St. Sergius was entrusted with the defence of this section of the sea-wall, and he requisitioned the other gentleman to take over the social duties of the post and to make things merry and bright. However, as I say, I know very little about saints, so cannot give the real reason why these two gentlemen clubbed together to have a church to themselves, and therefore give the above explanation under reservation. High above this little church towers the massive Mosque of Ahmedyeh, Achmet, considered chief of all the mosques in Stamboul, its six minarets pointing like warning fingers to the sky where Allah reigns inscrutable. The founder, Achmet, was a pious soul, and at the same time a good sportsman; he gave evidence of the former quality by building this mosque, in the latter capacity he was great at falconry and in hunting with those strong hounds whose degenerate descendants until recently roamed the streets of Constantinople and acted as rather unsatisfactory scavengers. Achmet was rather worried about the dogs, which, in those days of the early seventeenth century, were already rather a nuisance in the crowded City, and thought it wise to consult the Mufti about the matter, for the lives of dogs, unclean animals though they be, were deemed a matter of some importance. The mufti consulted with others learned in the law of the Prophet, and this enlightened committee came to the conclusion that it was unlawful to kill the dogs, seeing each one had a soul. Christians you may kill, they are the enemies of Allah, whereas dogs are not, or at least do not worry about the matter either way. Women you may kill too, they have no soul at all. It is all beautifully simple, and appeals to the meanest intellect. Anyway, the dogs continued to be a nuisance, so, as they might not be killed, they were banished first to Scutari, where they seemed quite happy, and then to an island some sixteen miles out in the Sea of Marmora, where they might die of starvation. However, if the story be true, the dogs knew a trick worth two of that, and simply swam back to their old haunts, and, incidentally, to their ladies, who had not been exiled. I can quite imagine the all-night howlings of welcome with which the ladies greeted the wanderers on their return, and the flight of slippers, smaller articles of furniture, etc., accompanied by clouds of curses, hurtling through the night, to check the exuberance of this _frohes Wiedersehen_. A couple of years ago the authorities, inspired by the enlightened members of the new regime, decided to get rid of the dogs, and they were banished again. This time they were rounded up in all parts of the city, and even from the villages on either bank of the Bosphorus. I remember well a friendly little white lady who lived in a corner on the steps leading up from the sea towards the higher part of the Candilli; here on a heap of melon skins, which served both as food and as bedding, she was wont to bring up one litter of promising little pariah pups after another, and she loved variety, for her children were a most variegated assortment. They were as happy as those bright, sunny days were long, and would tumble in bunches down the uneven steps, or struggle up towards the high road which leads along the Asiatic bank and connects Candilli by land with the great world. Here the pups, after strenuous mountaineering, would get their outlook on life, with all its excitements and possible dangers; here Turkish cavalry from Scutari would come dashing past, galloping furiously when there were people to watch this feat and stones to lame their clever little horses, subsiding to a walk when beyond the sight of admirers and when the roads were soft with dust some inches deep, or grass by the wayside. Other sights presented themselves to the round, wondering eyes of these offspring of the little white lady: of a morning lithe young Englishmen would tear down those steps several at a time, to the great wonderment of the lodgers in the corner on the bed of melon skins. These Englishmen would be hurrying to the "Scala" to catch a boat--never punctual unless you were late--a boat that took them to their work in Pera and Galata. On their return they would ascend with startling rapidity those stony precipices which to the puppies seemed to take a lifetime to negotiate; and in the gardens between the high road and the sea you might hear the gentle voices of fair, fragrant Englishwomen, and the puppies would wag sympathetic tails. Yes, they were pleasant, very pleasant, those summer days at Candilli. The solemn cypresses, in their attitude of constant warning, stood unheeded, for the sun was shining on the waters, and made them gleam in gold and blue and many colours, and the sun drew fragrance from flowering shrubs, and ripened the swelling figs that nestled among the broad leaves which, in their turn, mirrored the life-giver in their bright, smooth surface. But one day the little white lady and her family vanished, for men had been busy during the night, and had carried them and all their friends into exile, had carried them away over the waters where the moon drew a sparkling silvery path, to a barren island. Here they were left to perish, for long ago the wise men, learned in the laws of the Prophet, had decided that every dog, even the smallest pup, has a soul, and that it is evil to kill them, but not to let them starve to death. And these same wise men would not have allowed the possession of a soul to those fair Englishwomen whose blue eyes smiled kindly on the little white lady and her offspring's wondering interest in the doings of the great world. Many of the dogs had a presentiment of danger, and evaded capture by fleeing to the "hinterland," whence came alarming rumours of packs of wild dogs rendering insecure the country-side. Of these, one or the other found his way back to his old sociable haunts, and Constantinople and environments have not quite got rid of the dogs which, according to the accounts of all travellers in this country, form one of its most remarkable features. There are other mosques, many of them, rising up from among squalor, or groups of picturesque wooden houses, and these mosques seem to be the only indication of any permanence of Turkish rule. The little wooden houses vanish from time to time, whole districts in one fell swoop, by fire, which has spread with alarming rapidity long before the watchman, tapping the irregular pavement with the iron-shod staff, has given the alarm. Then firemen, with much noise but little expedition, arrive on the scene, and find little left to do but to gather up the fragments, the property of the sufferers. But the mosques remain towering above charred ruins, and the call to prayer sounds from the graceful minaret over deserted homesteads. [Illustration: A Disused Monastery Near the Golf-links on the heights overlooking the upper reaches of the Golden Horn. Here also refugees cluster around the dilapidated walls waiting patiently for transport to Asia Minor.] Thus the life of this strange people, the Turks, goes on from day to day, leisurely business transacted with all dignity of inherent idleness, endless gossip under the vines and awnings of small cafés, talk which begins nowhere and arrives nowhere. Squalor, dirt, picturesque decay, and over all the sense that a migratory race has settled here for a while, is not disposed to move until turned out, and has just put up a leader or two with sufficient enterprise to make others build him a place of worship to glorify himself above his fellows. But strong young nations have closed in upon Constantinople and threaten it from the West. They came strong in their faith, armed and equipped and prepared to carry all before them, to make vast sacrifices, and their strongest weapon is an ideal. They have not forgotten the history of past centuries; the memory of nameless indignities, of crushing shame, has fed the spirit that informs them, that bids them hurl their young strength against the _vis inertiæ_ of the Turks and march over heaps of slain, over a country peopled by their kinsmen, fellow Christians, now devastated by the foe they have driven back. Now they are hammering at the gates, at the defences of Constantinople, and all the remaining strength of the dying Ottoman Empire in Europe is massed on the narrow strip of ground between the Bosphorus and the lines of Chatalja. Uncertainty still reigns there as I write these lines; vain hopes are raised by rumours, some so improbable that they suggest the incoherent rambling of one but half-awakened out of a long drugged sleep. But certain it is that efficiency, concentration, and high purpose have met sloth and corruption, and have conquered. Though the lines of Chatalja may prove equal to the task of defending this last strip of Turkish territory, yet the fact remains that those young nations have brought about an epoch-making catastrophe--the passing of Ottoman rule in Europe. CHAPTER VII The defences of Constantinople--Adrianople and its history--The walls of Constantinople and their story--The Marble Tower--Yedi Koulé and the Golden Gate--Tales of Theodosius and Maximus, St. Ursula and the eleven thousand maidens--Emperor Heraclius--The story of Basil the Macedonian--King Crum's appearance before the Golden Gate--Michael Palæologus and Mary the Conductress--The Walls of Theodosius--Refugees encamped outside the walls--The triumph of Christianity. In these days of effective long-range fire the defences of a capital city lie well away from and command the approaches to it. Whereas formerly hostile forces surged up against stout towers and strong walls, the enemy of to-day lets loud-voiced cannon speak from afar, hurling destruction at what look like mounds, green hills, from a distance, but when approached bristle with ordnance and small-arms. Far afield lie fortresses, each encircled with smaller forts, and these are meant to stay the tide of invasion. This was the mission of Adrianople and its enceinte of forts, Adrianople, the City of Hadrian, famous in history, for epoch-making events have taken place around it; the Goths here vanquished Valens, and their impetuous onslaught broke the ranks of Roman legions and filled the minds of those warriors with such dread of the Teuton invader that years passed before they could be induced to face the Goths again. It was Theodosius the Great who brought back their courage to them. His skilful system of block-houses kept him informed of the enemy's vagrant movements, and by so contriving that the Roman legionaries met only numerically inferior bodies of barbarians, he helped to revive the great traditions of Roman arms at least for a short space of time. Then again when Bulgarians came pouring down the Valley of the Maritza towards Constantinople, the defenders of the Imperial City met them at Adrianople; the armies of Byzant were beaten, the Emperor slain, and his skull, encased in gold, served as a drinking-vessel to his vanquisher. The hosts of Othman, having overrun the northern European provinces of the Byzantine Empire, made for Adrianople, and the city became the European capital of the Osmanli until Constantinople fell. To-day the City of Hadrian, the "Sperr-fort" of Constantinople, is surrounded by the enemies of the Porte, Bulgarians and Servians, and thus one of the outlying defences of the capital no longer serves its purpose, and the defence has been drawn in nearer to the lines of Chatalja. Those lines now take the place as last defence of the walls built on the landward side by Theodosius II, and improved and repaired by his successors to the Imperial Purple. They stand to-day grey and deserted, lichen-grown, clad in dark green folds of ivy, that sympathetic friend of fallen fortresses, and listen to the sounds of danger to the capital, while recalling days when they themselves held out against all foes, though earthquakes shook their stout foundations, and discord in the city seemed like to nullify their usefulness. A strange and stirring history this of those landward walls of Constantinople, and worthy of a moment's consideration in these days, when the fate of yet another Empire, with its seat of government within those walls, is trembling in the balance. They stretch from the Sea of Marmora northward to the Golden Horn, do those walls of Theodosius, their southern angle marked by a strong tower, a marble tower, dipping its foundations deep into the pellucid waters. I saw it first on a glorious summer day, the gleaming blocks of marble of which it is built were reflected in the waters of the Sea of Marmora, beyond blue sea, or above blue sky, and between the two, floating like the Isles of the Blest on a magic sea, the Prince's Islands, and behind them the blue hills of Asia Minor, their rugged outlines softened by the heat-haze of a summer's day. Little white sails gleamed on the flashing waters, sails filled by some idle zephyr which carried small ships away, lazily, out into the southern seas. But, mind you, this tower has not always lived in idleness, bathing its feet in summer seas. Times were when the watchman up in this tower would see the south alive with movement and the silver path on the sea overshadowed by clouds of sail. Swiftly they came, those strange craft from out of the south, bearing bronzed sons of Arabia to storm the City of Cæsar. Twice they came, in 668 and again from 716-718, but their efforts were unavailing, and the groves of cypress trees mark their last resting-place. The Marble Tower served its purpose well in those ancient days, over which distance has cast its glamour. To-day the Marble Tower stands silent, lifeless, by the side of a leaden sea; passing squalls hide the view to southward and over the Islands towards the mountains of Asia Minor, and a grey sky, heavy with rain, hangs like a pall over the City and this corner of its ancient defences. The Marble Tower's part in history is long since played out, and now it listens silently, helpless, to the distant booming of cannon before which it would fall like those castles of dreamland at cock-crow; ruined it stands mourning the ruin which overtakes the kingdoms of this world. A little further northward stands yet another memorable monument to former greatness, Yedi Koulé and the "Golden Gate." Several ruined towers raise their heads above the broken walls from among groups of little wooden houses. They and the curtains which connect them once formed a stronghold built by Mohammed II on the ruins of a former castle. This was for a time the chief garrison of the Janissaries, and a state prison wherein the Sultans were wont to incarcerate the ambassadors of those foreign Powers with which they chanced to be at war, a playful habit which has been discontinued since Turkey asserted her claim to be considered a civilized nation. The Janissaries also kept their own prisoners here, generally dethroned Sultans, whom they killed here at their leisure and free from outside interference. A strong fortress stood here, raised by a strong man, Theodosius, in the young days of ancient Byzantium. It was built on to by successive Emperors, and became one of the most important centres of the City on memorable occasions, for this stronghold became known as the "Golden Gate," the Porta Aurea, and its towering walls looked down upon great historic happenings. Without on the plain dense hosts would form into ordered procession and follow their Emperor in his triumphal entry through the gates. Under a heavy sky, festooned with sombre ivy, crumbling in its last stage of decay, the Golden Gate with difficulty recalls the glories that have passed beneath it. The Golden Gate had three archways, of which the central one was wider and loftier than the others, like those to be seen in the Roman Forum. These were dedicated to Severus and Constantine, and were closed by gilded gates taken from Mompseueste and placed here by Nicephorus Phocas after his victories in Cilicia. The gate is said to owe its origin to Theodosius the Great, who built it to commemorate his victory over Maximus. Though I thoroughly appreciate Theodosius and subscribe to all his claims to greatness, I have ever been sorry for Maximus. After all, it seems, he did not really wish to rebel against Gratian and assume the Imperial Purple. Rather was he urged to it by popular opinion, the politicians of Britain having decided that he should, and the youth of Britain flocked to his standards, so Maximus was bound to move. It was a big move, too, and successful at first, for his rapid progress alarmed Gratian, who fled from Paris, his army of Gaul having gone over to Maximus. The campaign was like the migration of a nation, 30,000 fighting men and 100,000 others, and of these numbers settled in Brittany, where their descendants live to this day. To make things pleasanter, a great number of ladies set out from Britain with the intention of joining the men when the fighting was over. St. Ursula took charge of this column, 11,000 noble, 60,000 plebeian maidens, destined as brides for the settlers, but they lost their way, and when at last they got to Cologne they met the Huns and were all slaughtered. For this St. Ursula was canonized, as is only right and proper, and a beautiful window in Cologne Cathedral sets forth the whole story, giving portraits of the ladies, so that in face of evidence as conclusive as that of our half-penny illustrated dailies there is no more room for doubt. Maximus came up against Theodosius in the end, and that was the end of him. Nearly three centuries later Heraclius, the Emperor, entered the Golden Gate in triumph after his victory over the Persians, and again a century later Constantine Copronymus followed through these golden arches after defeating the Bulgarians. They came in one long stream of conquerors in those earlier centuries of the Byzantine Emperors, names now forgotten or but dimly remembered; then awoke the "Daughter of the Arches," as Echo was poetically called, as one hero after another was acclaimed by a vainglorious mob: Theophilus, in the middle of the ninth century, he routed the Arabs. Basil I, the Macedonian--a strange story his. It was in the middle of the ninth century that a young, strong, and active, but weary and travel-stained man came over the heights beyond the Golden Gate. He entered by a side entrance close to, or part of, the Golden Gate at sunset, and being a stranger in the City with no friends to go to, he lay down to sleep on the steps of the Monastery of St. Diomed, which stood near the Golden Gate. A kindly monk extended the hospitality of the monastery to him, and the brothers helped him to find suitable employment. His good fortune led him to a cousin, in whose train Basil went to the Peloponese. Here he became acquainted with a wealthy widow, Danielis, who adopted him as her son, and helped by her wealth and by his own merits, Basil rose to high honour, and finally stepped from the body of the Emperor, killed by himself, to the steps of the throne. Years after his first entrance into Constantinople Basil I, founder of the Macedonian dynasty, moved in under the arches of the Golden Gate in triumph. Another Basil, second of that name, rode in at the Golden Gate after his victory over the Bulgarians. The slaughter he inflicted on them gained him the appellation "Bulgaroktonos"; the memory of the cruelty he practised on his Bulgarian captives lives still in the minds of their descendants, those men whose big guns were battering at the outer defences of Constantinople, those men who would that their sovereign should enter the City as conqueror. The Bulgarians found the road to Constantinople soon after their appearance in Eastern Europe. Clouds of dust heralded the coming of Crum, their King, with a large host amid flocks of sheep and goats. They pitched their leather tents on the slopes outside the Golden Gate and laid siege to that stronghold, but all their efforts were unavailing, even the human sacrifices offered by their King to his strange gods failed of effect, and a receding cloud of dust told the watchman on the Golden Gate that his savage enemy had withdrawn. Another figure in the glittering pageant that passed through the Golden Gate in triumph was John Zimisces, the Armenian, of whose rise to power over the corpse of his imperial master, aided by his mistress the Empress, the walls of the Palace of Hormisdas were silent witnesses. The last of all the Emperors to enter triumphantly by the Golden Gate was Michael Palæologus, in August, 1261. The Latin Emperors had held Constantinople for some time when Michael came with an army to claim his rightful inheritance, and Baldwin, last of the Latins, fled at his approach. The Golden Gate was thrown open, the Emperor dismounted, and on foot meekly followed the miraculous image of Mary the Conductress into the City as far as the Cathedral of St. Sophia. Michael re-established the dynasty of the Palæologi on the throne of Constantine, and they held it for two short centuries. The next conqueror to enter the City of Constantine was Mohammed II, and he rode over the heaped corpses of Janissaries and of Byzantine princes and their mercenaries, in over the breech made by his engines of war, and with him came the spirit of another age and race which yet holds possession, while those distant guns thundered at the lines of Chatalja, threatening to close yet another epoch in the long, tense history of Constantinople, Stamboul, Tsarigrad, the Castle of Cæsar. [Illustration: The Walls of Theodosius Outside these walls refugees from Thrace and Macedonia settled on their way back to Asia Minor. They camped among the graves of fallen warriors of their faith, and cut down for firewood the centuries-old cypress trees.] The walls built by Theodosius begin after Yedi Koulé Kapousi, the Gate of the Seven Towers, and extend northwards until they reach the high ground overlooking the Valley of the Lycus, when they turn off slightly to the north-east. Constantine the Great had built walls around his City, but it outgrew them, and so to Theodosius II, who reigned from 408-450, fell the task of extending the limits of the Castle of Cæsar. Historians of the time draw a pleasant picture of the scene when these walls were erected. All citizens were called upon to assist, political factions dropped their differences, and so there arose the defences of the City. Misfortune visited them shortly after their completion, when an earthquake overthrew a great portion of the work, including fifty-seven towers. It came at an inopportune moment too, for Attila, the "Scourge of God," as he was pleased to call himself, was at large, had already inflicted three defeats on the armies of the Eastern Empire, had ravaged Macedonia and Thrace with fire and sword, and was moving down upon Constantinople. Even to-day, after the passing of eleven centuries, these walls of Theodosius present an imposing front, in some places almost untouched by the hand of time; how much more formidable must they have appeared to those assailants whose bones are guarded by the tapering cypress trees a stone's throw away from the fosse. There were in all one hundred and ninety-two towers. Visitors to Constantinople should view these walls of Theodosius from near Top Kapousi. A long line of walls extends away to the south, first the inner wall, standing on a broad terrace raised somewhat above the outer wall. This terrace is about fifty feet broad, and here was the main defence of the City--for in former days these walls were of enormous strength compared to any engines of offence that could be brought against them--a chain of towers linked together by stout walls known as curtains to the expert. These towers, most of which are square, stand about one hundred and seventy feet apart, and rose, when in their completed state, to a height of sixty feet, standing out some twenty feet from the curtain. Each tower contained, as a rule, two chambers, and was built of carefully cut stone and vaulted with brick inside. The outer wall contained a number of vaulted chambers which offered shelter to the troops engaged in the defence, and there are loopholes through which their fire was directed. This wall had numbers of little towers, alternately round and square, and was about ten feet high, sufficient to afford protection to bodies of troops moving from one place to another along the terrace. There was also a deep moat which could be flooded; it is now serving the peaceful purpose of market-garden. [Illustration: THE SEA-WALLS OF CONSTANTINOPLE Above them rises the dome of Little St. Sophia, behind which again looms the mighty Mosque of Achmet.] On a fine day the view over the walls away to the Sea of Marmora is wonderfully beautiful--but this is winter, and grey clouds keep out the sunshine needed to draw out the many beauties of the scene. The road, at no time really entitled to be called so, is now a quagmire with rocks in it, yet traffic of a kind is passing--lumbering carts drawn by water-buffaloes pitch and roll in the sea of mud, and clinging to them are refugees from Thrace and Macedonia who have fled from their homes before the invader. They camp about in the neighbourhood outside the walls of Theodosius, not knowing what to do nor whither to guide their weary steps, these refugees from the storm that tore down the Valley of the Maritza, when Tsar Ferdinand led his armies over the border, and Serbs crossed the mountain-passes to meet their old enemy, ay, and to triumph over him. Flotsam and jetsam, thrown up by the tide of war on the strip of land still held by Turkey in Europe, these refugees would be without hope of any better fate were it not for the efforts of Christian men and women in Constantinople, to whom Christian men and women have sent from distant countries large sums to help the awful distress caused by this last crusade. Up to the present £28,000 has come from Great Britain alone. I do not know how much other countries have contributed. And this has been done for a people who have been ever ready to obey their rulers in carrying out the Oriental methods of solving racial problems by massacre, who are only prevented from applying the same principle to their benefactors by the inexpediency of doing so with the Golden Horn full of European warships. Islam justifies the murder of unbelievers--the followers of that creed are not so much to blame, least of all the ignorant peasant taken from his home to fight for he knows not what, driven from his possessions by a foreign invader. Christianity is again triumphant--where this Moslem country has proved itself unequal to any emergency, incapable of elementary organization, leaving its sick and the wounded of the battlefields to die and rot in the courtyards of mosques, yes, even in the open streets, Christian men and women have organized relief, and theirs is the only work which in any way can claim to have helped the sufferers in those awful last weeks of the "Passing of Ottoman Power in Europe." One lady is now in hospital there in Constantinople--she was brought in sick from the strain of overwork and the horrors she had witnessed in a little town near by. Outside her door, on the pavements, in the road lay men, Turkey's famous fighting men, starved, wounded, dying of neglect and disease. So for over a fortnight that Christian woman toiled among them; the nights she spent in making soup for them, the day was taken up in distributing it. It was no nice clean hospital work, dead and dying were piled upon each other in unmitigated misery, in incredible filth--those who have been there and seen say that they have been down, deep down, into Hell. Yet even there the light penetrated, brought by a Christian woman following the precepts of her Master. Since then the Christian medical organizations, under the Red Crescent, forsooth, lest Islam should feel itself slighted in its character of a creed of mercy and loving-kindness, have taken matters in hand, and order and cleanliness are conquering over ignorance and bringing light to Gehenna. There is yet a vast amount to be done, but it is being done, not only by those professionally qualified to undertake such duties, but by every lady in Galata and Pera, at least I think I may safely say so, as I know not one among my many acquaintances here who is not in some way engaged in the work of mercy. Not only ladies, but men, busy men, are helping--officers from the warships in harbour, sent to prevent a general massacre of Christians, business men, hard-worked officials, all find time to spare in visiting the hospitals and helping wherever opportunity offers. They do not expect gratitude, nor do they find much, I fancy, for East is East and West is West, and to me the Oriental mind is inscrutable still, though I have lived in the East and travelled in it. There are strange times these days in Constantinople, with the fate of an Empire in the balance. At first sight the traveller might notice little change or little difference from the sights and sounds of normal times. People went about their business much as usual--the Stock Exchange had much the same "allure" as ever, and the smells it harboured have not changed, only intensified perhaps, under the pressure of the lowering heavens. The narrow streets were thronged by the same crowds composed of many races; "hamals" carried astounding weights and packages of strange, outlandish shape, regardless of any other foot-passengers; men of leisure sat under the soaked awnings of the little cafés in Stamboul by the shore of the Golden Horn, or looked dull-eyed out of the plate-glass windows of Tokatlians', according to their taste, their nationality, their social standing; and a general air of indifference seemed to mark the people of the town, the Turks in particular. But there were military patrols in the street, and when you looked closer into matters you found many evidences of change. The Red Cross and Red Crescent flew over many buildings in Stamboul, Galata, and Pera, Christian civilization was working for the good of Christianity's bitterest opponents, and in the mosques of Islam, where in the dim religious light you used to see a pious follower of the Prophet performing his solemn devotions, or a "hodja" studying reverently the Prophet's Book of the Law, where no sound was heard, you now heard the groans of wounded soldiers; for these temples, raised by conquerors of a warrior caste and creed, now harboured all the misery caused by a war ill-planned, ill-managed, and inglorious. CHAPTER VIII Beyond the walls of Constantinople--The Valley of the Lycus--The siege of Constantinople in 1453--The life of the City at that time--The Genoese ships which fought their way through the blockade--Mohammed the Conqueror's anger at his Admiral, Baltaoghli--The last of the Byzantine Emperors--The scenes outside the gates during the war--The Mosque of Mihrama--The Palace of the Porphyrogenitus and the legend of the Kerko Porta--Manuel Comnenus--The towers of Anemas and Isaac Angelus, and the Varangian Guard--Egri Kapoo and the master-weaver--Simeon, Tsar of all the Bulgarians, and Emperor Romanus Lecapenus--A walk in the country and the return to the City--A visit to the lines of Chatalja. [Illustration: The Burnt Column One of the most peculiar relics of old Byzantium; standing alone, apart from the everyday life of the city, a silent witness to many strange events; a monument so old that its history is lost in oblivion.] It was not in the City, in Stamboul itself, where signs of any unusual state of affairs struck the casual stranger; it was outside the gates, beyond the walls, that signs of stress and trouble crowded in upon the observer--soldiers, stragglers, refugees, filled the gateways through the walls of Theodosius. On the rising ground outside Top Kapoo dense groves of cypress trees, guarding the graves of men who had fallen in the repeated attempts to force an entry into Constantinople, threw their long shadows over the road beyond the old defences, as they stood out deep-toned against the golden sunset. Now these cypresses were rapidly falling before the axe of the Macedonian refugees, who had formed their camp of waggons outside Top Kapoo. They were camping on the spot where Mohammed the Conqueror pitched his tent in 1453, looking down into the Valley of the Lycus, where the assaults were made which brought down the enfeebled Empire of Byzant. This was a pleasant place, according to all accounts, when the world was young, and St. Chrysostom baptized his three thousand white-robed catechumens in the waters of the Lycus. A few years later Theodosius II rode down from the heights outside to view the walls that he had built. He fell from his horse and died a few days later, from the injury caused to his spine. No doubt the Valley of the Lycus was a pleasant place in those far-off golden days of a golden Empire, which, here in this valley, received the death-wound from the forebears of the people who are now swarming in the groves of cypresses, refugees, destitute, landless and homeless, instinctively turning towards Asia, whence their race sprang. It came with giant strides, that race of the sons of Othman; they first became acquainted with the glories of Byzant through a mission sent from their chief to Emperor Justinian in the sixth century; they were not Moslems then, for it was not till the eighth century that the Arabs overran their country and forcibly converted them. They served the Arab Caliphs for a while, and in time rose above them and founded dynasties of their own folk. The young nation passed through many tribulations, but by the time that Othman, son of Erthogrul, came to the throne, the Greeks had already felt the keenness of the sword that carved possessions out of the Empire of the East, until nothing was left to Cæsar but his Imperial City. This Valley of the Lycus seethed with fighting men in those early days of 1453. Both sides had been making preparations for a year or so. Mohammed had collected his strong, well-disciplined army at Adrianople, his European capital, and here, under his supervision, were made preparations for the siege of Constantinople. He increased the number of guns, and in this was helped by a Hungarian, Urban, who had left the Greek service on account of some ill-usage by his factious masters. The prize achievement of Urban's foundry at Adrianople was a monster cannon, of which wonderful things were said: its bore was of twelve palms breadth; it could contain a charge that drove a stone ball of six hundred pounds weight a distance of a mile, to bury it in the ground to the depth of a furlong. In spite of its wonderful performance, it is doubtful whether the big gun cast by Urban did very much damage, although, to make sure, it was placed only a couple of hundred yards from the walls it was to bring down. At any rate, Mohammed made all necessary arrangements for the siege, and finally turned on the priests of Islam to rouse his warriors to the proper state of religious frenzy. The preparations in the City were probably much less thoroughly undertaken. Emperor Constantine was a good man, and efficient, but it seems he was not strong enough to bring his people to the pitch of self-sacrifice necessary to those who have to sustain a siege. The citizens of Constantinople were as keen about religious controversy as ever, and the times provided food for violent discussions, for the ruler of the Empire realized the dangers that beset him and tried to make diplomacy a substitute for efficient military preparations. There was only one way by which help could come to Constantinople, and that was by union of the Orthodox Greek Church with the Church of Rome. The citizens of Constantinople were wildly agitated by the publication of the news of this agreement, and many swore to admit the Moslem rather than the Roman priest. But the latter came, nevertheless, Cardinal Isidore of Russia, as Legate of Pope Nicholas V, and with him came help, a body of trained soldiers, and the union of the Churches was solemnized at St. Sophia, amidst disorder and riots in the streets. The Greeks, though always ready to fight among themselves over some matter of dogma, had for many years ceased to bear arms in defence of their country. They had by degrees become too soft for the hard life of a soldier, dropped one by one the heavier arms and accoutrements, which had to be carried about after them; it was hopeless to try and make any further use of them for military purposes. For this reason they were forbidden to take up the profession of arms, or even to form trained bands or bodies of volunteers; possibly another cause was the danger of an armed mob, violent, decadent, always dissatisfied. Yet they should have been content; their rulers relieved them from the responsibility of defending their country, which, by the way, is considered an honour by the citizens of those European nations which have universal military service; they were fed by the State, which also provided amusement for them--games, fights of wild beasts, drama, and music; in fact, they had even less responsibility and were offered more entertainment than the people of another great Empire of to-day. For defence the City of Constantinople relied solely upon foreign mercenaries. Mohammed's line of attack extended all along the walls, from the Sea of Marmora to the Golden Horn, where it joined with the fleet he had brought across country; the main assault was directed against the Gate of St. Romanus, down in the valley. The siege continued from April till May. The Greek army was venturesome at first, and made sorties to destroy the earthworks, behind which the Turks were planning mines. But the serious losses caused by such enterprise, as also the dwindling store of gunpowder, put an end to these operations, and the courage of the defenders began to sink. Hope rose again for a while when a premature attack was beaten off, the assailants not yet having effected a negotiable breach, or again when a squadron of four Genoese and one Greek ship from Chios fought its way through the Turkish Fleet and came to anchor in the Golden Horn under the sea-walls of the Seraglio. A very gallant episode this, which happened in the middle of April. The stately ships sailed up from the Dardanelles, and bore down upon the numerous Turkish Fleet, while Greeks crowded on the walls, and the Turks, among them their Sultan, rushed down to the shore to watch. From their tall decks the Christian seamen hurled large stones and poured Greek fire upon the low-lying Turkish barques around them, and so they fought their way to the harbour's mouth; the chain was lowered to receive them, and welcome reinforcement had come to Constantinople. Mohammed felt the humiliation so keenly that his wrath against Baltaoghli could only be appeased by that Admiral's death--the order went that he was to be impaled on the spot. But the Janissaries demurred, and entreated the Sultan to spare the Admiral's life, so the angry sovereign punished the offender, stretched on the ground, held by four slaves, by dealing him one hundred blows with his battle-mace; no doubt a dignified proceeding, though most painful to the Admiral. The succour brought by the five ships was all that ever came to the distressed City; the siege was carried on relentlessly, and one by one the strong walls and towers went down before Mohammed's artillery. On May 24th he sent in to demand surrender, but was refused, so orders were given for a general assault on the 29th. The hostile leaders spent the eve of battle in characteristic manner. Mohammed assembled his chiefs and issued final orders; he despatched crowds of dervishes to visit the tents of his troops to inflame their fanaticism and promise them great rewards--double pay, captives and spoil, gold and beauty, while to the first man who should ascend the walls the Sultan promised the government of the fairest province of his dominions. [Illustration: A BYZANTINE PALACE The ancient Palace of the Porphyrogenitus, where those "born in the Purple" were shown to the populace and proclaimed "Cæsar urbi, Cæsar orbis."] Emperor Constantine likewise assembled his nobles, and the leaders of his allies, chief of whom was Giustiniani; he adjured them to make yet greater efforts in the defence, and to infuse new courage into the siege-worn troops by their example. Rewards he had none to offer them. Then each leader went his way to the post assigned to him, the Emperor himself to a solemn Mass in St. Sophia, the last time in the history of that sacred shrine the mysteries of the Christian faith were adored by any Christian worshipper. Constantine then returned to the palace and asked forgiveness of any of his servants whom he might have wronged; then he passed from his palace to his station at the great breach. In the Ottoman camp all was ready for the great attempt, and at sunrise masses of assailants stood in their appointed places, waiting to hurl themselves against the tottering defences of the Eastern Empire. To the sound of drums and trumpets wave after wave of fierce fighting men surged across the filled-in fosse, over the broken walls, to be repulsed by the defenders. Time after time they were repulsed and followed by fresh swarms, trampling down the barrier of corpses in their eagerness for blood and booty. But the courage and numbers of the defenders were ebbing fast; Giustiniani, who, side by side with the Emperor, was conducting the defence of the great breach, fell severely wounded, and was borne away to die in his galley in the harbour. This took the heart out of the defence; the chief of the assailing Janissaries noticed it, and urged his men to yet greater endeavour. The Turks now numbered fifty to one as Hassan, the Giant of Ulubad, led thirty men as vanguard of the last attack into the breach. Hassan fell, and most of those who came with him, but the main body followed rapidly, and under the weight of this tremendous onslaught the Christian garrison was over-powered. The victorious Turks rushed in; others had forced the gate of the Phanar on the Golden Horn, and Constantine's fair City was given over to the sword. Constantine XII (Palæologus) fell in the breach, defending the City of his great namesake against the Moslem; his body was found under a heap of slain, and with him fell the greater number of his Latin auxiliaries. Refugees from Thrace and Macedonia are camping among the cypresses on the site from which Mohammed the Conqueror watched the fall of Constantinople's last defences, while out at Chatalja another foe was dealing heavy blows at the last defences in Europe of that Empire founded here that day in May, 1453. The Lycus, a dirty, insignificant stream, now swelled by constant rain and draining the quagmire which is called a road, outside the walls, flows through an arch underneath one of the towers into Stamboul. Just within, and leaning up against the walls, are huts built of wood, disused oil-tins, and other makeshifts. These harbour a colony of gipsies, who seemed as happy in the mud as they were when last I saw them, basking in the sunshine. This colony finds the expert horse-dealers (and stealers) of the neighbourhood. At present business is slack, for the war has demanded all there was in the way of horseflesh in the City, for in this respect, too, no adequate preparations had been made; the tramway companies had to give up their jades to carry the Sultan's cavalry to victory and Sofia, as was fondly imagined by the hosts that streamed out through the gates of the City. I have seen some of the few survivors of those horses, led back by men who were in much the same condition as their mounts; it seemed as if their sinews alone kept their bones from falling apart. Groves of cypress trees used to cast long shadows over the many graves that mark the landscape to westward of the track that leads northward along the walls of Constantinople; to-day they are fast disappearing under the axe of the refugees, and what was once a scene of solemn beauty is now squalor and desecration, for right away to the Gate of Adrianople, Edirné, as the Turks call it, there were clusters of carts with their distressful burdens. Looking down on all this misery stands the Mosque of Mihrama, on the highest point of the old defences of Constantinople. A church dedicated to St. George, the patron saint of warriors and horsemen, stood here, until St. George's mission of protecting Christian soldiers ended in the debacle down in the ruin-heaped valley below. To me, the crescent on the dome of Mihrama, the unfinished minaret amidst its scaffolding seemed to wear an air of detachment from the ghastly scenes below; around it dirt and disease, and abject misery within the courtyard of the mosque; but its growing minaret stands quite aloof, and points to the lowering sky, beyond which Allah decides the fate of mortals. So his worshippers, the followers of the Prophet, lie down in huddled heaps of wretchedness about his courts below--Kismet! The Walls of Theodosius turn away from the road after the Gate of Adrianople, and end at an imposing ruin, once the home of Emperors--the Palace of the Porphyrogenitus. It stands high, overlooking the City and the open country; on its walls are the remains of two balconies, from one of which the new-born Prince was shown the wide extent of rolling plain and proclaimed "Cæsar Orbi," from the other, looking out upon the city, "Cæsar Urbis." Owls and bats now haunt the scene of former greatness, and the voice of Echo, the "Daughter of the Arches," no longer gives back the sounds of revelry, the chorus of applause, or murmurs of discontent, which made up the history of that ancient Empire which fell before the sword of Othman in the Valley of the Lycus. Close by is a little postern gate in the curtain connecting the last two towers of the Walls of Theodosius; it was called the Kerko Porta, and legend lingered round it. During the last day of the siege, in May of 1453, a rumour ran along the lines of the defence that the Turks had gained admission by this gate. They did so, but were driven out again by the last Emperor's bravery, which, however, only delayed the inevitable result of Mohammed's fierce assault. Ever since then the Greeks believed that when the City should be recaptured by Christians, they would enter by this gate. The Turks heard of this tradition, and when the Slavs were pouring down the Valley of the Maritza, and approaching Stamboul, they pulled down the curtain so that the Russians might not enter by the Kerko Porta, and replaced it by a smaller wall. Beyond the ruined palace the moat ends abruptly, but the walls continue higher and of greater strength. History clings round them; they recall names of famous men who lived their day, Manuel Comnenus, who was to old Byzant what Manoel O Fortunate was to mediæval Portugal. Anna Comnena, daughter of the first Alexius, who wrote the history of her father's reign, a record of insincerity. Anne and her mother Irene conspired to poison John, her brother, who proved one of the worthiest of the latter Emperors of the East. The last dynasty of Byzant, the Palæologi, is responsible for the high walls and towers that follow the walls of the Comneni towards the Golden Horn. John VII (Palæologus) had them repaired in 1441, for the last time probably, until Johannes Grant, a German engineer in the service of the Greeks, under cover of darkness, directed his workers to secure the portions of the wall that had suffered most heavily under the fire of Turkish ordnance. In the plain below is yet another sombre mass of ancient masonry, peculiar in design, for it has the appearance of two towers joined together. They differ in structure, one built of carefully cut stone, with courses of brickwork, the other roughly put together, and from it marble pillars project like cannon. These are the towers of Anemas and Isaac Angelus, the former descendant of a Saracen Emir who was converted to Christianity when young and in captivity, and distinguished himself in several campaigns under John Zimisces; he was killed in a personal encounter with Swiatoslav, the Russian King. The other tower is said to have been the quarters of the imperial bodyguard, the Varangians, whose conduct in the field shines out brightly against the records of cowardice and the treachery which inspired the policy of the later Greek Empire. The name Varangian is probably derived from the Teuton "Fortganger," forthgoer, signifying men who had left their country in search of adventure. The first of these Varangians were probably Norsemen, who suddenly emerged from the darkness of their northern shores to prey as pirates upon the settled communities, and found their way through the Mediterranean Sea to Byzant. The fame of this warriors' Eldorado reached other northern nations, so from England came big-limbed Saxons, impatient of the Norman Conqueror's discipline. Danes, too, were to be found amongst the ranks of the Eastern Emperor's bodyguard, their weighty battle-axes and stout hearts performing those deeds of valour which Anna Comnena was wont to ascribe to that vainglorious hypocrite, her father, Emperor Alexius I. Here, by these towers, the old defences of Constantinople end in heavy masses of ruined masonry. One Sunday morning the sound of heavy firing coming from the west, from the present-day defences of Constantinople, the lines of Chatalja, drew me out into the open country. I left the City by the Egri Kapoo, the Crooked Gate, formerly the Gate of the Kaligari, the shoemakers, when the Court of Byzant lived here by the Palaces of Cæsar. Little wooden houses stand on the low ground beyond the gate, on the road down to a plain by the Golden Horn. In one of those houses lives Ali, the master-weaver. He was pursuing his vocation leisurely in his little workshop below the level of the road. "The war!" said Master Ali, "the war affects me not at all." So I went on towards the sound of the guns, past the open space by the water where Simeon, Tsar of all the Bulgarians, after defeating the Greeks in battle, met the Emperor Romanus Lecapenus, and dictated harsh terms. Simeon knew the Greeks well; he and many of his followers had been educated at Byzant, and the culture he thus gained helped him to defeat his teachers. Bulgarians still come to Constantinople for education, at Robert College; among them was M. Gueshof, Tsar Ferdinand's Prime Minister--and the Bulgarians were again outside Constantinople, hammering at its defences, the lines of Chatalja. I walked out far into the country that Sunday, over the rolling plains, up hill and down dale, drawn by the sound of gun-fire, which has a mighty attraction for me; it is a strong, invigorating sound. There were few indications of war, though fighting was in progress not many miles away; villagers sat on little stools outside the cafés, over the uneven roads the carts of refugees rolled, creaking towards Constantinople. Here and there I met a party of stragglers, weary soldiers, unarmed, their faces set towards the east where, over the domes of the mosques, the hills of Asia showed faintly, their outlines broken by tall minarets. When evening fell upon the desolate landscape I retraced my steps towards the City, where lights were twinkling and casting broken reflections upon the waters of the Golden Horn. Through the narrow streets of the Phanar, where silent figures flitted across my path, to vanish into some little wooden house or other, with its latticed windows, an air of unconcern prevailed, though men were dying out there, some fifty miles away. Through the crowded purlieus of Galata, up the steep, ill-paved streets to Pera, with its hotels, clubs, cafés, and vicious imitations of Parisian entertainments. On the following day I went out towards the lines of Chatalja again, this time by sea. We were a party of five--a British consular official; a British naval officer, instructor to the Sultan's war fleet; two Turks, one a naval officer, the other a captain of artillery; and I, a peripatetic author and artist. We sailed out from the Golden Horn as the sun was struggling to break through heavy banks of cloud; huge warships of different nations loomed large in the pale grey light of early morning, and here and there a twinkling light drew flickering response from the moving waters. As the daylight increased the ancient sea defences of Constantinople took definite form, above them the mosques and minarets of conquering Sultans. We sped past the Marble Tower, looking chill under a heavy grey sky; above it rose the broken towers of Yedi Koulé, past Makri Keui, and round the blunt promontory where San Stefano stands in all its misery of disease, to where the land rises west of Küjük Chekmedje. Here we anchored about half a mile from the shore, hauled in a duck-punt which had soared behind us all the way, and, rowed by an alleged sailor of the Sultan's navy, made for the shore. There was some water rolling greasily in the duck-punt as we started, it increased in volume, and by the time we drew near the beach we had our feet well under water. The Turkish naval officer and the gunner sat in the bows, the other passengers astern; and the naval expert lent by our Admiralty directed the oarsman to pull us sideways on the beach, as a quite noticeable sea was coming in on our starboard quarter, and our demands (if any) in that line were already fully satisfied. However, the Turkish A.B. (perhaps I flatter him, but flattery is an important item in Oriental colouring) thought fit to attempt a landing which would give us the full benefit of what sea there was. The British expert, when our crank craft first felt the shingle, ordered our Turkish friends to jump ashore. The sailor did so at once, the soldier required time, for he was wrapped in a long grey overcoat, carried a sword, and, moreover, wore boots ill-suited to such enterprise. The duck-punt thereupon began to behave with unseemly levity, and in rolling shipped a deal of water, so that we who sat astern indulged in the unasked-for luxury of a hipbath, alfresco, and, moreover, attired for quite another purpose. Alas! all my dear mother's good precepts anent avoiding wet feet went by the board. However, we got ashore, so did the duck-punt too, in time; I hear she lies there still, her leaky bottom upwards, a silent witness to our undaunted bravery. [Illustration: THE LINES OF CHATALJA The south extremity of the lines by the Sea of Marmora. The road leads down to the village of Küjük Chekmedje, with its bridge across which the Bulgarians attempted an attack, but were checked by the fire of a Turkish warship in the bay.] We made inland over the rising uplands till we could look down upon the Lake of Buyük Chekmedje, from the extreme left of the Turkish defence--the lines of Chatalja. A road leads over the several outflows of the lake by a bridge of many arches. Here the Bulgarians had attempted an assault some days before, and had been baffled by those that held the trenches searing the hill-side to the eastward, and by the guns of a Turkish warship lying off the coast. At our feet lay the lake, beyond it ridges of rising ground, melting away into a broken line to northward. It was a most peaceful scene, for the warship was hidden by a shoulder of land, and there were no Turkish troops in sight, nor any of their enemies. We had met only a few people on our way; a Turkish patrol, who seemed mildly concerned about us, and some shepherds with their flocks, all equally indifferent to the great doings that are filling the world's daily papers with exciting copy, a credit to the inventive genius of the modern journalist. The shepherds stood out like statues on the skyline, and of rather quaint shape, which I discovered to be due to the strange fashion of their cloaks, the sleeves of which stick out in an acute angle, and are not used for their original purpose at all. We wandered still further inland, not in a compact body, for the Turkish gunner-man was a very deliberate walker and, like most of his race, not prone to undue haste. Nevertheless, we arrived in time at a Turkish camp of some fifteen hundred men, a camp which could be traced by scent as well as view. It stood below the skyline on some rising ground, which sloped steeply towards the enemy's position, and gave evidence of a complete absence of any kind of sanitation. The Caimakam (Lieutenant-Colonel) commanding welcomed us politely, and after having ascertained that nothing whatever had happened that day, and that no one expected anything to happen, because rumours of a truce were afloat, we thought of making our way home. This meant walking back to Küjük Chekmedje, where we hoped to find some boat to take us out to our launch. The walking party tailed off on the way, the British element forging ahead, the Turkish lagging behind, to allow the former to cool down in the north wind while waiting for the rear-guard, until at last we found a boat and were rowed out to the launch. I heard a shot or two from the land, coming in our direction perhaps; possibly the Turkish patrols, finding no Bulgars to shoot at, thought fit to practise on us; however, like so much of the shooting done in modern warfare, even the best-conducted, it was perfectly harmless. So again I returned to Constantinople, and passed through Sunday crowds quite indifferent to the events in progress some fifty miles away, at those lines of Chatalja, planned by Valentine Baker Pasha, and since his time neglected till they became the only barrier between the Sublime Porte and ruin. It is strange, though enlightening, to reflect that while the Turkish Army was being driven back from the frontiers, while ill-equipped bodies of Turkish troops, leaderless, were being driven before a highly trained enemy, the lines of Chatalja, the last defence of Constantinople, were left unarmed, unguarded, but for a couple of elderly men whose duty it was to see that doors, shutters, and other bits of woodwork were not removed by the genial neighbours for firewood. But this is Turkey, an Empire that has traded on its position as apple of discord for centuries, and has never been able to take thought for the morrow--nomads, here to-day and gone to-morrow. CHAPTER IX Turkish literature--Turkish proverbs--The literature of other Tartars--Legend of Turkish descent--The origin of the Turks--The Turks and Giougen--The Turks with the Eastern Empire--Arab subjection of the Turks--The Turks and Western civilization--The Turkish Navy--The Sultan's Army--The lines of Chatalja--The refugees--View from the Mosque of Mihrama--The Mosque of Mohammed the Conqueror--The care of the sick and wounded. The history of the Turks has formed the subject of much scientific research, hampered considerably by a want of material, by a lack of information on the subject, handed down from earlier days. The Turks themselves have no liking for literature, have no bent in that direction, and all they have ever produced in that line are a series of stories relating the doings and sayings of Nasreddin Hodja, whose rôle is much like that of Till Eulenspiegel in Germany. These stories of Nasreddin Effendi are humorous in their way, but are to a great extent too indecent for the fastidious Western mind. The humour, too, is of the obvious order, from which the West is gradually, painfully emerging. I will give only one sample of Nasreddin's wit. This worthy was awakened one night by a noise in his garden. He went to the open window, looked out, and saw something large and white moving about below. Nasreddin took down his bow, his quiver full of arrows, and sent one in the direction of the white object, then returned to bed and to sleep. The next morning he went out into his garden to ascertain the cause of the nocturnal disturbance, and discovered his shirt, hung out to dry, transfixed by the arrow. "How fortunate it is that I was not inside that shirt last night," quoth Nasreddin. Proverbs give some idea of the working of a people's soul, but in this respect too the Turk is not very prolific, certainly not original. Herewith a few samples: Ei abdal! Ei dervish! Aktché ilé biter beriche. Freely translated: Oh, monk! Oh, dervish! money will take you anywhere! The sentiment has nothing to recommend it, and is certainly better expressed by La Fontaine: Quelles affaires ne fait point Ce malheureux métal, l'argent maître du monde. Or again: Abdel Sekkédé, hadji Mekkédé. (The monk to the convent, the pilgrim to Mecca.) Also to be found in other languages: Chasseur dans les bois, voyageur sur la route, Les hommes, commes les mots n'out de prix qu'à leur place. (_Pariset._) Or the simpler German: Schuster bleib' bei deiner Leiste. There are no epics in the Turkish language, yet their wanderings should have called forth some such ebullition had they ever had some slight tendency to rise out of their primordial inarticulateness. They have little songs which the Anatolian peasants sing when the day's work is done, which sound through the latticed windows of the women's secluded chambers. But these songs are generally of love or homely matter, and do not tend to inspire the listener with ambition to emulate the deeds of his fathers for the honour and glory of his race and country. Other races emerging from barbarism to this day sing of their national heroes. What traveller along the lower reaches of the Danube has not listened to those bands of wandering Tsigani? Then again, the Highlands of Scotland ring still with the recital of some great clan leader's doughty deeds. True, they are mostly tales of strife and bloodshed, but they hold the germs of history and record it in the manner most likely to lead others to higher aims. Of all this the Turk knows nothing. No epic tells of those days when his wild forebears left the congeries of nomad tribes which haunted the hunting-grounds north of the Hwang-Ho, of Tibet, and the rolling plains beyond the Hindu-Kush. Mongol and Manchu, Tartar and Magyar, forming groups of nomad tribes, akin and possibly speaking the same primitive language, which, when history became articulate, only differed in vocabulary, hardly at all in structure, as it does so widely from Aryan and Chinese. Of these races Manchu and Tartar have risen to greatness; Manchu till recently reigned over China from Peking, while one Osmanli, descendant of a wandering Tartar tribe, sits in the seat of former Roman Emperors of the East. The Finns, belonging to the same race, have in the course of centuries developed a literature of a high order, and are among the most enlightened of the children of the Tsar of all the Russias; Hungary's history lives in glowing epics and passionate song; and both these scions of the same stock are valuable factors in the æsthetic life of Europe. But the Manchus have fled from Peking after centuries of dark incompetence, and the Sultan, whose palace stands on the European banks of the Bosphorus, has during his short reign seen the provinces won by the sword of Othman torn from him by younger nations, whose soul has been nourished by stirring recital of their former greatness, whose heroes live in song and epic, which by these puts heart into the warrior and leads him on to victory. Now those young nations are without the gates of Constantinople; they have reduced the Turkish Empire in Europe to a narrow strip of land between the Bosphorus and a line of defences, stretching from the Sea of Marmora to the Black Sea, the lines of Chatalja. The Turks themselves claim descent from Japheth, the son of Noah, as do the Armenians, by the way, and there is no reason to dispute with them about their traditional ancestor, who, by all accounts, was a most respectable person, and will serve as well as any other for genealogical mystification. Undoubtedly the Turks and their origin began to attract attention comparatively early in the history of Europe, and an English historian (Knolles) of the seventeenth century writes of them as follows: "The glorious empire of the Turks, the present terrour of the world, hath amongst other things nothing in it more wonderful or strange than the poor beginning of itself, so small and obscure as that it is not well knowne unto themselves, or agreed upon even among the best writers of their histories; from whence this barbarous nation that now so triumpheth over the best part of the world, first crept out and took their beginning. Some (after the manner of most nations) derive them from the Trojans, led thereunto by the affinity of the word Turci and Teucri; supposing (but with what probability I know not) the word Turci, or Turks, to have been made of the corruption of the word Teucri, the common name of the Trojans." Others have ingeniously endeavoured to identify the Turks with the lost "Ten Tribes"; these mysterious people have frequently been called upon to act as ancestors to modern nations. I remember well an English matron, mother of a promising family, who tried to foist this ancestry upon the people of Great Britain. However, she was advised to look at her domestic treasures, and the sight of her snub-nosed offspring seriously shook her strange belief. Perhaps, though it seems no adequate reason, the constant infusion of fresh blood, the mixing by marriage with the women of conquered or conquerors, has prevented a national expression of sentiment based on historic facts, and the Turks, even before they emerged from distant Asia, had absorbed several other races not akin to them, or had been absorbed by some temporarily more powerful nation. There is sufficient reason to suppose that the Iranians, the original inhabitants of Bokhara, were the foundation and predominant note in the tribes which after a while became defined as Turks. The Chinese seem to have been the first to become acquainted with the Turks, and that so long ago as 1300 B.C. Chinese records of 300 B.C. mention a warlike race called Hiung-nu. Vigorous, active, restless, always on horseback, these savages hovered round the frontiers of the Celestial Empire. They were, it seems, divided into tribes, which when not acting in concert on some greater raid, probably behaved much as Scottish clans did not so long ago, and quarrelled and fought amongst each other. So it appears that a clan called the Asena sought the protection of a stronger one, which Gibbon called the Giougen, or Jwen-jwen. The Asena settled for a while in the district where now stands Shan-tan, in which district a hill called Dürkö (helmet), from its shape, is said to have originated the name "Turk." In course of time, about a century, the Asena began to feel their strength and tried it on their hosts, the result a massacre of Giougen and their disappearance from the pages of history. Again no epic tells us the stirring story of those days, and what is known is due to the researches of men like Chavannes and E. H. Parker. But the Turks from this time came into the field of history and into the purview of the West; they had gained in strength and importance with astounding rapidity, and were making their presence felt on the nations to westward of their former haunts. They still clung to their habits of nomadic hunters, but, it seems, engaged in trade as well, carrying goods for others in their caravans, connecting East and West with links of doubtful trustiness. It was through this trading that they first came into contact with the Western world. Persia stood in the way of this young Turkey's commercial development, and would insist on Turkish silks finding their outlet to the Persian Gulf rather than by the roads of the old Roman Empire of the East. Thus it came that Turkish envoys sought out Emperor Justin at Constantinople. The Emperor was somewhat chary of dealing with these strangers, but little more than half a century later Turkish warriors were assisting Heraclius against the Persians. As the Turks increased in number they felt the need of further expansion, so a section of them made its way north towards Lake Baikal and menaced China, but were subdued in 630. China then set about creating ill-feeling between the two sections of the Turkish people, the northern and the western tribes, and brought about a division which seems to have been final. In the meantime another force had arisen in Asia Minor which was destined to overrun that district, surge into Syria, conquer Egypt and the African countries washed by the Mediterranean Sea, and send its tide up against the barriers of the Pyrenees. The Arabs had come from out of the desert and, fired by the teachings of the Prophet Mohammed, had carried their green banner victorious over the ruins of former Empires. The Caliphate, the Arab Empire, grew as rapidly under the immediate successors of the Prophet as the Turkish State, if it could be so called, had done a century before. Persia went under before the furious onslaught of the Arabs in 639, and the conquerors overflowing into Transoxania had subjected the peoples living there by 714. The Arabs spread westward as well, and only forty-six years after the flight of Mohammed from Mecca to Medina, in the seventh century the Sea of Marmora was alive with the lateen sails of the swarthy marauders. They dashed out their souls against the strong defences of Constantinople, the Walls of Theodosius, in successive attempts to capture the City of fabulous wealth, but were forced to retire defeated. However, the Turks, who nearly ten centuries later broke down those stout defences, became subject to the Caliphate. This applies to the Western Turks only; they vanished as a political entity and gradually became converted to a creed well suited to bring out the qualities of a high-spirited, martial race of nomads. It sanctified their lust of blood and conquest, and gave fuller force to this people's fighting spirit by imposing the strict discipline of Islam, "obedience," but made no mention of that broad tolerance breathed by the Founder of Christianity to which the West owes so much of its civilization. It is doubtful though whether those early Turkish tribes, if they had come under the influence of Christianity instead of Islam, would have advanced any further on the path of culture than they have arrived to-day. Though they have been in contact with the West since the seventh century, though they conquered the Empire of the East and made its Christian peoples their subjects, and from the City of Constantine overflowed Eastern Europe up to the gates of Vienna, yet the Turk has learnt nothing. This people, still nomad, has taken nothing from the West but a misunderstood, misapplied idea of representative Government which failed at its inception and has hastened the downfall of the Ottoman Empire in Europe. It has absorbed nothing but a dim idea of a military organization which when applied to a civilized, cultured nation makes for military perfection, when attempted on nomads leads to such debacles as the plains of Thessaly, the mountainous districts of Macedonia, and the stricken fields of Thrace have recently witnessed. British naval officers have for years been acting as instructors to the Turkish Navy, which from a collection of obsolete iron tanks has to outward appearance assumed the semblance of a war fleet; left to themselves, what has that fleet done to help Turkey in her present straits? The Greek Navy is afloat and preventing transhipment of Turkish troops from Asia Minor--but the Sultan's fleet did not move out to help! Only some mines were laid and allowed to float about the southern entrance to the Dardanelles, endangering foreign commerce from which Turkish officials indirectly draw their means of livelihood. The "Hamidieh," her officers warned time and again to take precautions against torpedo attack, was laid up in dock with a gaping rent in her bows caused by a Bulgarian torpedo, and only the "Khairreddin Barbarossa," named after Turkey's greatest sailor, lying at the southern end of the lines of Chatalja, has taken any part in a war in which naval power, properly applied, could have turned the fortunes of the day.[5] [5] Since this was written the Turkish fleet has emerged from hiding once or twice, and shown some signs of activity. Both Turks and Greeks have laid claim to victories at sea. The sea-coast of Bulgaria lay exposed; a strong naval force to escort transport would have made practicable a landing of Turkish troops behind the enemy's lines and threatened his communications, thus checking his advance on Adrianople. But the Turkish Navy was content to throw a few shells into a harmless convent, or monastery, at Varna. Possibly there were no transports, probably there was no definite scheme, but certainly there was no navy commensurate with the power assumed by the Osmanli in the comity of European nations. Money was spent on the Sultan's navy, and it failed. Money, much money, was given for the Sultan's army. The highly trained officers, carefully selected from Europe's most efficient military organization, were acquired as instructors, and worked hard at what must have seemed the labours of Sisyphus. The Sultan's army took the field, and all the work of years seemed as if thrown away. Instead of military organization there was chaos. Nominal army corps with staff and commanders figured on paper. In reality commanders of army corps, divisions, brigades waited for the troop trains at wayside stations, and as each tactical unit detrained and fell in on the platforms, these commanders without commands gathered together such units as they thus found and extemporized commands. Transport failed completely, and at Rodosto men landing from Asia Minor cried for bread, hundreds strayed starving in search of food for five and six days on end, and then were driven back by cavalry into the firing line--to fight! Of all the costly engines of war ordered and paid for, field telegraphs, field telephones, not one was in evidence. Thousands of Anatolian peasants, greybeards and youths, swelled the ranks, untrained many of them, some only used to muzzle-loading rifles. Some two hundred thousand of these men, Turkish soldiers, clung on to the lines of Chatalja; others, in thousands, stragglers from the battlefield, collected from day to day in the purlieus of Stamboul and returned unwilling to the front. Among these were even officers--an official announcement ordered the imams, the priests, to render to the military police authorities lists of all officers living in the streets of their respective districts--officers here in the capital of an Empire, the existence of which in Europe is threatened as gravely as was ever any Empire of the world, and out in the West, but fifty miles away, is the front, the line of Chatalja's defences, result of Valentine Baker Pasha's military skill. Impregnable, they say, are those lines, and that they would be, and will remain, if all available sons of Othman put their backs into the work. Yet there were officers and men of the Sultan's army frittering away their time and wasting opportunities of at last doing something for the country they profess to love, here in the capital with the enemy hammering at the outer defences. And would it be believed, those lines of Chatalja, just before the debacle of Lüle Burgas, were left in charge of two men, whose function was to see that no thief removed doors, shutters, or any other portable trifles from the many Government buildings on the lines! It is no wonder that the example set by many officers of the Sultan's army had discouraged the troops, who, seeing everything going against them, starving, diseased, turned their weary eyes homeward to the East, to Asia, the Turk's real home, and dragged their tired, wounded limbs over the incredibly bad roads till the soaring minarets and their rivals the cypresses, the domes of mosques built to commemorate the conquests of former warrior Osmanli, gladdened their sight. Beyond those imposing temples lay the sea, and across it, only a little way, Anatolia--Home. [Illustration: THE MOSQUE OF MOHAMMED Built to commemorate the Conqueror of Constantinople. He lies buried under the shadow of this Mosque.] Of the thousands of broken-spirited, ignorant peasant-soldiers who left their country's colours, a term the inner meaning of which was incomprehensible to the majority of them, many fell by the way. Thousands clambered into railway trucks, on to the roofs, of any train starting for the base, and of these many died and their comrades threw them out by the way; corpses strewed the railway embankments. Many reached St. Stefano, where preliminary peace was signed after another Northern foe, Russia, had defeated the Osmanli in the field. Of these one-third, it is said, died of cholera, exposure, starvation, their festering bodies covering the pavements. Considerable numbers reached Stamboul and took refuge in the mosques, perhaps hoping that Allah might help them out of their affliction. St. Sophia was crowded with sick and despondent humanity, the flotsam and jetsam of a war of East and West: one side all unprepared, purposeless, corrupt; the other in well-ordered array, conscious of power and of purpose, and using intelligently all the dread weapons of modern warfare. With the fugitive soldiery came columns of refugees, peasants of Thrace and Macedonia, Pomaks--Bulgarian converts to Islam; they came across the rolling plains with all their portable belongings, their trail marked by an occasional grave, by a dead horse or bullock by the roadside. These, too, sought shelter in the courtyards of the mosques; they streamed in at the City gates, chiefly Edirné Kapoo, as the Turks renamed the ancient Gate of Adrianople. I have seen them here herded without the gate awaiting admission, crowded in the courtyard of the Mosque of Mihrama, which occupies the site of a church once dedicated to St. George in the days of old Byzant. St. George, the patron saint of warriors, was entrusted with the defence of Constantine's City here where the Walls of Theodosius reach this highest point. A glorious view spreads at your feet from their height; past groves of solemn cypress trees, which cast their long shadows over the graves of faithful followers of the Prophet, thousands of whom in distant ages assailed the strong defences of the City, your eye travels along the hoary walls, over a ruined palace to where Galata arises beyond the Golden Horn. Forests of masts, smoke rising from the funnels of ocean-going steamers or busy ferry-boats speak of commercial activity contrasting with the Oriental repose of Stamboul at your feet. Little wooden houses, some of warm purply greys, others are painted with some bright colour; fig trees and cypresses on the rising ground towards the east, where many mosques, the only lasting monument a Turk builds, stand out above the clustering houses, their blue-grey domes crowned with gleaming crescent, light against the deep blue of the Anatolian mountains, attendant minarets a dazzling white against the southern sky. And then to southward another mosque or so with minaret and sentinel cypress, and over them the sparkling waters of the Sea of Marmora, where the Prince's Islands seem floating in the fairy haze of a southern summer day. This was when I saw it a few short years ago; to-day the sky is grey and cloudy, the smoke hangs heavy over the leaden waters of the Golden Horn, mosques and minarets loom dark against the faint, watery outlines of the distant hills, the fig trees have shed their leaves and throw out writhing arms against winter's inclemency, and sullen cypresses bend ungraciously before the north wind. Grey despondency is the keynote of the picture, for from the south-west and the west, and from the north-east, the foes have gathered in strength and hold Constantinople in bonds, and beyond those dark heights to westward an enemy, strong and purposeful, is demanding admission to Turkey's last foothold in Europe. The untidy street from Edirné Kapoo to the heart of Stamboul is punctuated here and there by mosques--there is the Mosque of Mihrama, already mentioned, where once stood a Christian church; there is the Mosque of Mohammed II the Conqueror, built on the site of a church dedicated to the Holy Apostles, for long the resting-place of those far-off Byzantine Emperors, the last of whom perished when the City fell before the sword of Othman. Around it stand the academies where are trained those destined to expound the teaching of the Prophet. Under a wintry sky, amidst the squalor of a people incapable of elementary hygiene, the glory of the Conqueror's deeds is dimmed, and the vanquished, despondent sons of his fierce warriors huddle in groups about this monument to an epoch-making victory. The road leads for a while along an aqueduct attributed to Valens, the Emperor who was killed in battle at Adrianople by the Goths. Bulgarians are this day holding the city of Emperor Hadrian in an iron vice. Along here are other ruins, more recent, the result of a fire probably; no rebuilding has been attempted, everywhere is dirt, squalor, and decay. The street opens out on to a large square, one side of which is occupied by the Seraskierat, the War Office. From here came the order to the Sultan's officers that they should pack up their full-dress uniforms for the triumphal entry of the Othman army into Sofia. To-day weary stragglers from the battlefields of Thrace lean against the walls of the Seraskierat, heavy-eyed, hungry, diseased, despondent. Surely there were some whose business is between these walls cognisant of the real state of affairs! It is said that of some eighteen German instructors sixteen declared the Turkish Army to be quite unfit to take the field; yet those holding office at the Seraskierat heeded not and sent hundreds of thousands in smaller tactical units, under-officered, to take what place they could in the fighting line; no scheme was ready, or if there was no one adhered to it, no adequate provision for commands and staff, for communications, for commissariat preceded the flood of miscellaneous soldiery which flowed out to meet the enemy's advance and then ebbed back, carrying with it all the human wreckage thrown up on to the ill-kept pavements of the mosques of conquerors. And while this mass of suffering Eastern humanity was but fitfully and quite inadequately cared for by the Turkish authorities, Western humanity was putting forth its finest efforts to alleviate this awful distress by all the means of Western civilization, against which the Turk is making his last stand. In the old Seraglio, at Galata and Pera hospitals have been opened to receive the sick and wounded soldiers of the Sultan, and they now readily make their way to where the Red Crescent flies by the side of the ensigns of Great European Powers. I know fair English women, all unused to the sights and sounds, the aftermath and echo of glorious war, who are giving all their strength to works of mercy, Germans and Austrians, French and Italians, all moved by the spirit which informs Christianity. Do they expect gratitude in return, I wonder! I hope not, for they are likely to be disappointed. One gentle lady I know of, who has worked hard amongst all this misery, asked some of her patients whether in case of a massacre of Christians they would at least protect those who had nursed them back to life. After some deliberation the answer came: "No, not that. But we would kill you first, so that you may escape torture, and worse, from others." Again, at a meeting where many ladies were busy preparing hospital necessaries, the talk turned to the question of a massacre of Christians. A Turkish lady, a lady of high degree, turned on her fellow-workers and declared that should her people be driven to the last extremity they would certainly wreak vengeance on the Christian population, and she herself would be the first to incite them, to goad them on to murder and rapine, until the streets should run with the blood of Christians, and Christian habitations became a howling wilderness, to show a horror-stricken world in what manner a race of warriors goes out of history. Personally I do not think any such catastrophe will happen; the Turkish soldiers I saw daily straggling into hospital are too broken in spirit, too sick in mind and body, to carry out such atrocities as those with which they have from time to time sullied the pages of their history. Nevertheless, those two accounts I have given above, of the truth of which I am convinced, prove to me that when the Turk finally leaves Europe he will take with him nothing which the West has tried to teach him, least of all any conception of the divine quality of mercy. CHAPTER X The Turkish character--The rise of Turkish power--Earliest days of Turkish history--Conquest of Persia and Egypt--Turkish soldiers of the Caliphate--Samanids' conquests in India--The rise of the Seljuks--Arslan and his victories--Europe in the eleventh and twelfth centuries--The Crusades--Jenghiz Khan and his people--The first appearance of the Osmanli--Erthogrul--The rule of Othman--Othman and Dundar--The capture of Broussa--Death of Othman--The reign of Orkhan--The army of Ala-ed-din--Orkhan's capture of Nicæa. Although I cannot write with approval of Turkish rule and its effect on the European provinces conquered by the now blunted sword of Othman, yet I feel a certain sympathy for the Turk, as individual, in this day of his trial. Sympathy is due to a variety of influences, and I feel that in the present instance my lingering liking for the Turk is based on several grounds. First of all, perhaps, comes the fondness you cannot but feel for a wayward child and its picturesque moods, more especially as I myself was quite the "wandering sheep," as the hymn says, when young, and am not disinclined towards an excursion off the narrow way even now. Hence a fellow feeling with the nomad Turk, who, though generally placid, is capable of being roused to fury by unseen, unknown influences; in that state, like the wayward child, he is an unmitigated nuisance. In his everyday mood the Turk is gentle and extremely courteous, the courtesy of a strong man, scion of a race of conquerors. This dignified politeness is to be met in certain parts of Spain, where conquering Moors made their impress on native Iberians and valiant Goths. Again, the nomad virtue, hospitality, is strong among the sons of Othman. I have also met fine intellects among the Turks, for instance, in one of the Princes of the Blood, a man of a refined mind, deeply read in Nietzsche, and of no mean skill with the brush. But he was only a painter; his studies from life were excellent, and some have gained admission to the Paris Salon, but creative artist he certainly was not, and the subject pictures evolved out of his inner consciousness treated of matters considered peculiarly French in tone, subconsciously erotic, and generally unhappy in treatment. But then the Turk has little, if any, constructive power, and even the finer intellects among them are apt to waste their treasures on abstract speculations, leading to no practical result; their course may be likened to that of a slender stream of water poured forth on some endless desert waste. Another bond of sympathy is the history of the Turkish race, which should appeal strongly to every Briton, for in a manner there is much similarity between the rise of Turkish power and that of the British Empire. Wild men from the northern seas, Angles and Saxons, Danes, Vikings, Berserks, seethed into the British Isles, and, mixing with the Romanized native population, rose to greatness through much tribulation. The narrow confines of Britain forced this amalgam to conquests overseas, and thus arose the British Empire. Is there not some analogy between our rule in India and that of the Osmanli in Europe? We, in India, form a separate ruling caste, placed in power by the sword; we do not mix with the many native tribes and nations under the British Raj, many whose duty takes them to India cannot give an accurate account of these various tribes and nations; they know not their languages, their customs are strange to them, and when their work is done they return to enjoy the fruits of their labour with but an imperfect knowledge of the land that gave them what they hold and of the people who lived their mysterious life outside the compound and the courthouse. So it is with the Turk in Europe. His people overflowed from Asia on successive waves of conquest, and made subject many nations with which they have nothing, absolutely nothing, in common, and with whom, unlike the Briton, the Turk does not desire any closer acquaintanceship. To me, as Briton, the present situation, the happenings of the last few weeks, "give furiously to think." Here is a powerful Empire, carved out of Europe by the sword, and held by conquerors who despised their alien subjects, and failed to understand their feelings or realize their ambitions, closed their eyes in smug contentment to the portents of the time. Then came the avalanche, and young nations, hitherto disregarded as serious opponents, rose in their strength, tore themselves free, rent province after province from the weak hands of an unprepared overlord, and are now threatening the capital of the Turkish Empire. From the courtyard of the Sublime Porte, where Turkey's devious policy has been fashioned for so long, from the square in front of the War Office, which suddenly awakened, hurried untrained troops under untrained leaders, without a definite plan, to death by shot and shell, by starvation and disease; you could hear the sound of guns carried on the westerly wind from the lines of Chatalja, the last defences of the capital, where the remnants of the Sultan's army are standing at bay against the organized forces of young Western nations. It is a stirring history, full of ups and downs, that of the Turkish people. As we have seen, they emerged from a seething mass of nomadic humanity which infested Central Asia, and threatened those Empires which had settled and acquired civilization, such as China, whence, by the way, come some of the earliest records of the Turks. These nomads had no other use for civilization than to acquire unearned riches; whatever seemed to them undesirable was destroyed, and to this day the Turk has not advanced much further; he frequently changes his abode, and the change is easily effected, as he has few belongings--some rugs, a text or two from the Koran, his cooking utensils. Even in his home he seems to have only dropped in for a week or so, and the curtains instead of doors to separate one apartment from another still further recall his old nomadic habits. So his ancestors roamed about in hordes over the plains of Asia. Where they met with little resistance they abode awhile, moving on when the locality had nothing more to offer, retiring elsewhere when met with determined opposition. As the tribes increased in numbers they went separate ways, some to extinction, others to form ephemeral empires such as that of the Ghaznevids in Eastern Afghanistan, in the latter days of the tenth century. The influence of the Turks on Western Europe did not make itself felt until after the Crusades, because they had much ado to make and keep their position in Asia Minor. A short time after the Prophet's death, his general, Khaled, "The Sword of God," subdued the Persian Army, and gained it for his master, Caliph Abu Bekr, in whose reign Syria was conquered from the Eastern Emperor Heraclius, and Ecbatana and Damascus became Moslem towns like Mecca and Medina. Then followed a noble line of Caliphs, under whose sway Islam extended its frontiers and rolled in threatening waves towards the West. Omar's general, Amron, added Egypt to the Empire of the Caliphs, who made Damascus their capital. Legend and history tell of those days of the Caliphs, when Arab art, literature, and science flourished under such sovereigns as Haroun-al-Raschid, the contemporary of Charlemagne, Al Mamun, in whose days Western Christianity gave birth to the Order of Benedictines when Gregory IV was Pope in the beginning and middle of the ninth century. We have seen how the Turks came into contact with the Arabs, and were subdued by them and converted to Islam in the eighth century, and how by degrees they recovered their strength and were able to assist the Caliphate in the troubles that crowded in upon it, how fifty thousand Turkish mercenaries were taken into the service of the Caliph, and occupied much the same position as that held by the Prætorian Guard of Rome, the Janissaries of the Ottoman Empire, and the Mamelukes in Egypt. Turkish influence thus increased steadily, and was first marked more definitely by a dynasty called the Samanids, who seem to have considered themselves vassals of the Abbasid Caliphs. In the interests of the Caliphate the roaming Samanids pushed forward into India, conquering Delhi, Multan, and Lahore towards the end of the tenth century. Their victorious course was not checked till they reached the Ganges, and Mahmud, their chief, styled himself Sultan. It appears that he still acknowledged allegiance to the Caliphs, but his successors assumed greater independence as the power of the Caliphate waned. In the meantime another Turkish dynasty rose to notice--the Seljuks, who appeared under their leaders Thogrul and Chakir. This bearer of a name famous in history and romance, Thogrul, son of Suleiman, accidentally drowned in the Euphrates, was, it seems, wandering about like a true nomad, accompanied by his tribesmen. He was on his way to Iconium, Konia, probably with the idea of interfering in any fight that might be in progress, when he found the troops of Kaim the Caliph flying before the hosts of Masud, the son of Mahmud of Ghazin. Thogrul espoused the losing cause, and his timely assistance turned defeat into victory, for which the Caliph was so grateful that his new ally was rewarded with the Principality of Sultan Oeni, or the Sultan's Front, and appointed, as it were, Warden of the Marches. This happened towards the middle of the eleventh century, when the Christian world was very busy with religious differences. The Greek Church decided to break with Rome after the Council of Sutri in 1042, and was too much occupied with vexed questions of dogma to pay attention to the rise of a young race of nomads in a former province of the Roman Empire. Nevertheless, these wanderers had given their first proof of prowess, and endorsement followed when the Caliph, with solemn ceremony, handed over the temporal power to Thogrul, at Bagdad, in 1055. Thogrul did not live long after this honour was conferred upon him, but his son Arslan followed in his footsteps, and served his spiritual master, the Caliph, with all his might. To good purpose, for he fought and subdued the Fammiti Caliphs of Egypt, schismatics who had broken from the only Caliph's spiritual sway over a century before; he further annexed Georgia and Armenia, and defeated the Emperor of the East, Romanus IV, towards the end of the eleventh century. The Western world was very young when these things happened; Henry IV, a Frank, ruled over Germany, William of Normandy had not long conquered England, while Malcolm III was King of Scotland; Spain was still divided into small kingdoms and Moorish provinces under the Almoravids, and the Magyars, distant relations of the Turks, were settling down in Hungary under Bela I. Western Christianity was becoming dimly conscious of a growing power in the East, which Byzantium had felt distinctly since practically all the Asiatic provinces had been lost to the Turk, and so Western chivalry buckled on its armour, stitched a Cross on to its coat, and moved Eastward in swarms, composed of enterprising knights, mostly unacquainted with discipline, and their more or less reluctant followers; the Crusades had begun, and were chiefly directed towards the Holy Land and against the Arabs who had conquered there under the waning ægis of the Caliphs. Contemporary accounts, legends, and songs of troubadours tell of the Saracens and their deeds, but little mention is made of the Turks, destined to be Christianity's most formidable foe, who, under the Seljuks, were growing to great importance, and under Melik Shah, the son of Arslan, ruled from Transoxania to Egypt and eastward as far as Khiva. Melik Shah's kingdom fell to pieces after his death, and the power of the Turks was obscured for a time, while the former provinces of the Caliphs broke off into separate states. Crusaders came from the West and added glamour to the pages of history without effecting any lasting results; great names shine out for a moment from the haze, names like Frederick Barbarossa, Saladin, Richard Coeur-de-Lion, but nothing definite need be mentioned about the Turks till the crusading spirit had subsided and the nations of Europe began to settle down into much the same political entities as we find to-day. Another race of kinsmen to the Turks came like a whirlwind out of Asia, under a famous leader, Jenghiz Khan, or rather a mixture of several Mongol races. Their passage did not affect Asia Minor immediately, for they swept from China over Southern Russia towards Moravia, penetrating as far as the Adriatic; they went as swiftly as they came, but stopped short of their old hunting-grounds, and squatted by the banks of the Volga, where, known as the Golden Horde, they stayed some one and a half centuries. Sections of this horde made inroads into neighbouring countries, and one of these invaded Persia and Syria, massacred the inhabitants of Bagdad, killed the Caliph, the last of the dynasty founded by Abul Abbas in 750 A.D. The Seljuks, who held the temporal power in the Caliphate, were likewise badly defeated, and might have gone under completely had not another force appeared most opportunely, one of those wandering Turkish tribes which had a habit of turning up where fighting was going on. Their leader was another Erthogrul, and he traced his descent back to Suleiman. Legend has been busy where history is silent, and assigns to this Erthogrul the same rôle, a _Deus ex machina_, as to the former bearer of that name. Authorities differ on the subject, and I fancy that the whole story is still somewhat obscure. However, Erthogrul had a son Osman, or Othman, from whom are descended the Osmanli of to-day; Othman's long and prosperous reign laid the foundations of the Turkish Empire. His campaigns were crowned with victory, the territory of neighbouring Turkish states were incorporated in his dominions, and the Empire of the East was forced to contribute to the aggrandizement of his realm. It appears that Othman did not declare himself independent until after the death of the last Seljuk Sultan; in the meantime, during an interval of peace--from 1291-1298--he devoted his energies to the internal government of his dominions, and became famous for the toleration which he exercised towards his Christian subjects. It will be remembered that Georgia and Armenia, both Christian countries, had been absorbed by the Caliphate, but at least under the first of the House of Othman these Christians were free from persecution. After several years of peace, during which he consolidated the resources of his country, Othman went to war. In order to give his followers greater zest, and to inflame the fighting spirit of Islam, Othman declared himself the chosen defender of the Faith, and proclaimed that he had a direct mission from heaven. This roused in his warrior subjects a fanaticism as fierce and effective as that which had inspired Mohammed's fiery followers on their career of conquest. His private life was not without an occasional exhibition of those barbarous instincts which have never left the Turk during all the centuries of his contact with the West and its ideas and methods. Thus one day Othman discovered that his venerable uncle, Dundar, was in agreement with several other officers attempting to dissuade him from an attempt on the Greek fortress of Koepri Hissar. Dundar had been one of those four hundred and forty-four horsemen of legend who rode under the banner of Erthogrul. Othman, annoyed at Dundar's interference, drew his bow and shot his uncle dead. So murder of a kinsman marked the first days of the Othman dynasty. The attempt on Koepri Hissar proved successful, and Othman went on from victory to victory. In the beginning of the fourteenth century he fought his way to the Black Sea, leaving Broussa and several other towns to be taken at leisure. But failing health was against him, and he had to leave the conquest of Broussa to Orkhan, his son, who had returned from an expedition against a Mongolian army which the Greek Emperor, unable to stem the tide of Turkish conquest, had bribed to attack the southern frontier of the Ottoman Empire. Othman was dying when the news of the capture of Broussa was brought to him. Bestowing blessings on his son, he said: "My son, I am dying, and I die without regret, because I leave such a good successor as thou. Be just, love goodness, and show mercy. Give the same protection to all thy subjects, and extend the Faith of the Prophet." Orkhan, it seems, followed his father's advice and carried out his instructions; subsequent Osmanli have failed to do so, and are now paying the penalty. A splendid mausoleum built by Orkhan holds the remains of Othman, the founder of the Ottoman dynasty, at Broussa, which became the capital of Turkey until the conquest of Constantinople. The standard and scimitar of Othman are preserved as objects of veneration in the Mosque of Eyub on the Golden Horn. Here each succeeding Sultan is girt with the sword of Othman, the coronation rite, amidst the prayers of his people: "May he be as good as Othman." [Illustration: THE MOSQUE OF EYUB Here each succeeding Sultan is girded with the sword of Othman, a rite equivalent to a Christian monarch's coronation.] Orkhan succeeded his father and continued the work of conquest, gathering in the outlying fragments of the broken Seljuk Empire. He was ably assisted by his brother, Ala-ed-din, whom he had urged to share his throne. Ala-ed-din declined, asking only the revenues of a single village for his maintenance. Then Orkhan said: "Since, brother, you will not accept the flocks and herds I offer you, be the shepherd of my people--be my Vizier." So this high office was instituted. Ala-ed-din devoted himself to the internal politics of the nation, and using the military foundation already existent, fostered by a fighting creed, he built up the military organization which acted so well during centuries when fighting was the only business to which the Osmanli had to bend their minds. The Turks who had followed Othman to victory were the same men who had fed their flocks on the banks of the Euphrates. They formed loose squadrons of irregular cavalry, and after the war returned to their peaceful avocations. Ala-eddin, while still holding that the mass of the nation should be the source whence Ottoman troops should be drawn in time of war, saw the need of a standing army which should make war their sole business and profession, so he raised, first of all, a body of infantry called Jaza, or Piade. These were followed by a corps famous in history--the Janissaries. This corps was entirely composed of Christian children taken in battle or in sieges, and compelled to embrace the Moslem faith. A thousand recruits were added yearly to their numbers, and they were called Jeni Iskeri, or new troops, from which name derives the European corruption, Janissaries. These troops were trained in all martial exercises from their earliest youth, and were subject to the strictest discipline. They were not allowed to form any territorial connection with the land that had adopted them, their prospects of advancement depended entirely on their skill in the profession of arms, and the highest posts in that profession only were open to them. Their isolated position, and the complete community of interests which united them, prevented the degeneracy and enervation which so speedily settled upon every Eastern Empire when once the fire of conquest had died down. Other bodies of the military organization founded by Ala-ed-din were the Spahis (Sipahi, Sepoy), a "corps-d'élite" of specially chosen horsemen, Silihdars, or vassal cavalry, name revived in Silihdar horse of Mysore, a body of cavalry three squadrons strong, the men of which find their own horses and equipment; those raised by Ala-ed-din were drawn from vassal states, those of the Maharajah of Mysore from among the landed proprietors, farmers, and smaller landowners of his principality. Then the Oulou Fedji, or paid horsemen, Ghoureha, or foreign horse, Azab's Light Infantry, and the Akindji, irregular light horse. The Akindji gathered together in irregular companies, acted much as the Hussars of the eighteenth century did when first raised; they foraged for the regular troops, and swarmed round them to cover a retreat or harassed a retiring enemy. They received no pay like the Janissaries, nor lands like the Piade, and were entirely dependent on plunder. This, doubtless, accounted for their unpopularity in countries through which marched the hosts of Othman. Hussars were paid soldiers, but none the less prone to plunder, in those days of the wars between Maria Theresa and Frederick the Great. This tendency was discouraged by the Prussian King, and I remember finding in some of the records an account of three Hussars--one officer and two troopers--being hanged for looting at Frankfurt a. O. Nowadays there are few people more respectable than a Hussar, I know, because I have been one myself, and thus speak from personal experience. The story of a clever ruse is told of one of Orkhan's campaigns against the Greeks. Othman had left Nicæa and Nicomedia untaken. Orkhan took the latter town and invested Nicæa. Andronicus, the Greek Emperor, crossed the Hellespont with a hastily raised levy to raise the siege of Nicæa, but Orkhan met and defeated him with a portion of his army. Now the garrison of Nicæa had been advised of the Emperor's intention, and daily expected his arrival. So Orkhan disguised eight hundred of his men as Greek soldiers, and directed them against the fortress. These pseudo-Greeks, to give the ruse a yet greater semblance of reality, were harassed by mock encounters with Turkish regular horse. The disguised Turks appeared to have routed the enemy and headed for the City gate. The garrison had been watching the proceedings, were thoroughly deceived, and threw open the gate. An assault by the besieging army, assisted by the force that had thus gained ingress, brought the city into Orkhan's possession. By 1336 all north-western Asia Minor was included in the Ottoman Empire, and Orkhan devoted the next twenty years of peace to the work of perfecting his military organization and consolidating the resources of his newly acquired territories, supported by his brother, Ala-ed-din. So the power that was to crush the life out of the failing Empire of the East stood armed and waiting for a favourable moment on the eastern shore of the Bosphorus. Turkish rule was predominant over all Asia Minor, and a young nation, strong and armed, watched for the moment to interfere with an old, effete Empire. Beyond the lines of Chatalja, some fifty miles from this City, the capital of Turkey, young nations, Bulgars and Serbs, are waiting, watching, intent on hurling the Turk from Europe, as the Turk drove forth the Greeks in their day. CHAPTER XI The Eastern Empire--The marriage of Orkhan and Theodora--Solyman crosses the Hellespont--The death of Solyman--Amurath I conquers Adrianople--A crusade against Amurath--Amurath conquers Nish--Revolt of the Slavs--Western Europe at this period--Successes of the Slavs--The battle of Kossova--Sultan Bajazet--Another crusade against Turkey--Bajazet defeats the crusaders--The ascendancy of Tamerlane--Bajazet is defeated by Tamerlane--Death of Bajazet and Tamerlane--Civil war--Musa marches against Servia--Mohammed I succeeds Musa--Amurath II--Pretender Mustapha--Attack on Constantinople--Hunyadi Janos--Peace of Szeggedin--The death of Ala-ed-din--Battle of Varna--Mohammed, son of Amurath--Scanderbeg--Mohammed II--Conquest of Constantinople. That Turkish rule has lasted as long as it has, has not died down like the power of other Asiatic races who swept over Europe, held parts of it for a while, and were then forced out again, is probably due to the fact that earlier Ottoman Sultans took no step in advance before consolidating their power behind them. They allowed time for each conquered province, each subject race to blend into the general nationality of their Empire by the assimilation of military and civil institutions. Asia Minor became a solid Empire under Turkish rule, and allowed the Sultan to look further afield for fresh conquests. He was naturally drawn towards the West, where lay the heart of the Empire out of which successive sons of Othman had carved their possessions. Again, the troubled state of the Greek Empire, frequently rent by civil war, offered the strong young Turk rulers an opportunity for interfering much in the same way that Great Powers of to-day concern themselves with the doings of less well-ordered states. The Eastern Empire was indeed in a parlous state by the time Orkhan had brought his country from a chaos of conquered provinces to a heterogeneous Empire, and invited interference. The Emperor John V (Cantacuzene) realized the power of the Turks, and sought to strengthen his position by an alliance with the Sultan, so a marriage was arranged and celebrated with great pomp and splendour between Orkhan, a widower of some sixty years, and the Emperor's young daughter Theodora. This should have led to a good understanding between the monarchs, but it did not, as the East was pressing relentlessly on the enfeebled West, and temporary expedients could not avert the coming catastrophe. All about Constantinople were foreign settlements; Venetians and Genoese fought for mastery in the narrow waters of the Bosphorus, and both united to wring concessions out of the Eastern Empire. The rivalry of these two Republics gave Orkhan a reason for interfering, and he decided to ally himself with the Genoese, for he hated the Venetians, who had insulted him by declining to receive his envoys to the Doges. But the Venetians were allied to Emperor John Cantacuzene, in his struggles against another son-in-law, John Palæologus. Solyman, son of Orkhan, crossed the Hellespont by night with a handful of followers and took Koiridocastron, or "Hog's Castle." No attempt was made to regain this castle from the Turk, as the Emperor was fully occupied with the armies of his rebel son-in-law, Palæologus, and with the Genoese fleet. The Greek Emperor, finding himself in such sore straits, without making any attempt to dislodge Solyman from the castle, without even a remonstrance, implored Orkhan to send him assistance. This Orkhan readily granted; he reinforced Solyman's small party with an army of ten thousand men. This force defeated Palæologus and his Slavonic army, but did not return to Asia; the Turk had landed in Europe, and showed a determination to stay. Cantacuzene offered Solyman ten thousand ducats to evacuate the "Hog's Castle," and the Sultan's son agreed, but before the sum had been paid an earthquake visited Thrace and threw down the walls of its strongholds. The Greeks saw in this a sign of Heaven's ill-will, the Turks believed it to be a manifestation of the will of Allah in their favour and a plain command to proceed with the conquests in Europe. So while the Greeks were still trembling two of Solyman's captains, Adjé Bey and Ghasi Fasil, occupied Gallipoli, marched in over its defences shattered by the earthquake. Soon after these events Solyman, when engaged in his favourite sport of falconry, was thrown from his horse and killed. He was buried on the spot where he had landed with his followers, and near him are buried his two captains, to whose efforts the Turks owe their first firm foothold in Europe, when Gallipoli, the key of the Dardanelles, the southern passage to Constantinople, fell into their hands. From the reign of Orkhan dates the first decisive influence of Turkey over Eastern Europe. Orkhan and his brother, Ala-ed-din, forged the weapons which were to bring the Eastern Empire to its fall and set up another Empire in its place, an Empire which spread far afield over Europe, and trod Western civilization under foot from the Black Sea to the walls of Vienna. To-day that Empire's European possessions have dwindled down to a small strip of land beyond the City's old walls and the lines of Chatalja. Another strong ruler followed Orkhan, Amurath I, his youngest son, in 1359. There were troubles in Asia to keep the new Sultan engaged, the Prince of Carmania stirred up several Turkish Emirs to rise against the House of Othman. This matter settled, Amurath bent his mind to further conquests in Europe, and by 1361 he had captured the great city Adrianople and made it his capital. Adrianople, the City of Hadrian, scene of many historic events. Here Emperor Valens met the Goths as they were streaming down the Valley of the Maritza, and tried to stem the tide of barbarian invasion; but the Goths broke the trained legions of Rome, who for years after could not be brought to face that foe again, and Valens, the Emperor, was numbered among the slain. A few centuries later Bulgarians and Greeks met here, and again an Emperor fell; whereas the Goths contented themselves with slaying Valens in battle, the conquering Bulgarians made a drinking-vessel of the skull of Nicephorus I, vanquished at Adrianople. To-day Bulgarians are investing a Turkish force in Adrianople, the first European capital of the Sultans, where Amurath I lies buried. From here Amurath prepared the way for the conquest of Constantinople; from here he set out on those expeditions which brought one Christian nation after another under the Turkish yoke. Here, too, the Turks first met their present enemy, the Slav. Hitherto their opponents had been only the enfeebled Greeks, and these had few, if any, friends in Europe. As schismatics, the Pope was not concerned with their fate, but when Amurath's campaigns extended westward, and threatened Catholic countries, Pope Urban V became alarmed, and called upon Western Europe for a new crusade. The King of Hungary, the Princes of Servia, Bosnia, Wallachia, formed a league intended to drive the Osmanli out of Europe; they collected their armed forces and marched towards the East, crossing the Maritza about two days' march from Constantinople. There was no force of equal strength available to Lalashahin, then in command of the Ottoman forces in Europe, for the allied Princes disposed of some twenty thousand men, and the Turkish army was scattered about in various garrisons. The Christians, assured of victory, neglected all military precautions, were caught unprepared during a night of revelry, "as wild beasts in their lair. They were driven before us as flames before the wind, till, plunging into the Maritza they perished in its waters," says Seadeddin, the Oriental historian. This was the first encounter between Turks and Slavs; there were many others, mostly with the same result, and resulting in centuries of suffering for the vanquished. But the times have changed; the Slav, no longer careless, undisciplined, ill-prepared, has met the Turk again by the banks of the Maritza, and before the West--prepared, purposeful, and strong--the East has failed as it always has done, as it ever will do. It was Amurath I who thus began to place the yoke on the Slav nations of Eastern Europe; his troops captured Nissa (Nish), the strong city of the Servians, and forced their Prince to sue for peace; it was granted on the condition that he supplied a tribute of a thousand pounds of silver and a thousand horse-soldiers every year. Sisvan, King of the Bulgarians, had also taken part in the crusade of Western Christianity against Amurath, and he was compelled to beg for mercy, which was shown him at the price of his daughter's marriage to the conqueror. But the Slavs, Servians, Bulgarians, and Bosniaks were not disposed to give in calmly to the methods of colonization adopted by Turkey. Most of Thrace was added to the European possessions, and all Roumelia, and there seemed to be no limit to the Osmanli's greed of territory. The natives of conquered districts were removed to other parts of Turkey, and Turks and Arabs sent to colonize in their stead. All this urged the princes of the neighbouring Slav races to another mighty effort against the Asiatic invader. Servia, remembering her past greatness, was chief of the movement, which was joined by an Albanian people, the Skipetars, Wallachians and Magyars from Hungary, Poles from the northern Slav kingdom, all combined with the southern Slavs in this enterprise. But the old crusading enthusiasm was dead, and Western Europe, which had sent heroes such as Godfrey of Bouillon, Richard Coeur de Lion, Frederick Barbarossa, looked on with apathy at the encroachments of the Turk and the spread of Islam. Richard II, weak and worthless, was King of England, the imbecile Charles VI reigned over France, and the Germanic Empire was torn by civil wars, raging between robber knights and the free towns of the Hansa, under the dissolute Emperor Wenzel. The chivalry of Spain was still fully occupied with its own crusade against the Moors, and finally there were divisions in the Papacy itself between Clement VII and Urban VI. So no help could come to the Slav Crusaders from the West. Still the league against Amurath was powerful, and he realized that its subjection would tax all his energy and resources. He made all necessary arrangements for the good government of Asia during his absence in the field, then crossed the Hellespont to meet the enemy. In the meantime the Bulgarians and Serbs had become over-confident, owing to a successful battle in Bosnia; an Ottoman army moving through that country was attacked by the Allies with great vigour, and fifteen out of twenty thousand Turks killed. Inactivity on the part of the Christians marked the next few months, while Amurath was pouring troops into Bulgaria, and completing the conquest of that important member of the league. Ali Pasha, Amurath's general, marched with an army of thirty thousand men against Sisvan, over the passes of the Nadir Derbend, and forced Shumla to surrender; Tirnova and Pravadi fell, and the Bulgarian King fled to Nicopolis. Here Ali Pasha besieged him, and Sisvan begged for peace. The terms of peace eventually agreed to by the conquering Turk put an end to Bulgaria's existence as a political entity; it became a province of the Ottoman Empire. Lazar, King of the Servians, the head of the Powers leagued against Amurath, was alarmed at the rapid strides made by the Osmanli forces, and prepared for a resolute struggle. Amurath accepted the formal challenge sent him by the Servian King, and marched westward towards the frontiers of Servia and Bosnia; on the plain of Kossova he met the Allies. After a night spent in a council of war in both camps, the antagonists met on the plain of Kossova, the "Amselfeld," as the Germans call it. To northward of the small stream Shinitza, which traverses the plain, the chivalry of Servia, Bosnia, and Albania, their auxiliaries from Poland, Hungary, and Wallachia, were drawn up in battle array on 27th August, 1389. But the crusaders were unable to stand before the fierce onslaught of the Osmanli, despite their reckless bravery. Slav chivalry went under in a sea of blood, though Milosh Kabilovitch had inflicted a fatal wound on the conqueror. The battle of the "Amselfeld" settled the fate of the southern Slavs for many centuries. Amurath II had died from the wound inflicted by Milosh Kabilovitch, and his son Bajazet reigned in his stead. He pursued the war against Servia energetically, and made that country a vassal state of the Ottomans. King Stephen Lazarevitch, successor to King Lazar, gave the Sultan his sister to wife, and agreed to pay as tribute a certain portion of the produce of the silver mines in his dominions. Thus Bajazet broke down Servia's resistance, and then turned against the other states which had taken part in the latest crusade. Myrtché, Prince of Wallachia, submitted, and his country became a vassal state of Turkey; Sigismund, King of Hungary, invaded Bulgaria, but after some slight successes, was defeated by a superior Turkish army in 1372, and forced to retreat. While returning to his country from this campaign King Sigismund saw fair Elizabeth Morsiney, and loved her. Their son, the great Hunyadi Janos, avenged King Sigismund in his victorious campaigns against the Turks. Once again Western chivalry attempted to check the rising tide of Islam. Sigismund, King of Hungary, felt the danger of that power pressing on his frontiers, and succeeded in moving the sympathies of other members of the Catholic Church. So when Pope Boniface IX, in 1394, proclaimed a crusade against the Osmanli, many of the martial youth of France and Burgundy, set free by the end of the one hundred years' war with England, joined in this new crusade. Count de la Manche, three cousins of the King of France, James of Bourbon, Henri and Philippe de Bar, acted as commanders under Count de Nevers; besides these were other Frankish nobles, Philippe of Artois, Comte d'Eu, and Constable of France, Lord de Courcy, Guy de la Tremouille, Jean de Vienne, Admiral of France, St. Pol. Montmorel, and Reginald de Roze, marched from France, and on their way through Germany were joined by Frederic, Count of Hohenzollern, Grand Commander of the Teutonic Order, and Grand Master Philibert de Naillac, who came from Rhodes with a strong body of Knights of St. John of Jerusalem. There came also Bavarian knights, under the Elector Palatine, and the Count of Mumpelsgarde; Styria sent its contingent under Count de Cilly. In all, some ten to twelve thousand of the flower of Western chivalry came down the Danube, full of high pride, and boasting that "if the sky should fall, they would uphold it on the point of their spears." Myrtché, Prince of Wallachia, though vassal and tributary to the Sultan, had been induced to tempt the fortunes of war once more, and joined the hosts of the Crusaders. Bajazet was away in Asia, but his general, Yoglan Bey, defended Nicopolis stoutly against the Crusaders, who closely invested it, and so gained time for his master. Swiftly and silently came Bajazet, with his well-trained, well-disciplined army, and the Christian knights at table on the 24th September, 1396, were suddenly informed that a large Turkish army was bearing down upon them. The Franks flew to arms and charged recklessly into battle; their impetuosity and want of discipline proved their undoing, and by evening Bajazet had vanquished this last crusade against the rising fortunes of Islam. King Sigismund escaped; most of the prisoners taken by the Turks were massacred, and those who were spared lived weary months in captivity at Broussa until ransomed in 1397. Thus was the West defeated in its attempt at rescuing Eastern Christians, and Bajazet's victorious armies moved on to new conquests; they overran and devastated Styria and southern Hungary, marched through the pass of Thermopylæ, where there was no Leonidas and his devoted band to bid them halt, and under their conquering Sultan, Locris, Phocis, and Boeotia fell to the sword of Othman, till finally the whole Peloponese was a Turkish province. Constantinople, the only remaining portion of the Greek Emperor, had escaped so far, but now its fate seemed about to be sealed when another man, as great, perhaps, as Bajazet himself, came out of Asia--Tamerlane and his Mongolian hordes. Timour the Tartar, Timourlenk, Tamerlane, as he is variously called, was born near Samarkand in the earlier part of the fourteenth century, and spent the first half of his life in struggling for ascendancy over the petty chiefs of rival tribes until, at the age of thirty-five, he had fought his way to undisputed pre-eminence, and was proclaimed Khan of Zagatai by the warriors of his race. He made Samarkand his capital, and as he proposed to conquer the whole habitable earth from there, this ambition was sure to bring him into conflict with the Osmanli on the western confines of his territory. Tamerlane had been insulted by the Sultan of Egypt, so he marched from Sivas, which he had taken from the Turks in Bajazet's absence, towards Syria, which experienced for two years the terror and cruelty of his arms. An interchange of letters and embassies between Bajazet and Tamerlane, on the subject of the latter's occasional incursions into Turkish territory, served only to aggravate the tension between the two monarchs, till hostilities became the only way out of an impossible situation. Tamerlane's forces outnumbered the hundred and twenty thousand men with which Bajazet marched against the Tartar at Sivas, but Bajazet was impatient of the warnings of his best general, who had observed a bad spirit in the army amongst the soldiers of Tartar race whom Tamerlane had corrupted, and decided to bring matters to a definite conclusion. He did, but to his own undoing, for Tamerlane out-manoeuvred him at Angora, where the opposing forces met on July 20th, 1402. The Mongol army is said to have numbered eight hundred thousand, and Bajazet could not have had more than one hundred thousand to put into the field, for many had died by the way. Moreover, Tamerlane's army was in high spirits, and well found in every way, whereas Bajazet's troops were discontented, and large numbers of Tartars deserted from him to swell the ranks of the Mongol army, and only the Ottoman centre, where stood the Janissaries and the Servians, made any effective resistance to the fierce charges of the Tartar cavalry. At nightfall, when all was lost, Bajazet attempted to escape from the field, but his horse stumbled and fell with him, and so delivered him into the hands of his enemy. After an ineffectual attempt to escape, Bajazet, who had hitherto been kindly treated, was placed in fetters every night, and he died of a broken heart only eight months after the battle of Angora. Prince Musa was allowed to take the body of his father, Bajazet, to Broussa for burial, by Tamerlane who did not survive his fallen rival long. Tamerlane died two years later, at Otrar, while on the march to China, at the age of seventy-one, thirty-six years of which he had reigned and conquered, and shed more blood, caused more misery, than any other human before or since. Bajazet's misguided efforts against Tamerlane brought the Ottoman Empire, which had been gaining strength so steadily, to the verge of ruin, and calamity after calamity fell upon the House of Othman after the disaster of Angora. Civil war broke out as each son of Bajazet strove for the throne; Solyman fought against his brother Musa, and though at first successful, spoilt the results by debauchery and the cruelty with which he treated his troops, so they deserted to Musa, and Solyman was killed while endeavouring to escape to Constantinople. Musa followed in his father's footsteps, and seems to have inherited his energy and ferocity. He thought fit to consider that the Servian Prince, vassal of the Ottoman Empire, had assisted Solyman against him, so he carried war in Servia, war with all the barbarity a Turkish Sultan and Turkish troops were capable of, and then turned towards Constantinople, for the Emperor Manuel Palæologus had been the ally of Solyman. Musa laid siege to the City, and Manuel called to Mohammed, the youngest and ablest son of Bajazet, for assistance, and so we find Ottoman troops defending the Castle of Cæsar against their own brothers. The war between the two brothers raged with varying success till the troops of Musa, whose conduct towards them was little better than that of Solyman, ranged themselves against him at the decisive moment when the two brothers confronted each other on the field of battle. Musa was wounded in a fray with Hassan, the Aga of his Janissaries, and seeing things going against him, fled, and was found dead in a swamp near the field of battle. The only other son of Bajazet, Issa, had disappeared during the war between Solyman and Mohammed in Asia, so the latter succeeded to the throne of Turkey, and was girt with the sword of Othman. In Mohammed I, who reigned from 1413-1421, the House of Othman put forth one of the best sovereigns of that race. He did not win such distinction in the field as did some of his predecessors and successors; his conquests were over the affections of men, for he was just and merciful. His people called him Pehlevan, Champion, for he was brave, and of great personal strength and activity; others called him Tshelebi, which suggests that he had all those attributes that make a gentleman; true to his friends, a terror to his enemies the rebellious Turcomans, his country's historian calls him, "The Noah who preserved the Ark of the Empire, when menaced by the deluge of Tartar invasion." Those were troubled times, but they seem peaceful compared to the days of Mohammed I's predecessors, and by the time death overtook Mohammed I in the eighth year of his reign, rebellions had been suppressed, order restored, and honourable peace settled for a while in Ottoman dominions. But it was broken soon after Amurath II, son of Mohammed I, had been girt with the sword of Othman at Broussa; a claimant to the throne, alleged son of Bajazet, had long been held captive by the Emperor of Byzant, who now thought fit to set up this pretender Mustapha against young Amurath. But the new Sultan, though only eighteen years of age, showed promise of the military and political abilities of the great sons of Othman from whom he was descended, and when he and Mustapha met in battle the latter was out-manoeuvred and forced to flee to Gallipoli, where he sought refuge in the strong fortress. Aided by Genoese, Amurath II broke down the defences of Gallipoli, captured Mustapha, and had him put to death. Then Amurath II turned towards Constantinople to punish the Emperor for his unprovoked hostility to him. Constantinople was invested, and Amurath's troops surged in successive waves against the Walls of Theodosius. The fight was fiercest near the Gate of St. Romanus, where a number of dervishes, headed by a renowned saint, Seid Bakhari, formed the vanguard of a forlorn hope in a desperate attack on 25th August, 1422. Among the inducements which urged these five hundred dervishes to dash out their souls against the City walls was one calculated to appeal to a Mohammedan saint, marking the ethical difference between him and the Christian variant; the many nuns in the convents of Constantinople were assigned to these pious souls as their share of the spoil. No doubt it was hoped that the company of those ladies would brighten up the monastic seclusion of the dervishes in times of peace if ever they came as intervals in the popular diversion--war. The garrison of Constantinople was making a stout defence, and might conceivably have held out by itself, but supernatural intervention was evidently called for, if only for the sake of the ladies, and the bright apparition of a virgin, robed in violet of dazzling lustre, further encouraged the besieged, while the besiegers, hearing of this interference with their business, decided to raise the siege, and try again some other day. Historians, who are always ready to discount the value of supernatural apparitions which sparkle in the sky just in the nick of time, maintain that Amurath II was drawn from the siege of Constantinople by trouble in Asia. He had a brother, another Mustapha, whom the Greek Emperor had bribed to raise rebellion in Asia Minor. The extraordinary rapidity of Amurath's movements frustrated all young Mustapha's plans; he fled, was caught by some of the Sultan's officers, and hanged on the nearest tree, which act, no doubt, saved the Sultan a good deal of trouble. Amurath returned to Europe and resumed hostilities with the Greek Emperor, not by besieging Constantinople again, but by annexing other towns here and there. He took several towns on the Black Sea coast which had held to Byzant till then, captured Thessalonica from the Venetians, and made matters easier for the campaign he was obliged to undertake against turbulent neighbours and insubordinate vassals on the Western marches of the Ottoman Empire in Europe. Hungary, still smarting under the defeat of their King at Nicopolis, was roused to action by the great Hunyadi; Bosniaks and Albanians feared for their independence, and Wallachia longed to be free; Servia, too, was troublesome, under a fiery leader Vuk Brankoviç, and after much vacillation, these enemies of the Osmanli contrived to drop their jealousies for a while, and to combine against the Eastern invader. The fortunes of war went against Amurath, and his renowned opponent, Hunyadi Janos, beat his armies at Belgrade and Hermanstadt, and again at Vasag. The Allies pushed on triumphantly through Servia and Bulgaria of to-day, up to the Balkan range, where they wrested two mountain-passes, strongly defended, from the fiercely resisting Turks. Strange to say, Hunyadi did not advance on Adrianople, but returned to Pesth after a final victory at the foot of Mount Kunobitza. During most of this time Amurath had been away in Asia; he now hurried back to retrieve the fallen fortunes of his Empire in Europe, but finding that impossible, decided to consolidate what was left to him, and entered into peace negotiations with his adversaries, which ended in the Treaty of Szeggedin, in 1444; hereby George Brankoviç, son of Vuk, became independent ruler of Servia, and Wallachia was lost to Hungary. Misfortune dogged Amurath; his eldest son Ala-ed-din died, he who had assisted in command of the Ottoman forces in Asia, his father's right hand, and left the Sultan inconsolable, borne down by the weight of accumulating affliction. There was a second son, Mohammed, still young, and to him Amurath entrusted the throne and its heavy burdens, while he retired into dignified seclusion at Magnesia. But Mohammed was too young for the enormous responsibilities of his post, and Amurath had to revisit the scenes of his former activity from time to time. The successes of the Christians, and the retirement to Asia of Amurath, roused the Greek Emperor to fresh intrigues against his Asiatic adversary; he and the Pope induced the King of Hungary to break the oath made at the Peace of Szeggedin, Cardinal Julian salved that monarch's conscience, and so King Ladislaus started off on another crusade against the Turk. Amurath hurried back from Asia, crossed the Hellespont with the aid of the Genoese, and met his adversaries near Varna in November, 1444. The battle raged with varying success all day, until King Ladislaus, whose horse fell with him, was captured and slain on the spot. His head impaled on a spear threw his troops into a panic; many of them perished by the sword, among them Cardinal Julian, Stephan Bathory, and many other nobles. This victory of the sword of Othman at Varna settled the fate of those vassal Slavs who had risen against the Sultan; Servia was thoroughly reconquered, Bosnia's royal family was exterminated, and their country added to the Ottoman dominions. Once again Amurath retired to the pleasant seclusion he had sought at Magnesia; some describe it as monastic in character, but that description sounds unlikely; at least the monasticism of the Sultan and that of Christian monks can have had little in common, the former probably allowing pleasures which a Christian monk would be bound to regard with pious horror. Alas, and I am sorry for Amurath, because he had worked hard and deserved a good time, his son Mohammed proved unfit to hold the victorious Turkish soldiery, so he was given a change at Magnesia, while his father re-established order in the army. Amurath reigned for another six years after these happenings--years which he spent usefully, in gathering in odd outlying bits of territory into the Ottoman fold. The Peleponese peninsula was made a vassal state, and Hunyadi Janos severely beaten at Kossova. The only trouble which Amurath was unable to settle was caused by the Albanian, Scanderbeg, who defied the Sultan from his mountain fastnesses, and reigned over his wild country and fierce subjects for many years after Amurath, who had himself instructed Scanderbeg in the art of war, had been laid to rest at Broussa. His son Mohammed lost no time in ascending the throne, removing a slight obstacle, or what might have become one, in the person of Amurath's infant son by a Servian Princess. The babe was drowned in a bath at the moment when his mother was offering her congratulations to the new Sultan. Mohammed's subjects failed to see the humorous side of this act of statecraft, and made trouble, so the Sultan put all the blame on the officer who had carried out the order, and had him put to death for treason. Mohammed had to confess to his own share in the deed when, many years later, he included fratricide among the permissible expedients of statesmanship. Mohammed II lives in history as "The Conqueror," and he seems to have had all the qualities as well as the good fortune which help mortals to that high title; he had some other qualities which were, if not necessary to success, at least picturesque, and in keeping with the morals and ideals of the time he lived in, and of the peoples with whom he had to deal. He was strong of purpose and far-sighted, ingenious and of tireless energy, and these qualities brought him victory over his enemies in the field and success in the guidance of his people's life through the dark passages of diplomacy. These qualities shone out into the foreground; in the background were cruelty, perfidy, and a sensuality which revolted even the loose-living warriors of his day. The West called to Mohammed II; there was yet one more city awaiting conquest by a son of Othman ere the Eastern Empire should pass out of history and the Turk should rule large European provinces from the seat of Constantine. Another, Constantine XI, and last of that long line of Byzantine Emperors, had come to the throne some three years before Mohammed was girt with the sword of Othman. This Constantine was wise, just, and merciful, and has gone down to history among the heroes of the world. But all the noblest qualities united in the person of its Emperor were unable to stem the tide rising up to the walls of Constantinople, were inadequate when opposed to relentless force from without, and supineness, sloth, cowardice, within the City walls. The fate of Constantinople drew nearer, till in May, 1453, the hour had struck, and Mohammed II rode as conqueror over heaps of slain, among whom was the lost Emperor, through the breach in the wall made by his huge cannon and the fiery assaults of the Janissaries, to the deserted palaces of Imperial Byzant. Thus fell Constantinople, the City of many sieges, into the hands of an Asiatic nation which from here ruled wide tracts of Europe, raiding right up to the gates of Vienna, the Kaiserstadt of the Holy Roman Empire, "Deutscher Nation." For nearly five centuries an unbroken line of sons of Othman have sat in the seat of Cæsar, have conquered from here, and from here have watched the decay of their power in Europe. One by one young races, reborn after years of slavery, rose and asserted their rights, gained first autonomy, then independence, from a master who seemed but a stranger and a sojourner in the lands of Roum. Now, as I write, those young nations have closed in on every side, and Ottoman possessions in Europe are hardly greater in extent than were those of decadent Byzant when Mohammed II's artillery thundered outside the walls, brought down those stout defences, and with them an old civilization, in a mass of crumbling ruins. CHAPTER XII Islam--And Christianity--Turks and the law of the Prophet--Their relations to the Sultan--Bajazet II and his army--Slavs go over to Islam--The rebellion of Djem--Matthias Corvinus--The growth of Western culture--Jews expelled from Spain--Kemal-Reis and Turkish sea-power--Bajazet and his sons--The revolt of Selim--Selim kills his brothers--Selim defeats Shah Ismail--Selim and his Grand Vizier--Selim defeats the Mamelukes--The death of Selim--Solyman the Great--Contemporary history--The conquest of Rhodes--The invasion of Hungary--Buda-Pesth surrenders--The first siege of Vienna--Sea victories of Barbarossa--Solyman and Roxalana--Solyman's death. Religion affects the private life of the Turk as also the life of the body politic more than is the case among the followers of other creeds, and Islam is singularly adapted to the sons of Othman, or rather has made them what they are. Mohammed assumed both spiritual and temporal power in the name of a god, who thrones high above the humble faithful, who is so far concerned in each believer that he arranges every detail of his life long before the poor mortal enters upon it. There is no mercy, no departure from the course marked out, no hope of propitiating a stern deity, aloof and vengeful, by prayer and intercession; Islam--obedience, submission. Allah is not often moved by loving-kindness, but anger may rouse him to punish by the hand of his "shadow on earth," the Caliph-Sultan. He is particularly easily incensed against non-believers, and through his Prophet has promised all happiness after death to those to combat unbelief, and by war and rapine, murder and outrage, proclaim the fact that "La ilaha illa 'Uah!" [Illustration: The Gate of Adrianople Through this gate, Edirné Kapoo, as the Turks call it, the Sultan's army marched out to war; through it his soldiery, defeated, sick, wounded, returned in small parties from the battlefields.] It is not surprising to find that, whatever its theory, in practice Islam discouraged any serious regard for human life, whether a man's own or the life of his neighbour. It also strengthened the ruler's hands, for he was the voice of Allah on earth, and therefore privileged to take life without trial, inquiry, or any formality. Of this privilege Sultans have availed themselves freely, though it was not _bien vue_ to kill more than a thousand in a day. For political reasons Mohammedan subjects were less exposed to violence, whereas Christians became more and more subject to ill-treatment as Christianity gained strength and helped to build up Empires strong enough to check the flowing tide of Islam. Islam acted as an intellectual stimulus on its first adherents, the poetic-minded Arabs, though possibly it did not assume its present rigidity when they were a ruling power in Asia, Africa, and Southern Europe. I think it likely that the Arabs did not allow the strict letter of the law to cramp their intellectual development, but their converts, the Turks, a race devoid of the power of imagination, proved incapable of interpreting the "Book" in a liberal spirit even if it were possible, for the Koran, with all its contradictions, contains hard-and-fast dogma, definite rules to regulate conduct, and threatens those who depart from its teachings by but a hand's-breadth with all the pains of Eternal Damnation. Gautama, the Prince, retired into seclusion, and by the beauty of a soul trained to deep meditation became Buddha; Christ came to earth and suffered all indignities and pains at the hands of men, rather than assert the power of His Godhead by offering political opposition to those who spurned His teachings: "His kingdom is not of this world." After the awful day on Calvary none of the temporal powers of the day attached any further importance to His sayings, nor to the small band of disciples who went out into the outer darkness of the world carrying with them the first flickerings of a light which should illumine the earth and draw from mortals the best that is in them. Buddha lived alone in deep seclusion, renouncing all earthly vanities, and his few disciples went abroad poor and homeless searching for the souls of men. Mohammed drew men to him by promises of glory and honour on this earth, ease and luxury in the Beyond. Christianity bids you forgive your enemies; Mohammed led his followers to battle against the unbelievers, conquered their cities, and called those places holy when he had fixed the strongholds of his militant faith. Mohammed died in the possession of great power, spiritual and temporal, enjoining his descendants to maintain and increase it by the sword. The realm thus founded was inherited by the Caliphs, but they in time became enfeebled and hard pressed by their enemies, till first the temporal then spiritual power went to a race of rulers incapable and disinclined to widen the intellectual horizon of their subjects, the House of Othman. So the sovereign's power was absolute, in his hands were life and death, all property but that applied to pious purposes came from him and by him could be retaken. The strict adherence to religious observances had its beneficial effects, for the laws that regulate the conduct, that prescribe for each hour of the day, allowed of no expansion and could not openly be disregarded, therefore the life of the people, at least to outward appearance, was clean and decorous. Mollahs and imams never gained the ascendancy over the minds of men which Christian priests and holy men of Buddhism have from time to time acquired; they played an unimportant part, acting rather as precentors at the worship of Allah in the mosques, though as preachers they could incite the fierce passions of a people untrained to independent thought. From time to time the Sultan would think fit to consult the mufti, the head priest, as to the advisability of some political measure, and that official generally found it convenient to agree, as his appointment was in the sovereign's gift and could be recalled by him. Under the law, administered by the Sultan, the Turks increased in numbers, extended their possession, carved a large Empire out of the ruins of former civilizations, and left unsought those Elysian fields wherein the intellect of a nation gains those victories that make for stability, the fields of progress, scientific, literary, artistic. Under the law they built up their body politic, each member sincerely, blindly devoted to the dynasty of Othman, however many corpses of its scions might pave a Sultan's upward path to power. They swept over Asia Minor carrying their few belongings with them, nomads ever, expressing even in their poor attempt at imagery no other spirit than that of the houseless wanderer: The edifice of state is but a tent, its supporting poles the viziers, judges, treasurers, and secretaries of state. Its entrance, the Sublime Porte, is likened to curtained opening, and curtains rather than doors still screen the latticed chambers of many a present-day Turkish harem. The provinces they conquered were distributed among the fighting men as military fiefs and called Sanjaks, banners, remaining purely military organizations until more stable conditions led to the raising of a standing army; and civil officials always looked to their sovereign for guidance in the smallest matters as they had looked to him for leadership in the field. Thus equipped the sons of Othman set out for conquest, and in one respect at least the records of those early days show signs of great capacity, though always the output of one active mind, not resulting from the reasoned growth of a collective national intelligence. Mohammed the Conqueror had established the Ottoman Empire in Europe by means of a well-trained, Koran-disciplined army, his successor Bajazet II increased and strengthened it. Great attention was paid to all matters of artillery and military engineering, in which the Turks of those days outshone all other nations, and which made the hastily levied undisciplined armies of the West, the bands of hired condottieri, or enthusiastic swarms of Christian knights, go under before the sword of Othman. The conquered provinces provided recruits for the corps of Janissaries. In those days, too, the Turkish armies were more mobile and better found than even that which Charles VII of France raised in 1445, the first standing army of the West; supplies were well organized and transport effected by beasts of burden, not by carts which depend upon good roads. So Bajazet inherited a great Empire, won by the sword of a people in arms and governed by warriors devoted to his House, and over whom the Sultan had complete control; they could not rise above their fellows, for according to the law all Moslems are equal under the Caliph, and no ruling caste rose to defy the power of the sovereign or force him to grant concessions. Fresh blood was added to this homogeneous body politic by the voluntary desertion of Christians from the conquered provinces to Islam: Croats, Albanians, Bosniaks, Russians, even Scotsmen, adventurers mostly, and among the fiercest followers of the Prophet. Many of these rose to high office. The reign of Bajazet II began with civil war, a not unusual occurrence, for Prince Djem, his brother, laid claim to the throne. But Bajazet vanquished his brother's army, and Djem consoled himself by a visit to Mecca and Medina, which makes for holiness and raises a Moslem in the estimation of his fellows. Building on this Djem made further attempts to displace Bajazet, and went to the Knights of Rhodes to enlist their sympathies. These nobles kept the Prince a prisoner and made him a source of income from the Sultan by threatening to set him at large again. Djem finally escaped from Rhodes and sought help elsewhere, in Western Europe, but met with little encouragement, and was finally treacherously murdered by a servant of the Pope, bribed by Bajazet. In the meantime Bajazet felt the need for expansion--there were still worlds to conquer and he was minded to acquire a few. His efforts on land were not particularly successful, he had at least one strong man against him, Matthias Corvinus, who had restored order in Hungary and was thus enabled to check the encroachments of Islam. There were other Powers of some importance in Europe at the time: the Medici, under whom the glories of Italian art, inspired by ancient Byzant, were preparing the way for enfranchised thought; and in Germany Meister Gutenberg had set up his printing-press. All glory to that great man whose gentle craft made the Reformation possible. "Buchstaben," beech staves, for the selfish beech tree, which allows no growth under its spreading branches, found the wood out of which were cut those first strong Gothic letters. Laboriously pieced together those staves grew into sentences, and in time the first Bible, printed and bound in solid calf-skin, was given to the world. Luther perused it, studied it, absorbed it, and with it filled his soul till his voice arose above the jealousies of Papal Medicis and rang out over all the earth, is ringing still wherever the free-born praise their Creator and glorify His works. Even here it resounds, and strongly, since Christian men and women are aiding the sick and wounded of an alien race, a hostile creed, and are bringing them back from those dark depths where they were cast by their own kin, by those whose lives are overshadowed by rigid Islam. Ferdinand the Catholic had married Isabella of Castile, and thus brought the Kingdoms of Spain under one sceptre. They expelled the Jews from Spain to the "greater glory of God"; the descendants of those Jews now inhabit Saloniki and still speak Spanish, though they write it in Hebrew characters. John II of Portugal impoverished his country by the same method at the same time, though he derived some temporary advantage by taxing the exiled children of Israel heavily while they passed through his country on their way to more congenial surroundings. Macchiavelli was born in that era, and was composing his work on the ideal Prince when Bajazet was compassing the death of his brother Djem. Columbus arose to widen the world's horizon, and Vasco da Gama's ships felt their way cautiously round the Cape of Storms to India. But greatest of all these was Leonardo da Vinci, who rescued fragments of the art of old Byzant and breathed into it the life that created all the glories of the Renaissance. Those were brave days, my masters, when the world was young and strong, when art and literature revived, free from the trammels of warped classicism and showed mankind what beauty is and where and how it may be found and duly reverenced. But Bajazet had no ideas beyond conquest. His campaign on land being unattended by the great success his predecessors had prepared him for, he turned to seaward and did his best to cripple rising Western Europe. A slave presented to his father was the instrument to hand, Kemal-Reis, the former name meaning "Perfection," given him by the Sultan because of his great beauty. In constant sea war against Venice and the other states by the Mediterranean Sea, Kemal-Reis laid the foundations of Turkish sea power. Bajazet sought to extend his power to Egypt, but was baffled by the Mamelukes, a body of militant nobility superior in training and "morale" to anything the Othmans could muster. This and other matters cast clouds over the last days of Sultan Bajazet. Dissensions arose among his sons, Korkoud, Achmet, and Selim, Governor of Trebizond, who even threatened his father with war and marched against him to Adrianople. Thereupon Selim was appointed Governor of Semendria, an old Roman settlement in modern Servia, now called Smederovo. But Korkoud and Achmet had revolted in Asia Minor, and by weakening Ottoman rule there invited the Shias, a heretic sect of Islam according to the Sunnis to which the Turks belong, under the Persian Prince, Shah Ismail, to ravage the eastern marches of the Empire. Selim was not content for long, and rose against his father a second time, but was beaten at Adrianople, that fateful city, and was carried from the field to safety by his swift horse Karaboulot, the Black Cloud. He turned to the Khan of the Crimea for assistance, and returning to the attack with a Tartar army forced his way into Constantinople and made Bajazet abdicate in his favour. Turbulent citizens, unruly Janissaries and Spahis gave weight to Selim's demands. So Bajazet retired to Demotika for his remaining days. Violence brought him to the throne, by violence his son displaced him, and Selim reigned in his stead as Sultan, Caliph of the Faithful, the Shadow of God on Earth. Selim I's reign was short, from 1512-1520, but it showed him a man of high ability in politics and war, and even well disposed towards the gentler side of life, for he encouraged literature. He found himself under the painful necessity of having his brother Korkoud strangled, but redeemed this unbrotherliness by weeping over the corpse and by ordering court mourning for three whole days. After that he proceeded to the business of securing his hold on the Empire by marching against his other brother Achmet. Achmet was defeated, taken, and slain, but privileged to burial by the side of Korkoud. Then Selim, a pious Moslem, turned to the matter of his people's spiritual welfare and discovered to his horror that large numbers of them held the heretic tenets of the Shias. This had to be stopped, so a general massacre of these misguided ones, ferreted out by Selim's excellent secret police, was arranged. The Osmanli celebrated their St. Bartholomew's Night by the slaughter of some forty thousand men, women, and children; thirty thousand others were spared, but spent the remainder of their days in perpetual imprisonment. This annoyed Shah Ismail of Persia, and he made ready for war; the Turks were yet readier, and an army of some hundred and forty thousand men marched through Kurdistan upon Tabriz, then capital of Persia. They met with great hardships, which led to discontent among the Janissaries, whom Selim sought to comfort with quotations from the Persian poets. However, the two armies soon came to business, and met in battle in the Valley of Calderan, where the army of Selim beat that of Shah Ismail, some hundred and twenty thousand, of whom eighty thousand were horsemen, though suffering serious losses. Selim had all the captives killed excepting the women and children, among whom was the Shah's favourite wife, who had come out to encourage her husband to the last. Selim levied tribute on Tabriz and pursued his march to Karabagh, but the severity of winter, causing discontent among his troops, obliged him to retrace his steps. This campaign added Diarbekr and Kurdistan to the Ottoman Empire. Trouble then arose in the south, the army of observation in Syria reporting that Egypt was inclined to be dangerous. Selim held a council of war to discuss the matter, and was so pleased with the advice of one Mohammed, a Secretary of State, that he appointed him Grand Vizier on the spot. Mohammed modestly declined, whereupon the Sultan bastinadoed him into submission with his own heavy hand. Ambassadors were sent to Kanson-Ghauri, Sultan of Egypt, but were treated with insults and violence, so Selim marched south and fought a battle at Aleppo, in which the Turks gained their first victory over the Mamelukes, and Sultan Kanson-Ghauri died on his flight to Egypt. Selim then added Aleppo, Damascus, and Jerusalem to his possessions, again defeated the Mamelukes and occupied Cairo. Of the remaining Mamelukes eight hundred submitted on Selim's promise of pardon, and were all beheaded; incidentally the population of Cairo was massacred. Peace ensured by these simple methods, Selim proceeded to the chief mosque of Cairo, offered up praise and thanksgiving to Allah for giving him the victory, and set about the annexation of Egypt, styling himself "Protector of the Holy Cities of Arabia," the title of the Mameluke Sultans. This greatly enhanced Selim's dignity among his people, for up to now the Caliphate had been held by the descendants of the House of Abbas in Egypt. Thus Selim acquired the sacred standard, sword, and mantle of the Prophet. On Selim's return to Constantinople he set about rebuilding his navy, for the presence of the Knights of Rhodes on the seaway to Egypt displeased him, but before he could accomplish the task of subduing them death overtook him at the place near Adrianople where he had formerly met his father in battle. Selim's constant companion, Hasandshan, was just reading to the dying Sultan the verse from the Koran: "The word of the Almighty is salvation," when Selim's fierce career came to its close. Upon this picturesque ruffian, this embodiment of all Turkish virtues and defects, followed one who may rank among the greatest of all the sons of Othman, a man of very different mind, stately Solyman, called the Great. This monarch's reign, from 1520-1566, fell into a great age for Europe, for among his contemporaries were some of those whose names shed lustre on the pages of history. Charles V, that gloomy monarch, ruled over half the known world, his Empire extending over the continent discovered by Columbus, where Cortez added Mexico to fill the imperial coffers, and Pizarro's daring march across the Andes brought untold wealth to the Holy Roman Empire, "Deutscher Nation," though Peru and its mild-mannered people suffered worse horrors than attended even the triumphal progress of the Turkish armies. Discord there was in Western Europe, too, for Luther had nailed his theses to the door of Wittenberg Cathedral in 1517, and thirteen years later the Protestants had made public confession of their faith at Augsburg, to be followed in 1540 by Paul III's sanction of the Jesuits and their order, thus sowing the seeds of that great war which laid Western Europe at the mercy of the encroaching Turks, and made smooth their way to power. In England Henry VIII was King, and bickering with his chivalrous neighbour, Francis I of France. Solyman had early learnt the art of government as Viceroy of Constantinople during his father's campaigns in Persia; then, during the war in Egypt, he governed Adrianople, and succeeded at the age of twenty-six. Solyman inherited his father's forethought and military skill, and, following the traditions of his House, led a fine army westward into Christendom. By the end of 1521 he had captured Belgrade, and made it a strong outpost of advancing Islam. Unlike his father, he was merciful; after long, fierce fighting in the second year of his reign, he forced the Knights of Rhodes to surrender, but promised their gallant commander, de Lisle Adam, that no churches would be desecrated, no children driven into slavery. These promises he kept, and the Knights left the island with all the honours of war, conveying their wives and families away unmolested, while the inhabitants became subjects of the Sultan; moreover, Solyman exacted no tribute for five years. After a few short years of peace, which Solyman used for reforms in the administration, the disturbed state of Europe drew Turkey into her troubles. The Janissaries had already been grumbling about the Sultan's inaction, and had been sharply brought to order. Their heart's desire, war and booty, was not long in coming to them, for Solyman decided to invade Hungary, urged by King Francis of France, who knew that such an event would annoy Charles V and distract that Emperor's attention from the French King's designs on Italy. With one hundred thousand men and three hundred cannon, Solyman set out at the head of his well-found army to meet the forces which Louis, King of Hungary, had gathered together to protect his country from invasion. The result was as might have been expected. Despite great bravery and devotion, because of their faulty organization and discipline, the Hungarian army was defeated at Mohacz in August, 1526; King Louis fell, eight bishops, and a great number of Magyar nobles, and with them some twenty-four thousand men. Buda-Pesth submitted to the Turks, the road to Vienna lay open, and Solyman's victorious army carried fire and sword into the Crown lands of the House of Habsburg. Vienna trembled, but the Turks did not attempt a siege of that city and were content to return the way they came, heavy laden with plunder, carrying away one hundred thousand Christians--men, women, and children--into slavery. After a short absence in Asia Minor, Solyman felt called to Hungary again; civil war had broken out over the succession to the throne, and Solyman thought fit to hear the appeal of Zapolya, a native noble, claimant to the throne, for help against the Archduke Ferdinand of Austria, brother of the Emperor. [Illustration: THE MOSQUE OF SULEIMAN AND THE TOWER OF THE WAR OFFICE Seen from the height where stands the wireless telegraphy station.] A yet greater army gathered together at Constantinople, two hundred and fifty thousand men with three hundred cannon, and, led by Solyman, appeared before Buda-Pesth in September, 1529; the town again surrendered, after a siege of six days, and Zapolya was solemnly installed as king over the people which Arpad had led out of the East, which Stephen the Saint had brought over to Christianity, and whose iron crown now pressed upon the brow of a vassal to the Sultan. Zapolya marched with his followers in the train of Solyman, his master, to Vienna. Like the storms of autumn equinox, the Akindji tore over the fair fields of Lower Austria and surged up against the defences of Vienna, led by Michael Oglou, descendant of Michael of the Peaked Beard, who had fought by the side of the first Othman. The main army followed the swarms of Akindji, and drew a circle of camps around Vienna, which was defended by low walls and contained a garrison of only sixteen thousand men. The capital of the Holy Roman Empire was in danger, and King Ferdinand, in his distress, appealed to his brother, the Emperor, for assistance; but none came, for the German princes were quarrelling about religious matters, while Vienna suffered. The city held out under its brave defender, Count Salm, through days and nights of storm and stress, till Solyman gave up the attempt and withdrew on the day on which Count Salm died of his wounds. Before leaving the outskirts of Vienna the Turks burnt what they could not remove, slaughtered their Christian prisoners or threw them living into the flames, and went away into the East, leaving desolation in their wake. Solyman's pride was deeply wounded by the rebuff before Vienna, and even the conquest of a large part of Armenia, of Mesopotamia, and Bagdad failed to comfort him, so he readily took the excuse of interfering with the West again when Zapolya died, and the question of Hungarian succession rearose. Throughout the war the Turkish arms, though worsted now and then, prevailed over the Western armies, and Austria was forced to enter into a treaty with the Porte and to pay tribute, while nearly all Hungary and Transylvania came under Turkish domination. To all these successes came the victories won by Solyman's admiral, Khairreddin-Barbarossa, in the Mediterranean Sea. He defeated the Spaniards and drove the Arab pirates (himself a former pirate) of the north of Africa back to their hiding-places, sought them out there and made them subjects of the Sultan. He pillaged the coast of the Adriatic and sacked Italian towns, and with inferior numbers defeated the naval forces of the Pope, Venice, and the Emperor off Prevesa in 1538. Solyman went out to meet Khairreddin's successor, Pialé, a Croat by birth, when the latter made his triumphal entry into the Golden Horn, but the Sultan's brow was clouded, for trouble had sought him out. Within the Seraglio walls, in the halls of Solyman the Magnificent, stalked Tragedy, called in by Jealousy. A fair Russian girl had captured the Sultan's heart, Sultana Roxalana, or Khourrem (the Joyous One), as the Turks called her, and her ambitions for Selim, her son, led her to fill her husband's mind with suspicion. Mustapha, his elder son by a Circassian, a handsome youth and highly gifted, Governor of Carmania, was accused of plotting against his father. Mustapha was ordered to enter the Sultan's presence alone, and Solyman, looking on from an inner chamber, saw seven mute executioners carry out his command to strangle his son with the bowstring. Thus the sword of Othman, the mantle of the Prophet, came to the son of Roxalana, to Selim the Sot. Solyman died while conducting the siege of Szigath, on the night before the gallant defender of that place, Zriny, fell in a desperate last sortie. The news of his death was kept from his army till it had returned to the neighbourhood of Belgrade. Here, on the outskirts of a dense forest, when the setting sun threw long shadows out towards the east, the imams announced the Sultan's death, and great wailings of lamentation re-echoed among the giant trees and set the leaves trembling in sympathy with an Empire's grief. Solyman was buried near the mosque he built, round which to-day refugees, sick and wounded soldiers from the battlefields, are gathered together, patient sons of Islam awaiting their fate. CHAPTER XIII The Empire inherited by Selim--Roxalana's influence--The capture of Cyprus--Amurath III and his brothers--Queen Elizabeth's embassy to the Porte--Corruption in the army--The death of Amurath III--Mohammed III--Losses of the Empire--The battle of Cerestes--The Peace of Sitvatorok--The state of Europe--The Janissaries and Othman II--Amurath IV suppresses the military revolt and re-establishes order--Capture of Bagdad--Mustapha the Drunkard--Ibrahim succeeds Amurath--Kara Mustapha executed--Sultana Validé--Mohammed Kiüprilü--Achmet Kiüprilü succeeds his father--Turks defeated at St. Gothardt--The reconquest of Candia--The war in Poland--The Turks before Vienna again--The Turks defeated by Sobieski--The Janissaries--Solyman II--Prince Eugene of Savoy--The state of Western Europe. The Empire which Selim II inherited from his father extended from the Atlas to the Caucasus, from the Carpathians to the Nile, and among his subjects were counted Greeks and Armenians, Bulgars, Serbs, Bosniaks, Montenegrins, Herzegovinians, Vlachs and Albanians, Romanies and the wandering Tsigani, Arabs, Kurds and Chaldeans, Turkomans and Magyars in the conquered provinces of Hungary, Germans in Transylvania, Copts of Egypt, and Jews of Palestine, or exiled from the Iberian peninsula. The corps of Janissaries had been raised to 20,000, the paid standing army numbered 48,000, with 200,000 irregular auxiliaries, and the fleet mustered 300 warships. The Ottoman Army was first in the world, and Christian monarchs of the West acknowledged the supremacy of the Caliph who sat in the seat of Constantine. The reign of Solyman marked the highest rise of Ottoman power; the decline began with Selim, his and Roxalana's son. Whereas the reign of every Sultan preceding Selim had been impressed with the ruler's personality, the only quality to which a Turk is capable of responding, the rule of Selim showed no such strengthening influence. His mother, Roxalana, was all-powerful, but her bloody intrigues led to many dissensions in the harem, and these reacted on the life of the nation. In order to pursue a course of conquest in Asia, Selim called an armistice with Emperor Maximilian, and turned his attention towards Astrachan. Here he came into conflict with the Tsars of Muscovy, who, having freed themselves from Tartar domination, gave wing to their ambition, and even in those early days pretended to the throne of Constantine, for Ivan III had married Sophia, last Princess of the Greek imperial family, and had taken the two-headed eagle of Byzant as his cognizance. The Porte was powerless against Ivan the Terrible, who annexed Astrachan, and induced the Don Cossacks to join him, under their Hetman, Yermak, the man who added Siberia to the possessions of the Tsar. The Sultan did not take the field in person, did not even concern himself with the government of his reign, so Sokoli, his Grand Vizier, guided the ship of state, and led campaigns which were by no means successful, for the Arabs prevented the execution of a plan to pierce a canal joining Mediterranean and Red Sea at Suez. The Turks were more fortunate at sea, where Sala Mustapha roved at large, reducing Cyprus with unheard-of cruelties. A similar spirit informed Russian conquest at this period. About this time Ivan the Cruel took Wittenstein, and had the captive Finns hewn in pieces, their leader roasted alive on a spear. The horrors of the capture of Cyprus roused all the Christian rulers by the Mediterranean Sea to fury; a large fleet was collected by Don Juan of Austria, son of Charles V, and Margarete Blumberg, the frail, fair lady of Ratisbon. Marco Colonna brought a fleet found by the Pope; Spain, Malta, and Savoy sent their galleons, the Venetians joined with one hundred and eight galleys and six galliases, under Admiral Veniero, a naval crusade, as it were. There were great names among these crusaders, the Prince of Parma, Caraccioli, the Marquis of Santa Croce, Andrea Doria, and Cervantes, author of _Don Quixote_. The hostile fleets met off Lepanto and engaged in a furious battle, which resulted in a complete victory for the Christian Allies; thirty thousand Turks were slain, fifteen thousand of their Christian slaves rescued from the galleys, and of the stately Ottoman fleet only forty vessels, under Ouloudjé, made good their escape. But the victory of Lepanto was wasted, was not followed up, for though the Western nations might win battles, yet were they not equal to the Turks in the long run. Selim II died drunk, and was succeeded by Amurath III, who reigned from 1574-1595. A weak, dissolute ruler, he inaugurated his rule with customary fratricide; he had five brothers, whom he thought fit to remove out of the way of temptation to usurp the throne. The weakness of this Sultan affected the spirit of his armies, which fought with only partial success in Persia, while Amurath led a life of pleasure. He was swayed chiefly by his favourite Sultana, Safiyé, a Venetian lady of the noble House of Baffo, who had been captured by the Corsairs when young and presented to the Sultan. Yet, though the power of the Ottoman Empire was declining, it was still considered the most formidable in Europe, and Western monarchs did not hesitate to ask assistance of the Sultan. Even from distant England came ambassadors on such missions, urging Amurath to aid Queen Elizabeth against Spain; but help was not forthcoming. The Porte gained further feeling with the West by entering into commercial relations with other countries, and, moreover, treated them in no illiberal spirit. But corruption had set in among the armed forces of the Empire; commands and places were sold, and even the Sultan took his share of the profits. Corruption led to all manner of abuses, and these caused discontent; the Janissaries mutinied, and brought about the fall of a Grand Vizier; garrisons whose pay was far in arrears revolted at Pesth and Tabriz, the Druses of Lebanon began a series of insurrections which continued into recent times, and trouble arose among the peoples of Transylvania, Moldavia, and Wallachia. In the midst of all these happenings weak Amurath sickened and died, having done nothing for his country but to leave behind him twenty sons and twenty-seven daughters of the hundred and three children he begat. This gave his eldest son and successor, Mohammed III, a great deal to do before he could gird on securely the sword of Othman; he killed all his brothers, and seven female slaves in the condition called "Guter Hoffnung" by the Germans were sewn into sacks and thrown into the Bosphorus. Mohammed was also the last of the Imperial Princes to be trusted with the governorship of a province; from his time on all scions of the House of Othman were kept in rigorous seclusion, leaving it for the grave or the throne as fate might decide. This Sultan also preferred a life of ease to the hardships of campaigning, and amidst the pleasures of the Seraglio, where his mother, Safiyé Sultana Validé, reigned supreme, let the misfortunes that befell the Ottoman armies pass unheeded. Archduke Maximilian and Count Palffy, assisted by revolted Danube Princes, retook one strong place after another. Gran fell, and Visegrad, Ibrail (Braila), Rustchuk, and other cities on the Danube, till Grand Vizier Sead-ed-din insisted on the appearance of his imperial master in the field. The Sultan was with difficulty persuaded, but at last he displayed the sacred standard of the Prophet before his troops, and rekindled their martial ardour. His first battle was fought at Cerestes, and lasted three days, which the Sultan considered too long, for when on the third day the Christian forces seemed victorious, Mohammed, who was watching the fray from the back of a camel, thought it time to retire, and prepared to lead a rapid retreat. However, at the critical moment Cicala Pasha brought up some fresh irregular cavalry, and their impetuous charge broke the thinned ranks of the Christians. Probably for the first time in the history of Ottoman arms a number of troops, some thirty thousand Asiatics, broke and fled during this battle. They were pursued, and those who were captured suffered severe punishment at the hands of Cicala. Others escaped to Asia Minor, where they raised the banner of revolt, which distressed the remaining years of Mohammed's reign. In the meantime the war dragged on with varying success in Hungary, till both sides grew tired, and agreed to the Peace of Sitvatorok, by which Transylvania was practically lost to Turkey. The prestige of Ottoman power had been steadily sinking under Mohammed III, and its decline would have been more marked but for the dissensions and disturbances all over Europe. The German States were taking up arms against each other in the name of religion, Spain was declining rapidly since Philip II died, and Russia was rent by revolts. So the ill-success of Turkish arms during the reign of Achmet I, an imbecile, the revolts in Asia Minor, and the constant military mutinies, passed unnoticed by those sovereigns who might have been advantaged by the weakness of the Porte. The only really important event in the reign of Achmet I was the introduction of tobacco, the natural concomitant to coffee, with which the Turks became acquainted under Solyman the Great. On Mustapha's short reign of three months followed the unhappy time of the second Othman, who lacked all the good qualities of his great namesake. His chief pastime was archery, using prisoners of war, even his own pages, as targets, but for actual warfare he cared nothing, and entered into a very disadvantageous peace with Persia. His Janissaries grumbled at their sovereign's inertia, so to please them, and probably to bleed them a little, he engaged in war with Poland, which, proving disastrous, made the Sultan very unpopular. His disgusted soldiery therefore took him to Yedi Koulé, kept him there for some time a prisoner, and finally strangled him. [Illustration: THE DARDANELLES Turkish warships, cleared for action, lying in wait for the Greek fleet.] [Illustration: SEMENDRIA A Roman stronghold in Servia on the Danube, for long a Turkish fortress.] Palace and harem intrigues brought about such an impossible state of affairs in the country that even the army, generally ready to profit by confusion, became alarmed for the welfare of the Empire. The steps they took proved disastrous to themselves in the end. They placed Amurath, brother of Othman II, a child of eleven, on the throne, and then proceeded to govern the country under their own leaders and in their own interests. Western Europe was becoming more and more aware of the decline of Ottoman power in Europe, and there were not wanting prophets who foretold the speedy dissolution of the Turkish Empire, among these Sir Thomas Roe, ambassador from James I, who bemoaned the misery, anarchy, and general decay, as evident in 1622. A wise woman, his mother, Sultana Mahpeiker, guided Amurath IV through the troubled days of his childhood, and brought up a Sultan endowed with vigour of body and mind to man's estate. The first acts of his reign, the swift and secret killing of the rebel leaders, cowed the soldiery into submission. Amurath punished with death right and left, and even the Chief Mufti's head went to the executioner for the bad state of the roads over which his sovereign chose to travel. Amurath led his armies to war as former Sultans had been wont to do, and brought them back victorious, for Persia had been badly beaten and Bagdad retaken. The story is told of how at the siege of that city a Persian giant threw down the gauntlet to the Turkish army, how Amurath took it up, and in single combat clove the giant's skull to the chin with his sabre. The Persian garrison of thirty thousand was slaughtered, three hundred only making their escape. So Amurath returned to Constantinople, to enter the City in triumph at the head of his troops, and no Sultan has done so since that time. But Amurath broke the laws of the Prophet and drank wine. A story tells how the Sultan took the first step on the forbidden road. He was walking in the streets of his capital one night, when Mustapha, the drunkard, rolled up against him, and expressed no particular regret at bumping into his sovereign, in fact, was much too happy to dream of offering apologies to any monarch. He was summoned to the Court next day, and arrived there with his bottle: "Here is the liquid gold which outweighs all the treasures of the universe, which makes a beggar more glorious than a king, and turns the mendicant fakir into a horned Alexander." So spake Mustapha, offering his flask to Amurath, who drained it on the spot, and thus became a total non-abstainer. Mustapha remained about the palace as Amurath's boon companion, and their convivial evenings may have hastened the Sultan's end; he was only thirty-eight when sickness overtook him so suddenly that he had hardly time to order the execution of his brother Ibrahim, by way of settling up the affairs of state, and receive a message that the sentence had been carried out, before he died. Nevertheless Ibrahim came to the throne, and reigned from 1640-1648, for the Sultana's message to Amurath IV, bringing news of his brother's execution, was strictly untrue, and by this conventional lie, as one might describe it considering the etiquette of the time, a Sultan, rapacious, mean, bloodthirsty, and a coward, rose to the dignity of the Caliphate, became God's Shadow on Earth, and was girded with the sword of Othman. The harem was subject to Ibrahim's most serious consideration, and therefore insisted too much on its power; so when Kara Mustapha, the Grand Vizier, forgot to order firewood on the requisition of the dear little ladies who made the Sultan's life so bright and happy, he was arraigned on a capital charge. No matter that foreign politics engrossed the attention of the Grand Vizier, no matter that provinces won by the sword of Othman were drifting into other hands, no matter that the Treasury was empty--the ladies of the Seraglio had complained, and the Grand Vizier must suffer; so the executioner removed the only man who realized the needs of Turkey and strove to mend matters. To turn a dishonest penny for himself and his household expenses the Sultan sold high offices in the State, the Army, and the Navy, but when disaster attended Ottoman arms in their war against Venice, the Army became exasperated, deposed the Sultan, killed him, and set his infant son, Mohammed IV, a child of seven, upon the seat of the Cæsars and Sultans. Fortunately the new Sultan's mother had the great gift of finding the right man for the right place, the gift which enabled King William of Prussia, first German Emperor, to discover Bismarck, Moltke, and other great men who brought ruin to one Empire to give birth to another. The Sultana Validé called Mohammed Kiüprilü, then Governor of Jerusalem and Vizier of State, to be Grand Vizier, and thus started a dynasty of Grand Viziers which devoted great talents and energy to the saving of Ottoman power in the world. Mohammed, the new Grand Vizier, was grandson of an Albanian who had migrated to Asia Minor and settled at Kiüpri. He was probably a convert to Islam for purposes of advancement, a usual occurrence in those days. Mohammed Kiüprilü entered the service of the Grand Vizier Khosren as kitchen-boy, rose to be cook, then Steward of the Household, was promoted Master of the Horse, then became Governor of Damascus, Tripoli, and Jerusalem, when the Sultana discovered him to the saving of Turkey. Mohammed Kiüprilü set about his new duties with vigour and impartiality. There was much clearing-up at home; the Greek Patriarch had written to the Voivode of Wallachia prophesying that Christianity would soon replace falling Islam in the Ottoman possessions in Europe. His Holiness was hanged over his own gateway. The Grand Vizier spared no creed, no race, and thirty-six thousand persons suffered death in various forms during the first five years of the new order; Soulfikar, Chief Executioner of Constantinople, accounted for at least four thousand, strangled by his own hand and thrown into the Bosphorus. By these measures order was restored, then the navy was rebuilt, the army refitted, and Ottoman prestige rose again with the reconquest of several lost provinces. Another thoroughly efficient Kiüprilü, Achmet, followed his father in the Grand Vizierate, and led an army of 120,000 men, 120 field-guns, 12 heavy siege-guns, 6000 camels, and 10,000 mules, to Hungary, while Sultan Mohammed stayed behind at Adrianople indulging in his only pastime, the chase. The Ottoman army overran all Hungary and Transylvania, spreading devastation, until it finally halted on the banks of the Raab. Here, near the Monastery of St. Gothardt, East and West met in battle again. Many years had passed since their last encounter; in the meantime the West had progressed slowly, surely. German pikemen and musketeers offered solid, organized resistance, and kept the fiery irregular Akindji at bay; the cuirassiers of the West, heavy, steel-clad cavalry, riding in serried ranks, knee to knee, ploughed through the masses of Turkish foot-folk, and then, unlike their knightly predecessors, were by discipline enabled to rally and move to further deeds of valour. Against this, the Turkish army of that day had lost some of its old enthusiasm and had learnt nothing new. So at St. Gothardt, as at Kirk Kilisse, we find the West, high-purposed, highly trained and disciplined, opposed to the East, trading on a military tradition, unprepared, corrupt, inefficient, ill-disciplined--and with the same results. The battle of St. Gothardt-on-Raab was the first great defeat inflicted on the East by the West; 10,000 Turks were slain, 15 guns, 40 standards captured. A discomfited army returned to Constantinople after a twenty years' truce had been arranged with Austria, and sought relief, and possibly found it, in expeditions elsewhere; Candia was taken after a vain blockade and siege of twenty years. The Sultan was induced to accompany his army on the campaign against Poland in 1672, and gained some victories: Kaminec and Lemberg were taken, Podolia and Ukraine added to Turkey, and a tribute of two hundred and twenty thousand ducats was imposed on the conquered territory. But Sobieski and his Polish nobles combined against the Turks, routing them with great slaughter at Lemberg in 1675, though leaving matters much as they had been. On the death of Achmet Kiüprilü matters went from bad to worse, the Turks being defeated in the Ukraine by Russia; nevertheless a great effort was made to carry war into Austria, and an army of two hundred and seventy-five thousand men set out under Kara Mustapha, the new Grand Vizier, to besiege Vienna once more. Count Stahremberg and his garrison of eleven thousand men stoutly resisted the assaults delivered by the Turkish troops, who devoted all their energies to the attack, neglecting the defence of their own scattered encampments. This made Sobieski's task the easier when his army swooped down from the heights around Vienna. The Turks were totally routed, and driven in headlong flight before the armies of the West. Kara Mustapha was executed at Belgrade to expiate the general inefficiency of the army, which was thereupon beaten again in a renewed attempt on Hungary, at Mohacz; this battle freed the Magyars from the domination of the Sublime Porte. Turkey's misfortunes emboldened Venice to make reprisals on outlying posts of the Empire, and as Turkish naval power had declined in keeping with the efficiency of the land army, disaster after disaster exasperated the unruly soldiery, and they took to their favourite expedient of dethroning the Sultan. During the reign of Mohammed IV the status of the Janissaries was altered; no more Christian children were added to the corps, only the offspring of former Janissaries, and an ever-increasing number of Turks and other Moslems, in quest of the many civil as well as military posts, often given to this body. Another Solyman, second of the name, followed Mohammed IV, and he was followed by Achmet II (1691-1695). Both sovereigns enjoyed the services of a Kiüprilü as Grand Vizier, for Kiüprilü Zadé Mustapha held that high office during both reigns; but the Ottoman power had been much enfeebled by disastrous wars and inner dissensions; moreover, it had to contend against one of the world's greatest soldiers, "Prinz Eugen, der Edle Ritter." He scattered the Ottoman armies like chaff before the wind at Peterwardein and Belgrade, and again at Slankamen, in Achmet's reign, at which place, where the Theiss and Danube meet in a broad expanse of water, the Turkish river fleet won a partial success, which was negatived by a sore defeat on land. Kiüprilü was killed, and the Turks were driven from Hungary. Transylvania, too, was lost when Tekeli was beaten by the Imperialists; but yet subtler, more insidious enemies preyed upon the nation, famine and pestilence, and to all these troubles Nature contributed a devastating earthquake. These things came upon Sultan Achmet during the four years of his reign, and sent him broken-hearted to the grave. The Western nations had emerged out of their sea of troubles when Achmet II died in 1695. The German Empire had entered on a lengthy period of peace after distracting wars, and the gentler arts of peace revived. But the wars had consolidated the military power of the Empire, the impetuous chivalry of knights took the ordered form of discipline without losing its martial spirit, and Western brains advanced rapidly along the path of progress in all directions. In the meantime, Turkey had learnt nothing new, and was falling behind. The art of war was neglected, other arts there were none; and while in England immortal Milton's pen added to the world's literary treasures, while France was listening to Corneille's sonorous verses, and Algernon Sidney was discoursing concerning government, the power of the Osmanli was sinking into the ruin of corruption, the Empire built up by warlike Sultans was passing out of the hands of those who could not add to the conquests of war by the arts of peace, into the hands of those who were inspired with the spirit of a new era. CHAPTER XIV Mustapha II defeated by Prince Eugène--The Peace of Carlowitz--Death of Mustapha II--Charles XII of Sweden--More Turkish provinces lost--Mahmoud I--Gazi Hassan--Selim III and the Janissaries--Mahmoud II ascends the throne--Ibrahim punishes the Janissaries--Changes in Europe--The battle of Navarino--Von Moltke and the Turkish Army--The steady loss of provinces--Recent changes in the Ottoman Empire--Independence of military governors--Revolt of the Pasha of Scutari--Influence of the telegraph--The reign of Abdul Hamid--The Turks and non-Islamic subjects--The Young Turk party--Revolution and reaction--Deposition of Abdul Hamid--Western opinion of the Young Turks--The result of reform--The invasion of Turkey by the Allies--Turkey at the outbreak of the war. The power of the Ottoman Empire had been brought very low by the time Mustapha II, son of Mohammed IV, came to the throne in 1695. This Sultan was a man of greater capacity than any of his predecessors, and saw that only a return to the old ideals could bring the people back to the ways that lead to success in the field and prestige in the council of nations. He therefore issued a Hatti-Sherif, a manifesto of state, declaring that he would restore ancient usages, and in person lead his armies in the field. This he did with some initial success, marching from Belgrade to Temesvar, retaking several strong places, and defeating the Austrian general, Veterani, whose hiding-places were the caves which the traveller may see in the precipitous rocks that close in the Danube to northward on its way through the pass of Kazan to the Iron Gate. The campaign against Austria in 1696 also brought to the Sultan the victory over the Duke of Saxony and an imperial army at Temesvar. But in the following year Mustapha had to meet Prince Eugène at Zenta, and being completely out-manoeuvred, suffered defeat, aggravated by the conduct of the mutinous Janissaries, who thought fit to massacre their officers during the battle. By evening of September 11th, 1697, Prince Eugène saw his enemy in full flight, and was able to send the following message to his imperial master at Vienna: "The sun seemed to linger on the horizon to gild with his last rays the victorious standards of Austria." Sultan Mustapha fled from the field, where his Grand Vizier lay slain among thousands of his army, and never led his troops again in person. A treaty of peace for twenty-five years was signed at Carlowitz, on the Danube, after a vast amount of unnecessary trouble. The ambassadors of all the Powers, and there were many, represented at the conference, were each so jealous of their sovereign's dignity that the order of precedence could not be agreed upon. So a special chapel was built, and provided with so many doors that all the ambassadors could enter at the same moment. The chapel still stands on a hill-side near Carlowitz, a witness to this scene of exquisite trifling. Turkey was still strong at sea, and able to check Venetian aggressions, but on land Ottoman power had sunk below the level of the great nations of Western Europe, and so began that rôle of political rather than military importance, which has characterized the status of the Sublime Porte ever since. Another Kiüprilü Grand Vizier, Hussein, assisted Mustapha with the family aptitude for affairs, and certainly managed to improve Turkey's financial position. But the enemies of the Porte were all too powerful, not only Austria, but also Russia, for Peter the Great had been waging war with energy, and had added Turkish territory by the Sea of Azof to his Empire. Sick at heart, Mustapha II died in 1703, shortly after his Grand Vizier, Hussein Kiüprilü. It was perhaps owing to Russian designs that the Porte looked with a friendly mien towards Great Britain, and we find Sir Robert Sutton establishing pleasant relations between his sovereign and Achmet III, brother of and successor to Mustapha III. In this monarch's reign a romantic person roamed at large in Europe, fought battles, lost and won, and generally conducted himself more after the manner of the condottieri of other times than of a reigning sovereign of eighteenth-century Europe: Charles XII of Sweden was abroad, and though doing very much, effecting nothing. He drifted through Russia at variance with that country's ruler, and being defeated by Peter the Great at Pultowa in 1709, sought refuge in the Sultan's dominions. Another name well known to legend comes into history for a moment here--Hetman Mazeppa, who joined forces with Charles XII and, being considered a traitor by the Russians, met with the treatment his case required, according to their standard. The Swedish King's stay in Turkish territory did not improve the relations between the Porte and Russia; war was declared by the former in 1710, the method adopted being to incarcerate the Tsar's ambassador in the stronghold of Yedi Koulé. It is true that Turkey gained some successes, defeating Peter the Great by the banks of the Pruth, and Ottoman arms won some small victories over in Austria; but the decline of Turkey was not arrested. Prince Eugène marched on Belgrade, Servia rose, and more and more possessions passed from the Ottoman Empire in Europe, till by the Peace of Passarowitz, in Servia, all Hungary became free of Turkey, who had also lost Belgrade, Semendria, several other cities, and the province of Wallachia. Achmet abdicated in favour of his nephew, Mahmoud I, whose reign, from 1730-1754, showed a yet greater decline of Turkish power and prestige. Topal Osman, Mahmoud's general, scored some successes over the raiding Persian armies, but was defeated and killed at Kerkoud, while Nadir, Shah of Persia, was beating other Turkish armies. Desultory wars with Austria led to no other result than that Turkey was passing out of the ranks of great Powers, through its inability to adapt itself to the spirit of the age, to adopt new methods in place of those which had proved useless, even harmful, in the day of trouble. Attempts were made from time to time at a new order of things. Amongst the reformers was Gazi Hassan, the hero of the battle of Shio, in 1770. A fierce sea-fight was raging, in which the Turks were being worsted, when Hassan brought his ship alongside the Russian Admiral's and fought yard-arm to yard-arm until both vessels caught fire and went up. Hassan was the last to leave his ship, and then swam ashore, badly wounded. He rose to high office in the State, and endeavoured to introduce modern improvements, to equip the army with up-to-date weapons, and to restore some sort of discipline; but the army would have none of it, and even stout-hearted Hassan could not push his way through the inert mass of Turkish officialdom which crowded in to stifle all efforts at reform. Only the navy experienced any improvement, and that because Hassan insisted on the high-pooped, heavy Turkish ships being replaced by lighter, faster vessels, built on English lines. But fresh difficulties arose over the manning of these ships, as the Turks declined to do anything but act as gunners, so Greeks had to fill the ratings of the sailors. Gazi Hassan worked hard at this reform, and was surely entitled to the gratitude of his country; but such feelings existed not in those days, neither will any reformer find it in Turkey of to-day. Gazi Hassan was unsuccessful in war, during the latter years of his life, owing to the opposition offered to all his reforms, but this was not taken into consideration; it probably increased his unpopularity, till Selim III, on his accession in 1789, had to execute the old hero to appease a tumult among the populace of Constantinople. Selim III did not gain anything by his complaisance to the unruly soldiery, for by the beginning of his reign the Janissaries had become quite unmanageable, at least to a weak man. Their numbers had increased considerably, and stood at one hundred and fifty thousand, at least on paper, but there was sufficient reason to suppose that many figured on paper only, and that high-placed officials pocketed the pay of the non-existent members of the corps. Another change which had crept into the corps was that members were not necessarily available for, or liable to, military service, so many being engaged in civil employment. They were, however, ever ready to take up arms in revolt, and proved their political power by deposing and murdering Sultan Achmet III. The Janissaries had lost their _raison d'être_, and were no more than a public nuisance at a time when all Europe was seething with discontent, when old thrones were falling to the ground and new popular political institutions were teaching monarchs how a people prefers to be governed. Possibly the Janissaries were influenced by the spirit of revolt which informed so many peoples at this period, but I think it more likely that they acted out of selfishness only, and had no other desire than to hold the power of the State in their own hands, to their own advantage, allowing the Sultan to reign as long as he did not interfere with their rule. They were far too bigoted and jealous of their privileges to have taken to the idealistic notions which possessed so many patriots of the French Revolution. They deposed Selim III, and his successor reigned only a few months. Then came Mahmoud II, and he was more like the Sultans of the days of conquests than any of his immediate predecessors had been. The Janissaries annoyed him, so he determined to get rid of them, and happily had heard of the method used by Murat for soothing the turbulent Madrileños. It was time for drastic measures, because the external situation was becoming very dangerous; the Greeks were in revolt, Kara George had risen in Servia, Christians were being massacred in the Ottoman dominions, and the fact was beginning to attract the notice of Europe, in spite of so many other preoccupations. So Mahmoud II saw to his artillery, and instructed his Master of the Ordnance, Ibrahim, commonly called Kara Gehennin, Black Hell, in the use he wished it put to. The Janissaries were ordered out to military exercises one day, and as this did not please them, they gave the usual signal of revolt, by upsetting their camp-kettles. Mahmoud was ready for them; he unfurled the Sacred Standard of the Prophet, called on all true believers to rally round their Padishah and Caliph, and left Ibrahim to do the rest with his artillery. Those Janissaries who survived this treatment broke back to barracks, where they barricaded themselves, some six thousand. Ibrahim came up with his guns and knocked the buildings down about their ears; those who did not perish here were slain by irate citizens wherever they were caught, and so a great corps, whose earliest records were those of honourable battle, perished in a day. A new army of forty thousand was then raised, clothed, armed, and disciplined, according to European models. The old order was changing, had changed, with startling quickness all over Europe, and all the known world was affected by the events that filled the times when Mahmoud II sat on the throne of Constantine. When this Sultan succeeded, France had already passed through the fire of Republican Government to the glory of a military Empire, had again accepted the principle of hereditary nobility while French arms were victorious over nearly all the continent of Europe. A new Republic had arisen out of muddle and misrule in Great Britain's American colonies, and as compensation, perhaps, that country was laying the foundations of the Indian Empire, and paving the way to the possession of Egypt, on the battlefields of the Iberian Peninsula. Mahmoud lived long enough to witness all these many changes. Before he died, in 1839, he saw the fleets of Great Britain, France, and Russia threatening him with punishment unless the bloodshed caused by the Hellenic effort after freedom ceased at once, saw his own fleet, despite its bravery and that of his Egyptian allies, destroyed at Navarino, and as consequence a Christian King appointed by the Powers to rule over his former subjects in Greece. Even Turkey endeavoured to show some appreciation of the "Zeit Geist" by instituting reforms, and wisely began with the Army, calling in for the first time German instructors. One of these, a tall young officer with fair curly hair, some forty years later planned the campaign which laid the second French Empire in the dust, Field-Marshal Count von Moltke. Of the Turks, after the war with Russia, which followed shortly on Navarino, Moltke said: "The splendid appearance, the beautiful arms, the reckless bravery of the old Moslem horde had disappeared, yet this new army had one quality which placed it above the numerous host that in former times the Porte could summon to the field--it obeyed." Does the spirit of obedience still form one of the many good qualities of the Turkish soldier? It is hard to say, for this war has given instances of the old bravery and devotion, steadiness under fire, which means discipline, obedience; but against that you have evidence of the contrary, of swarms of men straying away unarmed from their posts at the front, and hiding in the purlieus of Stamboul, while from Asia Minor come reports of whole divisions which had declined to take part in the Balkan War. In the meantime the dismemberment of the Turkish Empire continued. By 1811 Milosh Obrenoviç had forced the Porte to relinquish all claims on Servia, and in 1832 a Bavarian Prince became King of an independent Greece. Some thirty years later the Russo-Turkish War gave autonomy to Bulgaria, Bosnia and Herzegovina were occupied by Austria, these events being followed by the independence of Roumania and Servia as kingdoms entirely free from any Turkish control. The last of Turkey's conquered provinces became free when Tsar Ferdinand proclaimed himself ruler of all the Bulgarians. This last event synchronized with an expression of popular feeling engineered by a political association generally known as Young Turks. It is a common saying that nothing changes in the East; it is also inaccurate, like most generalizations. Changes came, even to Turkey, through her contact with the West. Change comes very slowly to such a people as are the Turks, and when it does come it leaves behind more bewilderment among the bulk of the nation than is usually the case in Western races. Again, to the outside world the changes which have passed over the Ottoman Empire in recent years have seemed to come suddenly, because the effects had the appearance of precipitancy. Revolt, revolutionary changes, are nothing new in the Ottoman Empire, but till lately have passed more or less unnoticed, probably because their effects were not particularly striking. [Illustration: CONSTANTINOPLE Seen from above Scutari; beyond it the Sea of Marmora and the distant coast where the lines of Chatalja end to southward.] Such changes as have taken place occurred almost entirely in the European provinces of the Ottoman Empire, and may be said to have begun during the last century. The European provinces of Turkey always contained factors making for the disruption of the Empire: subject races, alien in everything to their masters, centrifugal forces for a time controlled by military governors whose methods did not as a rule tend to bring about conciliation. The bonds that bound the provinces to the Central Government were none of the strongest before the days when an official's every step was dictated to him by telegraph from the Porte, and local governors acted with great independence. Military pashas even made war on and concluded peace with each other, after the manner of mediæval dynasts. Some went even further, as did the Pasha of Janina. He started life as a brigand, and made himself pasha by the simple expedient of forging his commission. This trifling misdemeanour was overlooked by the Porte, as he was a strong man, and might be useful to the interests of the Empire, and, moreover, if it came to the worst, could always be disowned. As it happened, Ali Pasha was too strong, or the Central Government too weak, and so he went to lengths to which no other pasha had gone before him. Ali Pasha's lifetime fell into those days when Europe was big with revolution against ancient dynasties, and was tiring of time-honoured institutions. No doubt personal vanity, that strong incentive of revolutionaries, reformers, and others in search of notoriety, swayed Ali Pasha. He conducted a foreign policy quite independent of that pursued by the Porte, entered into negotiations with Napoleon or Pitt, as he deemed expedient, and generally acted with complete independence. Incidentally, Ali Pasha helped towards the dismemberment of his sovereign's Empire by favouring the Greeks in their strivings after freedom; it was probably not his original intention. Ali Pasha very fittingly fell a victim to a conspiracy of those whom he had injured in one way or another. Another pasha to raise the banner of revolt was Passvan Oglou of Vidin, who, when the Porte sought to depose him, prepared to march on Constantinople, and the Central Government was obliged to make peace with him. Then, again, the Pasha of Scutari revolted, but the Porte contrived to settle him and the chief of his conspiracy by a breach of Turkish hospitality, by a massacre at a banquet. The separation of Egypt from the complex of military governorships which constituted the Ottoman Empire, was another indication that the old order was not in keeping with the spirit of the age. The destruction of the Turkish fleet at Navarino, and the massacre of the Janissaries, by which the flower of the Turkish Army was lost, were further signs of the times, and prepared for changes even in Turkish administration, and finally, by the emancipation of Greece, that administration was deprived of some of its best brains, for since that event not even the meanest Greek would accept office under the Porte. The telegraph wrought further changes; it brought the Central Government, restored to order by Reshid Pasha, into closer touch with the provinces, made greater control of officials possible, and finally robbed these of all initiative. Moreover, higher officials were no longer chosen from among the local magnates, but drawn from a lower class, less likely to act independently; by this a new bureaucracy was called into being and its ineptitude caused further trouble. In the reign of Abdul Hamid all the vilayets of European Turkey were absolutely controlled from Yildiz Kiosk, and as that ruler was far above concerning himself with such trifling matters as racial distinctions among his subjects, unless they proved of value in sowing discord between the various nationalities under his sway, Greeks, Bulgarians, Serbs, and others met with little consideration at the hands of the Sultan's deputies. _Force majeure_ applied by the Great Powers was the only argument to which Sultan Abdul Hamid answered, and the Russo-Turkish war brought about changes which we have already considered. The great body of the Turkish nation lived quite contentedly under Abdul Hamid. He was Sultan, Caliph, God's Shadow upon Earth, and ordered mundane matters from heights almost as remote as the high heavens. He was the head of a theocratic power, based on militarism, and his Turkish subjects were content that he should remain so. To them a ruler who declined to differentiate between dynamo and dynamite was well suited. Every village provided for its own security by appointing watchmen, and education was the concern of the churches. The Gendarmerie was not concerned with preventing crime or tracing criminals unless the State, not private property, were endangered. That a State so raised, so maintained, should act as an organization for protecting and furthering the interests of its subjects, of whatever race or creed, is not to be expected, neither did the great body of the Turkish nation ever wish it to assume such functions. For the Turks were the dominant race, the conquerors, and to them any idea of their non-Islamic, non-Turk fellow-subjects as equals was inconceivable; their religion made such a state of affairs impossible. Thus for the ordinary Turk, as for the more enlightened ones, those in power had every interest in supporting the old order of things, for most of them must have known that once the non-Turk elements were placed on a level with the sons of Othman, the latter's _locus standi_ would have gone, seeing his ineptitude for any modern thought, his incapacity for progress. The _raison d'être_ of the State was to perpetuate Osmanli ascendancy, and to this end Abdul Hamid worked, and he worked well for his own people. This ascendancy was jealously guarded; no Christian was ever allowed executive command over Moslems, and to this is due in great measure the failure of all attempted reforms in the naval and military services of the Ottoman Empire. Added to this is a certain distrust which the Turk has of all Christians, believing that a man who does not follow the law of the Koran cannot be absolutely loyal to the Sultan. In many instances the Turk's suspicions were justified, but it was not religious sentiment alone which separated Moslem and non-Moslem in the Ottoman Empire, for those Jews who are the Sultan's subjects are well content to remain so. Unlike other non-Moslem subjects of the Sultan, those Jews, mostly refugees from Spain's and Portugal's most Catholic Majesties, have no outside Powers to espouse their cause, nor have they any grievance, for, being isolated, the Porte has no reason to fear them. It is most unlikely that the Jews of Saloniki, for instance, would welcome the Slavs as masters, nor have the Greeks, since their occupation of that town, ingratiated themselves with the children of Israel. Like the Jews, the Turks form a religious community rather than a State in its modern conception, and these two resemble each other inasmuch as neither understands the word "Fatherland" as applying to a country exclusively occupied by their co-nationals. The word "Vatan," meaning Motherland, conveys no definite meaning to the Turks; it had to be interpreted to them by the self-appointed leaders of thought who formed the Young Turk Party. To those who have lived in India the word "Vatan" will be familiar in the sense that it defines a man's place of origin rather than a sentimental idea, such as the words "Home," "Patria," "Heimat," or "Vaterland." To this inarticulate mass of Moslems living contentedly under the Sultan's sway, a body of Young Turks brought the Western conception of a State. The "Spirit of the East," so strong among the Turks, was disquieted by a movement which seemed to work outside the limits of the "Law," as written by the Prophet. The work done by the new political power in Turkey appealed strongly to the great mass of the people in Western Europe, to those who had no experience of the East and its mysterious ways. The reformers, after years of strenuous effort, years spent in exile, broke in upon Abdul Hamid's plans for maintaining Turkish ascendancy when Niazi Bey raised the standard of revolt in 1908, and threatened to march on Constantinople with the Second and Third Army Corps. Abdul Hamid yielded to pressure, and ordered the election of a Chamber of Deputies, at the same time encouraging a counter-revolution in his capital. This movement was led by Kiamil Pasha, the Grand Vizier then (as he is again at present), against the Committee of Union and Progress. The reformers proved too strong, and Kiamil Pasha was forced to resign; he was succeeded by Hilmi Pasha, formerly Commissioner of Macedonia. The acts of the Committee of Union and Progress began to bear fruit at once, and of a nature unexpected by those enthusiasts who had only the idea of a great Liberal Empire under a constitutional Sultan before their eyes, otherwise blind to side issues. But these side issues grew and crystallized into a segregation of the non-Islamic sections of the population, who felt more than ever justified in insisting on their own respective nationality. An early disagreement arose between the Committee of Union and Progress and the Liberal Union, a body called into being to represent the Christian electorate. The murder of Hussein Fehmi, an Albanian editor of the Union's official organ, provoked his compatriots among the troops in Constantinople to action against the Committee of Union and Progress; mutinous soldiers seized the Parliament House and telegraph offices, while delegates from the Liberal Union suggested entering into negotiations with the other party. In the meantime Abdul Hamid had pardoned the mutineers, and this gave the Committee sufficient excuse for considering the revolt as reactionary; the Committee were well aware that their new regime could not succeed while the Sultan seemed to favour reaction. An army under Mahmoud Shevket marched on Constantinople, invested the capital, occupied it after some fighting, and ordered the National Assembly to depose Abdul Hamid, electing his younger brother to succeed as Mohammed V. In itself, the deposition of a Sultan by a revolted section of the Army was nothing new in the annals of Ottoman history; it had occurred frequently, but was generally understood to have been an expression of the "Will of Allah." "The Will of the People" was made responsible for the effects of the last revolution, and none were more bewildered than the bulk of the Turkish people themselves when this reasoning was explained to them. The Effendi class, the gentry, as it were, many of them men of intelligence, were as a whole by no means enamoured of the Committee of Union and Progress and its ways, knowing well how little the Turkish people were prepared for violent reforms. The people themselves seem to have quite failed to enter into the spirit of the new era; they missed the religious note; no mention was made of Allah, in fact, the professed agnosticism of some less cautious reformers led them to suggest that Allah had nothing to do with the business. Then again, Christians, even Armenians, were to be looked upon as equals, treated as such, whereas every one knew that they had to submit, as becomes the vanquished, thus duly acknowledging the Turk as their superiors. Then a new word, besides the unintelligible "Vatan," was being used to describe the governing power, "Constitution," "Meshrutiet," which many took to be a new, strange name for the succeeding Sultan. The election of delegates did not meet with thorough approval; some considered that it raised individuals above the mass of Moslems, who are all equal in the sight of the Prophet, others could not understand why an assembly was necessary to voice the Sultan's "Irade" (in its original meaning, intention), and, again, there were those who thought of Parliament as a plaything of the Sultan's, and justified for that reason only. In the meantime enthusiastic Western nations, especially those who consider representative government the panacea for all social ills, because their own genius had evolved the system, loudly acclaimed the Young Turks as saviours of their country, as apostles of freedom, as heroes, and most members of the reform party gladly accepted this interpretation of their somewhat confused mentality. If you are called a hero you are very likely to believe it, even if it robs you of your proper sense of proportion. This happened to the Young Turks collectively. The promised reforms had never been demanded by the bulk of the Turkish people, who therefore had no standpoint from which to gauge the results of reforms; they supposed that everything was to be free, amongst others, railway travelling, and I have heard of Turks invading a first-class compartment, and not only declining to pay their fare, but objecting to Christians riding in the same coach. The Committee of Union and Progress showed the inherited genius of destruction, but failed when it came to construction. Western people said, "Give them time," but time brought no betterment. The old order had been ruthlessly destroyed, the fear of authority had been dispelled, and nothing was created to fill the vacant places in the mind of the people. Public administration suffered, neglected because the reformers had no thought but for the maintenance of their own dignity, and this was entrusted to an esoteric militarism, to a political body whose members were not publicly known, and who were therefore removed from public responsibility. The worst effects of this clandestine body politic were felt in the army, and those whose business it was to maintain the efficiency of the Sultan's forces were too much concerned with political machinations to attend to their primary duties. The disorder which resulted in all departments of public life led to an increase in the ever-present inertia of the Turk when not engaged in warfare, and acted as a further hindrance to reform. In the Army the spirit of change brought from the West worked the greatest havoc. The Anatolian peasant, a simple-minded, strong, enduring child, when called for service with the colours, found no more of the old officers, who were content to lead without domineering, in a single-hearted effort for the Faith. In their stead he found men who assumed airs of superiority, who lived apart, and were not interested in the simple working of the soldier's mind. These officers took as their models the men who train the German Army on German lines, suitable only to the German people, and appear to have disregarded the national peculiarities of their own kin. Some were even lax in matters of religious observance, and how could a war prove victorious when all due glory was not given to the God of battles? Again, there were Christians fighting, in the ranks only, side by side with Moslems--how could this be? Is not war a religious commandment, a sacred matter in which infidels can have no part? The Koran says: "Who dies for God's sake receives the highest reward"; but how can a Christian be so blest, as he does not follow the law of the Prophet? Thus bewildered the Anatolian peasant marched to war, inspired by Islam, obedience, resignation, against the armed manhood of nations who breathed freedom. The Porte, or the inexpert executive of the Ottoman Empire, had failed to realize that the Balkan States had been strengthened by the weakening of Islam's simple ideals, that hopes of liberty had risen high among the Christian subjects of the Sultan in Europe, and that a formidable alliance was in being, conceived with the sole idea of ending Turkish rule over European Christians. With a thoroughness of which the Oriental mind is incapable, the great coup had been prepared by the Balkan States. A hard-and-fast Alliance which for the time overrode all political and religious differences confronted the Porte, and roused it suddenly to face a desperate emergency. The Kochana massacres brought matters to a head, while Turkey was still engaged in apathetic war with Italy. Bulgaria insisted in peremptory tones on reform in Macedonia, Servia raised its voice over the detention of munitions of war in transit from Saloniki, via Üsküb, to Nish; Montenegro found a _casus belli_, and was first to pour its armed sons down from the mountains into Turkey. They captured Detchich on October 9th, the day after the formal declaration of war; they seized Tuzi and Berane, and proceeded to invest Scutari. While thus engaged the Porte was forced to declare war on Bulgaria and Servia on October 17th, and on the same day Greece took a like step towards Turkey. An army under the Crown Prince at once invaded the southern provinces of the Empire. The floods were out, and Western armies, highly trained, purposeful, each individual fighter inspired by love of liberty, full of zeal for the cause he had at heart, overflowed into Thrace, Thessaly, and Macedonia. The Ottoman Army had but recently been engaged in manoeuvres, and these had shown many glaring defects of organization. When the Allied Armies marched, the Turks were more unready than ever; they had even sent their reservists home. Then began a scene of frantic disorder. Units were hurried to the front where the commanders of brigades, divisions, army corps, impatiently awaited them. The carefully arranged commands and sub-commands were entirely disregarded, and each brigadier or divisional commander seized on troops as they arrived, indiscriminately, and added them to his command. Thus the war, begun in confusion, invited defeat. And defeat came swiftly, mercilessly, while the unorganized masses of Ottoman troops, however bravely individuals might comport themselves, were swept away before the rising tide. Everybody failed, except perhaps the long-suffering Turkish soldier; ammunition reserves were not, food supplies gave out at once, and by the end of October all Thessaly, all Macedonia, the greater part of Thrace, were no longer Turkish possessions, and the Sultan's armies, broken, starved, diseased, were driven behind the lines of Chatalja, the outer defences of the capital. On these lines the remnant of Ottoman military power guarded the last trace of Turkish dominion in Europe; shivering on the wind-swept heights, ill-equipped, underfed, regardless of elementary hygiene, they awaited Kismet, these ill-used, long-suffering sons of Islam, while in the Empire's capital the mosques filled with sick and wounded, mingling with refugees from the former European vilayets. There were others yet in the City, or why should the War Office have issued an order to the imams, the priests, to render account of officers and men of the army who are hiding in the narrow streets of their respective parishes? The police were also instructed to demand of officers they saw in the streets some document to show that they were authorized to be in the town instead of at the front. Seven short weeks and the Empire carved out of Europe by the sword of Othman has shrivelled up before the fierce blast of war like grass before a prairie fire. And in their need and sickness the soldiers of Islam turned to Allah, the god of battles, and sought refuge in the mosques built to commemorate the triumphs of departed Caliphs. CHAPTER XV The Greeks, ancient and modern--Origin of the modern Greeks--Mohammed the Conqueror and the Greeks--The Greeks under Selim I--The rise of the Phanariot Greeks--The work of the Orthodox Church--The Greek literary revival--The trade of the Greeks--The revival of Hellenism--The first Pan-Hellenic rising--The revolt of the Islands--Ali Pasha's assistance--Massacres--The battle of Navarino--The last war between Greece and Turkey--Joachim III--The story of the Patriarchate--The funeral of His Holiness Joachim III--The Greeks in the last war--A legend of Balukli. When Mohammed II completed the conquest of the Eastern Empire by the capture of Constantinople he made himself master of a large population, both in the City and the former Empire of old Byzantium, which had for some time been considered Greek, and which was subsequently called Greek. This classification was religious from the Turkish point of view, from that of the Greeks themselves it became racial as time went on. To the conquering Moslem all those were Greeks who belonged to the Orthodox Church; the Greeks, however, insisted on their descent from the historic people who had made their country famous before the days of the Romans even, the Hellenes, whose literature they adopted, whose art they basely imitated, and with whose high attributes they consider themselves endowed. This people, the classic Greeks, the Hellenes, had inhabited the Peloponese Peninsula from those dark ages before recorded history, and even in prehistoric times had occupied the islands between Greece and Asia Minor. No doubt the Hellenes moved down from the plains of Central Europe, the cradle of the Aryan race, in successive waves, being urged forward by seething masses of young nations behind them. We have some indications as to what manner of men they were in the early works of art of the sixth century B.C., which tend to show that these ancient immigrants were large, blue-eyed, fair-haired men. Anthropologists maintain after studying the skulls of ancient Greeks that these were dolichocephalic, long-headed, which tends further to the conclusion that the first invaders of this peninsula were akin to the races of Northern Europe. The first immigrants were probably the Arcadians, who spread from the coasts to the islands and populated Crete, Rhodes, and Cyprus. They were followed by the Doric tribe, kinsmen who came from Thrace, who probably brought the first immigrants to submission and gradually absorbed them, and such of the aboriginals, the Ionians, who did not migrate to Asia Minor. Within the range of history another people came down from the north to influence the Peloponese, the Macedonians. Their origin is uncertain, but what traces are left of their old language, a name here and there, suggests that they were akin to the Illyrians, had adopted Greek culture, and were ruled by princes who wished to be considered pure Greeks. It would seem, therefore, that the ancient Hellenes were a mixture of various northern Aryan races and aboriginal inhabitants, Illyrians, Ionians, whose origin forms a yet unsolved historical problem. The Peloponese was, as it were, a pier, standing out into the Mediterranean Sea, and from which northern ideas extended and spread southward to Africa, eastward over the Archipelago to Asia. The subtle attraction of an outlet must have acted on the subconsciousness of other northern races, in that the Hellenes, far from feeling secure in their peninsula, were constantly exposed to the visits of strange barbaric visitors whenever "Wanderlust" moved the tribes of Central Europe. Of course, Romans left their impress, and so did wandering Goths, but strongest of all was the influence of the Slavs, and they so seriously affected the Peloponese that at one time it was known as Slavinia. To all this came an Albanian invasion in the thirteenth century, so that the Greeks of to-day cannot lay claim to anything more than spiritual descent from the ancient Hellenes. The type has changed completely from that of the traditional Greek: he was tall, fair-haired, and long-headed; the Greek of to-day is of medium height, they have not ten per cent of fair-haired people amongst them, and they are brachycephalic, like the Slavs. Other Slav influences may be traced in the language, in the names of places and rivers. The Hellenes of to-day may be spiritual children of Hellas, physically they are certainly the result of a mixing of races--Illyrian, Ionian, Hellenes, Latins, Goths, Slavs of various tribes, Vlachs, Albanians, and a dash contributed by the pious Crusaders of Western Europe. These Greeks are widely distributed over the Balkan Peninsula, throughout the Turkish Empire, and over the Archipelago, and are considered a nation on the basis of an assertion made by M. Kapodistrias, the first President of the new Hellenic State. When asked, Who are the Greeks? he answered: "The Greek nation consists of the people who, since the conquest of Constantinople, have never ceased to profess adherence to the Orthodox Church, to speak the language of their fathers, and who have remained under the jurisdiction, both spiritual and temporal, of their Church, wherever they might live in the Turkish Empire." This is, of course, a very inaccurate description, but at least serves to illustrate Greek pretensions. The Greeks reckon the total of their nationals in the Balkan Peninsula at roughly eight millions, but I doubt whether they number more than five millions, for the Helenophils who have been making propaganda for years among the Slavs in Macedonia are much inclined to count in those converts, many of whose sons, by the way, have been won back by the Slavs and now call themselves Serbs or Bulgars, according to the nationality of their teachers. About two millions of these five make up the population of the Kingdom of Greece, the remainder are scattered about in the other Balkan States. The majority are to be found in Turkey and along the coasts from Saloniki to Varna, between two and three hundred thousand live in Constantinople and by the shores of the Bosphorus, in fact, they are to be found in all the important towns, not only of Turkey in Europe and Asia Minor, but also in Bulgaria and Russia. No doubt the preference for town life dates from the days of barbarian invasions. The Greeks are chiefly engaged in trade and business, though many are fishermen employed in the coasting trade. Mohammed II, on his triumphal entry into Constantinople, found a smaller population than might have been expected from a large and important city. Many of the Greeks had fled, not a few had been massacred, and it took some skill and statecraft to induce the fugitives to return. This Mohammed succeeded in doing by reinstating the Greek Patriarch with great and solemn ceremony, and by promising perfect religious freedom to the Greek community. The Greeks had always devoted more attention to the affairs of their Church than to outside matters of state (which fact helped to ruin the Eastern Empire), and the Sultan encouraged this spirit. He increased the importance of the Greek community in the capital by numerous concessions, such as ranking the Patriarch among the Viziers of State, giving him temporal control over his flock in matters of marriage, divorce, inheritance, management of schools, in which he was assisted by officials of the Church with such high-sounding names as Logothete, Grand Treasurer, Chatophylax. Mohammed could afford to strengthen the Greek element in Constantinople as it was always under his eyes; in the country he endeavoured to break what remained by importing fifteen thousand Greeks from the land to the capital as settlers. The Turks were not much interested in trade, a pursuit that does not appeal to warriors, so business was left to the Greeks, and both parties were sufficiently satisfied to get on very well together at first. There was some discontent in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and Selim I had an idea that a massacre might do good; however, he was dissuaded by the Mufti. About this time it was decided to take no more Greek children for the ranks of the Janissaries; the method formerly used kept the provincial Greeks in order by means of their own progeny converted to Islam and unrelenting foes to Christianity, and no more Greeks joined the Army of Turkey because none others than Moslems were allowed to serve in it. Christians might, however, become Armatoles, a kind of mounted gendarmes which the communities raised and kept at their own expense, as the Turk has never seen the necessity of securing any one's life or fortune, and used what police force there was to nose out conspiracies and such matters of interest. Brigandage, if committed by Moslems upon Christians, was not looked upon as a serious crime, and went unpunished until Western nations began to interfere in Turkish affairs. The Greeks in the country therefore kept their own gendarmerie, who, after the example of the Turkish zaptiehs, looked with no unfriendly eye on the reprisals committed by the Klephts, outlaws and brigands of their own race. On the whole the Greeks had quite a bearable time under Turkish rule, especially in the capital, where their importance increased considerably. In the course of time a colony of patricians grew up around the Phanar, much in the same neighbourhood inhabited by those connected with the Byzantine Court before the conquest. These patricians were not descended from nobles of the former Empire, but came from families of merchants who had settled in Constantinople around the residency of the Patriarch. When the military power of the Osmanli declined and they were obliged to use treaties where formerly threats had served their purpose, the Sublime Porte felt a need for trained intellects to carry on intricate negotiations, especially as the Turks were much too indolent to learn a foreign language. So Jews and renegades were called in as interpreters, and in course of time Greeks discovered a suitable field for their abilities in the welter of Turkish foreign affairs. The Turks were equally sensible to the uses of intellectual, though generally servile, Phanariots, and employed them in ever-increasing numbers and extended their responsibilities. A Greek, Panayoti, was made dragoman to the Porte by Achmet Kiüprilü; another Greek, Mavrocordato, signed the Treaty of Carlowitz as Turkish plenipotentiary; and so by degrees Greeks came into the public service of the Ottoman Empire. Phanariots rose to yet higher honours when at the beginning of the eighteenth century Turkey had reason to distrust the nationalist parties in Wallachia and Moldavia. Hospodars were sent from Constantinople to those provinces, and many of these were of Greek Phanariot families, introducing into Roumania names well known there to-day: Mavrocordato, Soutza, Ypsilanti, Ghika. The Orthodox Church was very active, especially in Macedonia, and it is thanks to her that the members of the Slav race in that province have not lost every trace of their nationality, every vestige of their faith during those long centuries when Servia groaned under the iron heel of Sultans passing through triumphant, and Bulgaria had ceased to be. That Christianity was kept alive in Servia, Macedonia, Bulgaria, and that any culture remained in those countries after their conquest by the Turks, is due to the insistence with which the Patriarchate at Constantinople pursued its work of maintaining schools, distributing literature, etc., in those districts. True, their tendency and probably their aim was to Hellenize Serbs and Bulgarians. Moreover, they would have succeeded had not those nationalities, which the Orthodox Church had kept alive, felt their own strength and in their turn insisted on a line of their own. Certainly for many generations, and until within the memory of man, Bulgars and Serbs in Macedonia have described themselves as Greeks. This propaganda continued unchecked so long as the Phanariots did not lay themselves open to the suspicion of Hellenism. Turkish rule was strict, often unjust, but the Turk had not come to realize that the subject races could make their way out of the mire into which Islam's conquests had thrust them. The literary spirit of the Greeks had been all but killed by the Moslem conquest of their capital, and when it revived at last spent its energies in theological controversy for several centuries. But by degrees colleges were started, theatres opened, and the world beyond the confines of the Turkish Empire was called in to witness the Greek revival by assiduous Pan-Hellenic agencies, clubs, and societies in Vienna, Bucharest, Corfu. This revival was strongest, at least in its literary efforts, in the middle of the eighteenth century, towards the end of that, and at the beginning of the nineteenth century. As no revival can hold its head up without a poet or two, the Pan-Hellenes raised two, Rhigas and Coreas, poets and patriots who found it convenient to sing their inspired song some distance from home, for exile is always the most suitable setting for genius of that order, and is, moreover, so much safer. Unhappily this did not apply to Rhigas, who had settled somewhere in Austria; the Government of that country handed him over to the Turkish authorities, who executed him at Belgrade. His death inspired other poets to further efforts of the patriotic order, so all was not yet lost. The commercial genius of the Greeks ever stood them in good stead; they defied the competition of others, and left even Jews and Armenians far behind. This quality led to their being preferred for the consular service of the Ottoman Empire. They managed to make considerable profits out of the treaty between Russia and Turkey in 1774, and soon the carrying trade of the Levant was in their hands. This attracted numbers of the seafaring Greeks into the mercantile marine, and left the Turkish Navy in recruiting difficulties, for it had depended on the Greeks for seamen. The prosperity of the Greek merchants carried them further afield, and they started large business houses in Odessa, Trieste, Venice, and London, and it was largely owing to these merchants that the patriotic songs of Rhigas were revived, and by them the nationalist ambitions of the Pan-Hellenes. The French Revolution fanned the spirit of revolt into living flame, and by 1815 a strong political union called the Hetaireia was called into being, with the object of freeing Greece from Turkish rule by organized revolt. Four Greek merchants of Moscow started this union, and it was decorated with the usual accessories of conspiracy, symbols, ceremonies, a mysterious language, in fact, the whole outfit suitable to the occasion. Moreover, it flourished, and numbered two hundred thousand members by 1820. The Turks had taken the alarm meanwhile, and were preparing in characteristic fashion to meet all contingencies. Special officials, mostly Albanians, were appointed to keep a strict control over the mountain-passes from Macedonia and Epirus into Thessaly and Acarnania, and these officials managed their oppressive measures so well that by the middle of the eighteenth century they had removed all the little jealousies among the different Greek communities and led them all to coalesce; even the Klephts and Armatoles, official opponents as they were, became reconciled and united with the others against the Turks. Another cause of unrest in Greece was the constant changing of the ruling power in Morea. Mohammed II took this province, all but a number of towns which Venice retained till 1540 and then handed over to the Turks. But the Venetians wanted them back, and re-annexed them about a century later, during the reign of a weak Sultan, and held them until they were again accorded to the Turks by the Peace of Passarowitz, in 1718. As may be supposed, Russia and Greece entered into some kind of private understanding, and Peter the Great was by no means disinclined to assist in any revolt which would tend to weaken Ottoman power and make it easier for him to acquire those outlying bits of the Sultan's Empire upon which he had set his heart. But no advantage came to Greece through Peter the Great's policy, nor through the influence of Russia during the first rising of the Hellenes, in 1770. Greece built firmly on Russian support, for Orloff, the favourite, had drawn Catherine's attention to the state of affairs in that country, described to him by one Papadopoulo. However, something went wrong; the Greeks accused the Russians of treachery, the Russians the Greeks of cowardice, and in the end Greece got nothing and Russia the Crimea, which was probably the sole object of the manoeuvre as far as the Northern Empire was concerned. The Turks, by way of admonition, let loose Albanian troops, with permission to plunder and ravage; fifty thousand Greeks were massacred and the country given over to desolation. The Albanians went out of hand so completely that they were beyond the control of the Porte for nine years after this unsuccessful Greek rising, and were not reduced to a semblance of submission until defeated by a Turkish army at Tripolitza. Nevertheless, when next Russia declared war on Turkey the latter at once let loose the Albanians over Greece again. In the meantime Klephts and Armatoles, united as wild men of the mountains, had become a formidable asset for purposes of revolt. A number of islands were the first to throw off the Turkish yoke: Corfu, Paso, Zante, Ithaka, Kephalonia, and two others. These islands had belonged to Venice from the fifteenth century till the end of the eighteenth, when they were ceded to France, and after several changes became the United Republic of the Seven Ionian Islands, under Great Britain's protection, until incorporated, without their consent, in the Kingdom of Greece, in 1863. Assistance came to Greece in her struggle for freedom from a very unlikely quarter, from Ali Pasha of Janina, who, to further his ambition of becoming an independent ruler, used the Greeks for his purposes by inducing them to unite with him against the Sultan. Ali Pasha died before his plans could mature, but, what he probably did not intend, Greece remained united, and were urged on by patriotism to go to further lengths. The first serious revolt of the Hellenes against the Turks was engineered by Alexander Ypsilanti, son of a Hospodar, in Moldavia and Wallachia, but met with little sympathy from the Roumanians; and as Russia disowned Ypsilanti, the movement was crushed by the Turks in a few months. The attempted rising provoked the Moslems to a general massacre of Christians; the sons of Islam were summoned to a jehad, and racial and religious passions were roused to frenzy. Massacres occurred on both sides, savage executions took place; for instance, the Patriarch was hanged at his own gate, and many bishops and nobles were executed the same day, simply because they were suspected of complicity in a fresh revolt in Morea. While the Morean rebels were being exterminated, the Porte found time for organized massacres in Macedonia and Thrace; but still revolution held its own, even gained some successes, assisted largely by foreign gold. Revolt had been in full swing for three years, without any evidence of calming down, so the Sultan ordered Mehemet Ali of Egypt to despatch an army of invasion to Morea. This was done; the army of Ibrahim Pasha, son of Mehemet Ali, had fairly easy work with the insurgents, stamping out the revolt in the usual, time-honoured manner, by exterminating the Greek population. Athens fell, Missilonghi was besieged, and Europe, sickening at the sights and sounds of devastation in Morea, determined to interfere. The combined squadrons of Great Britain, France, and Russia met at Navarino, to make what has since become quite a popular method of dealing with Turkey, a naval demonstration. Ibrahim misunderstood the situation, and fired on a British boat, instead of advising the Sultan to make a number of promises he never would keep, and thus rid himself of those who interfered with his methods of government. This, of course, was too much; a battle ensued, after which there was no more Turkish fleet. Greece thereupon became independent. As was only natural, there were no more high offices in the Ottoman Empire filled by Phanariots after Greece became an independent kingdom, and many of those patricians emigrated. This and other matters had a serious effect on Greek commerce, especially the carrying trade in the Levant, which has since passed into other hands. But the Hellenic culture has not fallen off, and the Greeks are probably among the best educated and most intelligent of the Sultan's subjects. There were a number of Greeks admitted into the Army under the regime of the Young Turks, and many of these took part in this Balkan war. I have heard that all work requiring skill and intelligence was left to them, that they formed the best engineers, pioneers, and were trusted as gunners rather than the simple souls who were hurried to the front from their Anatolian farms. The Greeks are full of music too; you may hear their quaint, pathetic songs of an evening by the shores of the Bosphorus. To my mind they have a strange but attractive cadence. Some say that they are taken from the Italians, others that the Italians came here for them. I do not believe either version, but consider that these songs, like those of any other nation, are the natural expression of the soul of the people. My readers may judge for themselves, as I include some Greek songs in this work. Unfortunately, I have not been able to find a setting of the most interesting song I have ever heard in these parts, a song with a wistful beauty of its own, entirely spoilt by a travesty of it made by the Turks, who took it as their National Anthem or Hymn of Liberty--I forget which. All I know is that here, again, they had destroyed without rebuilding. [Illustration: musical notation, THALASSA.] [Illustration: musical notation, THALASSA.] 2. Den éhortasses akoma thalassa tosson kéro, apo ta kormia pou troi t'almyro sou to nero Thalassa t'almyro sou to néro, (_bis._) 3. Ossa vassana ki' an éhi pali o naftis den bori mia stighmi dihos ésséna tin zoï tou na hari Thalassa tin zoï tou na hari, (_bis._) [Illustration: musical notation, I YIFTOPOULA.] [Illustration: musical notation, I YIFTOPOULA.] 2. Me to hamoyélio ti ghlikia matia sou yiro sou skorpizis ti hara, Mon' yia mena, fos mou, i aghni kardhia sou mon' yia mena kor' ine psihra! REFRAIN. Ela, yiftopoula, na yiatrepsis m' ena mono sou ghliko fili, etc., etc. 3. Dies me pos yia sena ap' aghapi liono dies yia sena pos kardhioktipo Pes mou na elpizo, pes mia lexi mono, Yiftopoula, ki' ola ta xehno. REFRAIN. Ela, yiftopoula, na yiatrepsis m' ena mono sou ghliko fili, etc., etc. [Illustration: musical notation, TO TRELLOKORITSO.] [Illustration: musical notation, TO TRELLOKORITSO.] 2. Ti aôelôisia me ôianei hotan thymêthô san mouleges ôôs m' agaôas male naziarimo kai ta trella sou logia m' emaman phôs mou gia na chathô yiati den êxeura o dystychês ôôs êsoune zouliarimo. 2. Ti apelpissia mé piani otan thimitho san mouleyes pos m' agapas kalé naz[i)]ariko kè ta trela sou loy[i)]a m' ékaman fos mou y[i)]a na hatho y[i)]ati den ixevra o distihis pos issoune zoul[i)]ariko. Some fourteen years ago an ill-advised, excited section of the Hellenes forced their King to declare war on the Porte, and brought no great credit on themselves nor honour to their country's arms, for Greece was far from ready for such a struggle, and those in office knew it, but were powerless to stop the trouble. However, the war was well managed in this respect, that the leaders of the Army contrived to withdraw from it without any serious disaster; no guns were lost, and out of the 50,000 Greeks pitted against 150,000 Turks, only 400 were killed and 1800 wounded, which is quite good management considering the difficulties of the manoeuvring in such very unusual circumstances. During those days when the Greeks of Constantinople were rejoicing over the defeat of their old enemy, over the victory of the Allies, a great sorrow cast its shadow upon the Phanar and the members of the Orthodox Church. Death took His Holiness Joachim III, OEcumenical Patriarch of Greek Orthodoxy in Constantinople, suddenly from amidst his devoted flock. He died at four o'clock in the afternoon of November 26th, and with him passed away one of the greatest of many great men who have held the high office of Patriarch here in the City of Constantine. When Constantine the Great became a Christian, and made Constantinople his capital and residence, he was guided in his doings by the Patriarch of the time, and as that dignitary's seat, and to the "greater glory of God," the Cathedral Church of St. Sophia arose on the narrowing tongue of land between the Sea of Marmora and the Golden Horn. Among the great predecessors of His Holiness Joachim III was St. John Chrysostom, "the Golden Mouth," whose fearless zeal brought him into conflict with Empress Eudoxia, wife of Arcadius. Though St. John Chrysostom died in exile, his body was brought back to the scene of his former activity and met with all the solemn pomp of funeral rites, which Theodosius II attended as chief mourner, and in expiation of his guilty parents' sin in banishing the saint. Other strong men followed, and piloted the Church over the deep, troubled waters of Byzantine politics, defending their flock against an Emperor's whim, or shielding it from the subtle influences of heresy. When Constantinople fell before the sword of Othman, in 1453, the Cross vanished from the dome of St. Sophia, for Mohammed the Conqueror made that church his mosque; but he was too great not to respect the faith of others. The Greek remnant of the population had gathered together when sufficiently assured of safety to life and liberty, and of the free use of their religion. Then, only a fortnight or so after the conquest of the City, and long before the sights and signs of the desolation there wrought had been removed, a singular scene was witnessed by those who crowded the narrow streets. The Sultan held an investiture on old Byzantine lines. With all the pomp and traditional splendour of the ceremony, he invested Gennodius with the office of Patriarch. With his own hands the Conqueror delivered into the hands of Gennodius the crozier, or pastoral staff, the symbol of his high office. His Holiness was then conducted to the gate of the Seraglio, presented with a richly caparisoned horse, and led by viziers and pashas to the palace allotted to him as residence. [Illustration: At the Phanar Mourning Greeks at the Gate of the Patriarchate.] During all the centuries of Turkish rule the office of Patriarch of Constantinople was no easy one, and difficulties became even greater as the younger nations grew up around Turkey in Europe, clamouring for freedom, insisting on their racial rights; those younger nations which during the last few weeks have overrun the vilayets, and are now hammering at the outer defences of Constantinople. So His Holiness Joachim III's term of office was one of everlasting difficulties, his path beset by endless, varied troubles. But happily he was fully endowed to cope with all the troubles that crowded in upon him. A man of striking personality, strong character, and just in all his doings, he was respected by the Power in whose midst he held his "Imperium in Imperio" among the hearts of men; he was beloved by the masses of the people who follow the teachings of Greek Orthodoxy. The late Patriarch's liberal training, his wide outlook on life, and his deep insight into the vexed political questions of his time have helped him through the rapids of racial, nationalist ambitions here in the City of Constantine the Great. Joachim III has held the high office of Patriarch on several occasions with now and then a hiatus. He was Patriarch under Abdul Hamid's reign of Absolutism, and served his flock so well that when the constitution was granted and he was recalled as shepherd of the Orthodox Greek Church, he was acclaimed with intense enthusiasm. Then came the troublous times of strife caused by successive Young Turk cabinets. But Joachim III was master of the situation, and proved it by his skilful handling of the Greek National Assembly at the Phanar, which prevented very serious consequences. Towards the end of his long, eventful life, some eighty years or more, Joachim III had the satisfaction of seeing the turbulent waters of strife which had raged round his See during all his years of office subside, calm down, and so he died in peace. No doubt he longed to see the Cross replace the Crescent on St. Sophia, yearned to complete the Mass interrupted by the conquering Osmanli at that Feast of Pentecost in May, 1453. But he has passed away with the knowledge that those young Christian nations have felt and proved their strength. They are without the gates even now, as Joachim III is being carried to his rest. Nevertheless the enemy of his faith, the Turk, preserved order and acted as escort to His Holiness Joachim III on his last journey. [Illustration: FUNERAL OF AN ARMENIAN ARCHBISHOP The face of the corpse is uncovered, some say in order to convince the populace that the dignitary is really dead, not imprisoned; others contend that this custom dates from a Turkish police ordinance, during the Greek risings, when arms were often smuggled into the towns in coffins.] On Sunday, December 1st, a great multitude assembled about the Phanar and crowded the streets leading to it, for the Patriarch was buried that day. The crowd was mostly composed of Greeks, members of the Church of which Joachim III was the spiritual head, and Turkish soldiers and police kept the turbulent crowd in its place without violence, with great courtesy in fact, despite the abuse hurled at them. Guards of honour from the Russian warships lined the aisles of the Cathedral Church, another from the Roumanian warship, the entrance to the Phanar. Preceded by Turkish cavalry His Holiness was borne on his throne to the waterside and there placed on a steamer which carried him down the Golden Horn, round Seraglio Point, and out to Psamatia; there the remains were landed again, and escorted by Turkish soldiery and Armenian priests, the solemn procession moved through the thronged streets towards Yedi Koulé, where stand the ruins of the Golden Gate, through which conquering Byzantine Emperors were wont to make their triumphant entry. Under the shadow of the strong towers whence Yedi Koulé derives its name, the procession moved out beyond the walls which Theodosius II built to safeguard this most eastern stronghold of Western civilization against the Asiatic enemies who surged up against these strong defences in successive waves, till at last they fell before the sword of Othman. But a short way beyond the old walls of Constantinople stands the Monastery of Balukli, the last resting-place of a long line of Patriarchs. Joachim III had requested that he should be buried on Mount Athos, whither he went for peace in monastic seclusion from time to time, a place he loved. But the Greek ecclesiastical authorities decided to please the populace by disregarding the Patriarch's wish, and so he will not rest at Balukli, the Lourdes of the Orthodox Church. Pilgrims from afar come to worship here and seek healing in the wonder-working waters of the well at Balukli. And hither His Holiness Joachim III has been escorted by the enemies of his creed and of his people; while Turkish soldiers showed this last honour to the head of a Church whose members have long been subjects of the Porte, Greek armies have marched victorious over the plains of Thessaly and are occupying Turkish towns and provinces. Yet it was the courteous sons of Othman who solemnly, reverently escorted Joachim III to the grave. But before he died His Holiness Joachim III had watched the victorious march of the Hellenes towards Constantinople; those few thronged weeks of warfare brightened the last days of the great Patriarch, though his kind heart must have bled for the many sacrifices Bellona demanded of the Allies, and of the enemies of his faith. Very different from the last campaign of 1898 was this victorious progress of the Hellenes. Short and sharp it was; war was declared on Turkey on October 17th, on the following day the Greek fleet had put to sea and the army of the Hellenes, led by the Crown Prince, had invaded Turkey and occupied Elassona. Three days later the Greek fleet seized Lemnos, an island in the Ægean Sea. Fighting their way fiercely against formidable resistance, the Hellenes on land gained ground towards Janina, captured Veria and Thasos, and after a check at Florina, marched towards Saloniki. The Greek left column captured Prevesa as the Servians took Gostivar on November 3rd, the right column entered Saloniki five days later. From here the Greeks proceeded with the conquest of other islands in the Ægean, till all but a few are in their possession, and the Greek fleet blocks the southern exit of the Dardanelles. All this had happened before His Holiness Joachim III was called away; pity that peace had not been restored before Osmanli troops escorted him from the Phanar, down the Golden Horn, to his last resting-place of Balukli. There is a quaint legend attached to the Monastery of Balukli. It is said that while the troops of Mohammed the Conqueror were making their last assault on the walls of Constantinople, the monks of Balukli were engaged in frying fish. The City fell and the monks fled before the fish were quite fried, so these jumped out of the frying-pan back into the water. The legend goes on to aver that when Christian troops retake Constantinople those fish will leave their native element and return to the frying-pan. Life must hold endless possibilities for those who can believe such legends as this one. CHAPTER XVI Peoples of the Balkans--The migration of nations--The Illyrians--The Thracians and Scythians--Hippocrates and Galenus--The habits of the Scythians--The origin of the Hellenes--The arrival of the Macedonians--Philip of Macedonia and Alexander the Great--The power of Rome--The Goths and Theodosius--The advent of Slavs and Mongolians--The Hungarians, Petshenegs, and Vlachs--Balkan people in the fourteenth century--The Armenians: their early history--Tiridales, King of the Armenians--Turkish conquest of Persia--Armenia and the Greek Orthodox Church--The Kurds and Armenians--The Georgians--Attempt to arouse Armenia--Nihilism in Armenia--Massacre of Armenians--Abdul Hamid and the Armenian question--Disastrous Armenian rising--Future of the Armenians--The Albanians and their language--Other names for the Albanians--Albanian characteristics--Albania demands autonomy--The future of Albania--The Vlachs: their language and habits--King Milutin's effort to settle them. In no other quarter of the globe are you likely to meet such a medley of human races as in the Balkan Peninsula, the south-east corner of Asia perhaps excepted. Certainly nowhere else in Europe has there been such constant shifting of a population, such risings and wanings of divers factors in history, such a coming and going of migrant mortals. Before the gods of ancient Hellas entered on their genial despotism, before man had become conscious of his own importance, and therefore recorded his doings and sayings, great forces were labouring in the vast swamps and forests of Central Europe and put forth one after another races of human beings who, emerging from darkness, sought the light and wandered towards the midday sun. This subconscious movement led swarm on swarm of migrants across the great rivers of Europe, over the mountain-passes, into the genial southern plains, and accounted for the settlement of one race after another in the peninsulas of Europe that stand out into the warm waters of the Mediterranean Sea. More than any other, the Balkan Peninsula was sought by these wanderers. The aboriginal race in this part of Europe were the Illyrians, 'tis said; but little is known of them and they have left few traces--a word or two of their speech in the mixed language of the present-day Albanians. More definite records remain of later races, before whom the Illyrians were forced to make way. These also came from the north and belonged to the dolichocephalic Aryans, who peopled Italy and the Balkan Peninsula, worked out their destiny, and were subject to the same treatment they had meted out to those whom they had found in possession and displaced. Of the peoples who stand recorded in ancient history the Thracians and Scythians were the most prominent. The former are said to have occupied the districts south of the lower Danube, the latter lived on that river's northern bank. Herodotus suggests that the Thracians were a people of some importance, occupying a large tract of country, and describes them as a tall, strong race, blue-eyed and fair-haired, in appearance like the ancient Teutons. They were sufficiently interesting to cause historians of old to give details of their doings, to mention several of their more important tribes, such as the Triballi, Dardani, Agathyrsen, and those who were found in Asia, Phrygians, Lydians, Moesians, and above all the Trojans. The Dacians were another tribe, and became more prominent as they entered into authenticated history under their King Decebalus, who defeated the Emperor Domitian and forced Imperial Rome to pay tribute to him. [Illustration: THE COAST OF GREECE Cloud shadows chasing each other over the rocky promontories of Hellas, whose sons have marched north towards Constantinople.] The Scythians are less known, and some confusion about them existed among ancient historians. Herodotus mentions two peoples of that name; they came into collision with each other in Southern Russia, near the Ural Mountains, the passes of which were the gates of Europe for the invading Mongols and other non-Aryan races. Galenus describes his Scythians as Mongols, Hippocrates gives them all the attributes of Teutons, and recent researches tend to show that Galenus mistook the Scythians he may have seen or heard of, and that Hippocrates was nearer the truth about them. The data given by antiquarians so far suggest that the Scythians were a long-headed race, and had many customs peculiar to the ancient Teutons; they venerated the god of war in the form of a sword, they sought auguries in the interlacing boughs of trees, their legends bore some resemblance to the saga of the Norse-folk, and they indulged in the playful habit of using the skulls of vanquished enemies as drinking-vessels. It would seem that the Scythians came from the country now known as Silesia and were probably displaced by the Teutons. Those who made this people their special study as did worthy Pomponius Mela, maintain that the Parthians were of the same race, had the same habits, spoke the same speech, and moreover had much the same fashions in dress. The Scythians were clothed _à l'Allemande_ of the period, simply and chastely in shirt and trousers, the latter considered an enormity by earlier Roman historians, who possibly found that the trouser crease of their day was as little in accord with artistic tradition as that of the present day. One fact emerges from all the profound utterances of authorities on the subject, namely, that the Scythians were not of Mongolian extraction, and should under no circumstances be identified with the Huns. I have already mentioned the Illyrians, and have got no further in the matter of their descent than have any of the recognized authorities on that important subject. What information does exist about this people is chiefly negative; for instance, that they did not belong to the Indo-German race, but to an older family which after a century or two of genteel poverty went under before the pushing young Aryans. There appears to be a great deal of doubt as to the date when the Greeks or Hellenes arrived upon the scene in the Balkan Peninsula. Some say that they were the first arrivals, born there, in fact; others that they came wandering down from the north in relays, that the overflowing fount of humans in Northern Europe poured wave after wave of _ces gens là_ over Southern Europe. Be that as it may, it seems nevertheless probable that the Hellenes were akin to the Thracians and had many attributes in common with them. There are the crude paintings still extant, showing Hellenes of the sixth century B.C., and these of men fair-haired and blue-eyed; again, leaving the artistic for the scientific standpoint--the ancients of Hellas were dolichocephalic. I have followed the fortunes of the Hellenes in another chapter, and must now confine myself to generalities about the Balkan people of all ages. The people of Hellas were very happy according to all accounts; their clothing was inconspicuous, their wants few, and they enjoyed a peculiarly pleasant _entente_ with the gods and goddesses whom they evoked out of their own imagination, as well as from different phenomena which Nature produces to foster our taste for the supernatural. They must have been a thoroughly lovable, imaginative, unpractical collection of philosophers, richly endowed with all the necessaries of life, such as wives, children, servants, etc.; in fact, everything to make life worth living and philosophizing easy. How the times have changed since then! They changed suddenly, it appears, for ancient Hellas, for their cousins, as they considered themselves, the Macedonians, felt the need for expansion, "Tatendrang" if they had only known it, and therefore broke in upon the daydreams of the dwellers in Arcadia. Philip of Macedonia led his army against the Hellenes, the allied Thebans and Athenians, defeated them at Cheironeia in 338 B.C., and forced them to acknowledge his dominion over them. His son, Alexander the Great, vanquished the Thracians, defeated the Thebans, who had revolted against his rule, and prepared for his victorious march through Asia Minor. The Hellenes made many an effort to throw off the Macedonian yoke, but failed, and exchanged it for that of Rome, after the last Macedonian King had been defeated by the Romans at Pydna in 168 B.C. Macedonia was divided up into four provinces, and was incorporated with the Roman Empire in 146 B.C. Greece became the province of Achaia. The northern Balkan countries retained their independence until near the end of the first century B.C., when, by degrees, Rome conquered all the people south of the Danube, the Moesii, Raetii, and Vindelicei, their lands forming the Roman provinces of Raetia and Noricum. It is usual to include Roumania among the Balkan States, though that kingdom does not consider itself one of them. Trajan crossed the Danube and entered what is now Roumania, adding it to the Roman Empire as Dacia Trajana in A.D. 106. Some hundred and fifty years later another people came wandering down from the north, penetrating as far as the Danube, to the great discomfiture of Dacia, the Goths, and they forced Emperor Aurelian to remove his army and colonies to southward and westward, founding a new colony, Dacia Aureliana. The Goths in their turn, hard pressed by the wild hordes of nomad Mongolians, the Huns, abandoned the province of Dacia Trajana, where they had been settled for a century, and crossed the Danube, invaded Thrace, defeated the Emperor Valens at Adrianople, and made themselves peculiarly obnoxious to the peaceful people of the Eastern Empire, while the Huns continued their raid westward. The Goths in the meanwhile plundered right and left in Thrace unchecked, because they had filled the hearts of the Roman legionaries with fear, so that none would meet them in battle again. That wise Emperor, Theodosius I, knew how to manage them, even made them useful as allies, and contrived to make the Balkan countries too uncomfortable for them. So the Goths went elsewhere, and as Gepidi occupied parts of Transylvania, vacated by the Huns on the death of Attila, their King. About this time the first Slavs made their appearance. It seems that they had settled for a while in Wallachia, whither they had wandered from Southern Russia. Their language proclaimed them akin to the Indo-German race, but there is reason to suppose that they had a strong admixture of the Mongolian in them; they proved to be brachy-instead of dolichocephalic. As the Huns had shown to the Eastern races the gateway into Europe, other Mongolians streamed in after them, so we find the Avari settling in Transylvania, and the Bulgars following them. Of these latter more anon. About four centuries after the first appearance of the Bulgarians, some distant relatives of theirs forced their way into Europe, the Hungarians. It appears that they confined themselves to the left bank of the Danube, moving westward till they finally settled in Hungary; other Ugric races followed them, the Petshenegs, and the Cumanians, but these too kept to the northern bank of the great river. Their descendants may still be found in parts of Hungary. An entirely different people made its appearance shortly before the arrival of the Petshenegs, the Vlachs, a race of nomads of whom no one knows whence they came; they wander about the Balkan peninsula still, for during all these centuries no one has managed to induce them all to settle down permanently. From the tenth century till the fourteenth the Balkan peoples, varied as they were, and are still, settled down to a more or less ordered existence, developing into nations, waging war against others, and behaving in much the same manner as they do to-day. I have treated them separately elsewhere. A great change came with the fourteenth century, when yet another race came out of Asia, a people related to the Magyars and the Bulgars, but already mixed with various other elements, occupying a different intellectual plane, and moved by aspirations at variance with the ambitions of the people they visited, the Turks. I have told how the Turks overran Eastern Europe in another part of this book, how they brought down the Empire of Byzant, crushed the smaller nations, and kept them in submission until they grew, like the seed, out of obscurity into light, insisted on their separate nationalities, and finally went to war with their oppressors, moving like the spirit of revenge, striking swiftly and surely till their guns thundered insistently on the outer defences of Constantinople, at the lines of Chatalja. Another people which plays an important part in that complex body, the Ottoman Empire, is the Armenian race. Their history is somewhat obscure, as they have never shown any talent for self-government, and, consequently, hold few records which throw any light on their past. They are most respectably connected, claiming descent from Japheth. Mt. Ararat, where the ark eventually landed, is in the northern part of the territory which they consider their country, and Armenians are still to be found among the valleys at the foot of that historic eminence. The Armenian name for their great ancestor is Haik; they call themselves after him, and their land Haiasdan. In ancient days they lived within fluctuating frontiers, under several dynasties, probably a primitive race of shepherds, until Alexander the Great passed through their country in 328 B.C. and brought them into contact with the great world. After Alexander's fleeting visit they broke up into several small states, and were hardly conscious of political life; they certainly formed no political entity. Thus they were easily absorbed into the Roman Empire, under Lucullus and Pompey, what time those great men passed through Armenia on their campaigns against the Tigranes. They were only nominally under Roman domination, actually they were a prey to any despot who arose out of the prevailing anarchy to call himself King and establish some semblance of order. One of those monarchs marked the temporary union of those sons of Japheth by a massacre of Romans. The gradual rise of Persian power affected Haiasdan, which was absorbed by Persian Shahs of the Sassanid dynasty, one of whom defeated the Emperor Valerian. But Diocletian broke Persian rule in Armenia, and set up Tiridales as King over its people. This King looked with disfavour upon Christianity, which had recently come to the people of Armenia, and imprisoned its apostle, St. Gregory the Illuminator, in a dry well for the space of fourteen years, during which protracted period the light dawned upon Tiridales, and he too became converted. The Persians became sufficiently powerful to take Armenia away from the Eastern Empire in the reign of Theodosius II, and appointed native governors over their new province, Persarmenia. When Islam spread over Asia Minor, Armenia was torn in pieces during the wars between that force and the Emperor of Byzant, then became united under the dynasty of one Ruben, and by alliances with the encroaching Mongols, with the Crusaders, and Imperial Byzant, contrived to maintain some semblance of independence. But fate overtook this unhappy people when Ghevout was King over them, and had to abandon the struggle against the might of Islam, ending his days as exile in Paris towards the end of the fourteenth century. Ever since then clouds of troubles have hung heavily over the Armenians, bursting in furious storms of Moslem fanaticism, drenching the land with the blood of Christians, for those children of Japheth never could unite for purposes of self-preservation, and have therefore been made to suffer whenever the Ottoman arms or policy met with ill-success in other parts of the Turkish Empire. Like the sons of Shem these descendants of Japheth are most tenacious of their faith, their speech, written in Cyrillic script, and their ancient customs, but they have shown little taste for _les belles lettres_, and have added little to the world's store of literature. Again, like the Jews, they have a great gift for commerce and affairs of state; several Armenians rose to high estate in the Byzantine Empire, witness Leo V, one of the great Emperors of the East. The Armenians were never in complete sympathy with the Greek Orthodox Church, and separated from it early in the history of the Greek Empire; their country was so far removed from the influence of Constantinople, and linguistic difficulties widened the breach caused by the failure of the delegates from the Armenian communities in attending the Councils of the Eastern Church. In many matters of ritual and observance the divergence became more marked, and as the Armenians laid more stress on retaining these than on combined action against their Moslem rulers and the enemies of the Christian faith, subsequent efforts at reconciliation have proved abortive. The Armenians, through their lack of political solidarity, have always been exposed to aggression from the fierce tribes beyond their elastic frontiers, and of these the Kurds were the most formidable. The Kurds are a race of Iranian extraction, speaking a Persian dialect, and, whether settled on the lands of other races, or wandering at large in them as nomads, have ever proved troublesome as neighbours. The Armenians thought to protect themselves by entering into an understanding with these people, and by putting themselves under the protection of the Kurds, chiefly in the eastern provinces of the district inhabited by the sons of Japheth. The Kurds had their own notions of protection, which they expressed by frequent robbery and pillage, varied by an occasional massacre. The Turkish authorities, who had but a feeble hold over the Kurds, seldom interfered in the interests of Christian subjects; moreover, these latter were seldom at one, as instanced by the constant friction between the Armenians and the Georgians whose ancient Church was influenced by Rome in the time of the Crusaders, and has in recent years been almost entirely absorbed into the fold of the Roman Catholic Church. When Peter the Great ruled over Russia, and again during the reign of Catherine II, attempts were made, chiefly through external agencies, to arouse nationalist aspirations among the Armenians. A college was opened in Paris, and endeavoured to consolidate Armenian interests and to make the voice of this people heard and considered in Constantinople. But the Turks were not alarmed at this, as they well knew the Armenian incapacity for concerted action, and had no reason to think an understanding between them and the Phanar a likely event. So enthusiasm subsided, and the Armenians, in spite of the peculiar protection afforded them by the Kurds, and the arbitrary methods of Turkish tax-gatherers, lived at peace with the Porte and prospered greatly. Though the last Russo-Turkish war raised no particular enthusiasm among the Armenians, the Turks thought fit to take precautions against them, and resorted to massacres, so that the treaty-makers of S. Stefano insisted on the insertion of a clause safeguarding Armenian interests against the reprisals of Kurds and Circassians. A number of Armenians had settled in Russia, others belonged to those who lived in that part of their former country long since annexed by Russia, and these people took kindly to nihilism, forming secret societies to foster their ambitions and make propaganda. Secret societies, whatever their object, have always been a terror to the Porte, so Turkish feeling towards the Armenians underwent a change. The Turks, themselves afraid of massacre at the hands of the Armenians, met any such possibility by massacring Armenians, and thus commenced that series of atrocities which induced the Great Powers of Europe to intervene. This made the situation worse: Musa Bey, the notorious bandit chief, was indeed summoned to Constantinople to answer for his share in the lurid transactions, was tried before a Turkish Court, which found him guiltless of all blame, and eventually acquitted, even commended him for his behaviour. Thereupon Armenian Churches were desecrated as suspected of being secret armouries, and a small massacre, only some fifteen killed, attended this exhibition of Turkish policy. The Armenian Patriarch, Ashikian, lodged a protest with the Porte in 1890, and three years later the college of Marsovan was burnt amidst scenes of horror. Four years later a massacre on a large scale was arranged and executed; nine hundred Armenians of the mountainous Sasun district were murdered, because the tax-gatherers had so far been unable to penetrate into that almost inaccessible region. The Armenians pointed out that if they were protected from the Kurds a tax-collector's visit might be worth the while, as matters stood the Kurds had left nothing taxable. By this time the Armenian problem had become acute, and Abdul Hamid could think of no other method of solving it than by exterminating the people who had provoked it by their mere existence. So massacres became a recognized feature of the Armenian question, even those who lived in Constantinople were not spared, the capital and other towns, Erzeroum, Diabekr, Bitlis, all contributing, until the number of victims to this system of statecraft amounted to about twenty-five thousand. To these must be added many who escaped the sword to perish from cold, hunger, and exposure in the following winter. At last the Armenians became exasperated, and decided on retaliation. In the spring of the following year, 1896, Armenians attacked and exterminated several small Turkish garrisons. They were incited to fresh endeavours by the false hopes raised by several European Powers, and arranged a _coup de main_ for the 26th of August. A secret society, calling itself Dashnaktsutian, made a raid on the Ottoman Bank of Constantinople at midday. The conspiracy must have been well known by the Sultan's secret police, for it failed completely, and all those who took part in this desperate venture were killed. A counter demonstration had been arranged by the Government, for that very afternoon Lazes and Kurds were let loose in the Armenian quarters of Pera and Galata, Haskeui and Kum Kapu; their victims numbered some six thousand killed. The Armenian plot was meant to impress the Western Powers, and they were duly impressed--but nothing else happened. There seems no likelihood of the Armenians ever realizing their nationalist ambitions; they are scattered so widely over the Ottoman Empire, and for that reason alone cannot forgather for concerted action, as the Bulgarians and others who live in closer community have succeeded in doing. History has shown that even when they did cluster together in their more or less definite geographical limits, they lacked solidarity, so the only hope for them is in individual effort, by which many have risen to importance. With the gradual weakening of Ottoman rule, of late precipitate, the chances are that the Armenians, with their great capacity for business, their talent for affairs, and their tenacity, will play a leading part in Eastern Europe and Asia Minor, now that they have risen above their Kurd oppressors and have out-distanced their Moslem masters. Another distinct nationality plays a prominent part in the political life of the Turkish Empire--the Albanians. The learned have spent much time in discovering their origin, have written many books about them, and have come to no very definite results after all. Some say they are descendants of the Illyrians, the original inhabitants of the Western Peloponese, and try to prove their theory by philology. A most unreliable guide to the discovery of a nation's antecedents, as proved by the Bulgarians who, though not originally a Slav race, yet speak a Slav language. In the case of the Albanians, philology is even more misleading, and arrives at less definite results, for very few traces are left of that forgotten tongue, Illyrian, in the language spoken by the Albanians, a mixture of Slav, Roumanian, Turkish, and modern Greek, according to G. Meyer, who speaks with authority. Another hypothesis is that the Albanians are derived from the ancient Thracians, who were dispossessed of their country by successive waves of immigrants, and took to the mountains. This theory must also be taken with reserve, as so many different races--Greeks and Latins, Slavs and Goths--have passed this way and left their impress. The Albanians themselves will tell you that they are Skipetari, eaglets, the sons of the eagle, and as they evidently wish to be considered offspring of that bird of prey, and lay claim to some of its alleged virtues, it is best to humour them, though the Turks may call them Arnouts, and the Slavs describe them as Arbanasi. Popular opinion confines this people to the mountains of Albania, where they lead a life of untrammelled feudalism; the latter suggestion is more or less correct, the former not so. There are probably about three hundred thousand Albanians in the Balkan countries, and of these about one hundred thousand inhabit the Peloponese peninsula. They are to be found in greatest numbers among the mountains of the district named after them, but many live in Greece, in fact, the population of the eastern and central parts of that kingdom is largely Albanian. The Albanians certainly possess one virtue ascribed to the eagle--they are brave, and have shown their prowess on many occasions, notably during the wars of Greek independence. Those who know them describe them as pleasant company, courteous and hospitable, but easily roused to anger, obstinate and sensitive. This opinion is probably held by the Turks, who have never succeeded in enforcing their peculiar methods of government on these free sons of the mountains. Though the Albanians are often divided among themselves, they invariably combine against an enemy from outside, be he pasha or tax-collector, and have thus been able to defy all attempts to bring their country under some semblance of modern government, even of the Turkish variety. When left to themselves they find plenty of occupation in blood feuds, inter-clan fighting, or an occasional raid across the loosely defined border. The causes which have led Slavs of the same race to separate and occupy hostile camps do not affect Albanian unity on questions concerning their nationality. They are divided into two distinct sections, the Geks and the Tosks, and are again divided by three divergent creeds, Islam, to which the majority of Albanians belong, Greek Orthodoxy, which claims about two-tenths of them, and another tenth adhering to the Church of Rome. Yet they combine, and have done so quite recently, thanks to the troubles attending the passing of Ottoman rule from provinces that adjoin their country. The Albanians have combined to some purpose, have declared themselves autonomous, were ready with a provincial government, and now invite their neighbours to leave them to manage their own affairs in their own way. This, by the by, they have always contrived to do in face of all efforts to bring them into line with modern ideas. Little is known of Albania's past history, though individual Albanians have helped to make history for other nations; the descendant of an Albanian soldier of the Ottoman Empire rules over Egypt. But history has been in the making for the last month or so, and possibly, nay, probably, Albania is about to enter the comity of nations, even as Servia, Bulgaria, and other former provinces of the Osmanli have done. There is no reason to suppose that Albania will fail where others have succeeded. No doubt their habits are not such as to render government, according to modern notions, an easy matter, but the same was possibly said of the Highland clansmen some centuries ago, yet these make excellent law-abiding citizens. Then the Albanians are a highly intelligent race, and would use their gifts to other purpose than clan feuds when once they see an opportunity of taking part in the world's work on a different footing from that to which Turkish rule restricted them. After all, Servia's chances seemed poor, no outlet to the sea, cramped by neighbours none too friendly, yet that country has risen out of chaos, out of slavery and obscurity, to hasten the fall of the Ottoman Empire, and to open out fresh fields for its own economic expansion. Even the ingrained feudalism of the Albanians will vanish under the modernizing influence of roads and railways, and their picturesqueness fade under the glamour of successful commercial enterprise. No doubt those days are yet some distance off when peace and prosperity will reign over the Balkan Peninsula, but even the Albanians, individually very capable of perceiving where advantage lies, will be brought into the ordered state of affairs so dear to those kind neighbours, the Great Powers. However, as the change is not likely to be rapid, Europe will have to make up its mind to a good deal more turmoil before Albania ceases to cause trouble in the Balkans. [Illustration: ANATOLI HISSAR The Castle of Asia, built by Sultan Mohammed I. Here Mohammed II, the Conqueror, sat and watched the growth of Roumeli Hissar, the Castle of Europe, in 1451.] Yet another people are to be found in the Turkish provinces of Europe, wandering about with their herds among the divers nations who have settled there, but not of them. These are the Vlachs, but they have many other designations, for the Greeks are pleased to call them Kambisi (from _kampos_), Karaguli or Karaguni (black coats), Vlachopimeni, or Arvanitovlachi; in Albania they are called Cobani, in Macedonia Cobani, and by the Bulgars Vlasi, a name under which they stand recorded on mediæval Servian monuments. The papers generally speak of them as Koutzo-Vlachs. "Koutzo" means halting, lame, though the description seems inaccurate, for they are confirmed nomads, and cover a deal of ground during the year. They are chiefly shepherds, and they wander about Macedonia, Thessaly, and Thrace in search of pasture for their black-coated sheep, from which derives the nickname Crnovunçi, given them by the Serbs. Others, again, act as carriers in those districts unopened as yet by railways, leading strings of ponies over the defiles that separated Servia and Bulgaria from the Turkish provinces until recent days. They seem to be of Roumanian origin, and speak a language akin to that of Roumania, which claims to protect them, and of their history little is known. They have always been wanderers, and never showed any inclination towards a settled existence. It has been tried on them by King Milutin of Servia in the beginning of the fourteenth century, and records of that time make mention of several Vlack villages by the southern banks of the Danube. When the Turks conquered Servia these nomads vanished from their settlements, and no one knows whither they went. It is probable that they resumed their migratory habits in Macedonia and Thessaly, not visiting Servia again until comparatively recent times, when the Russo-Serb war broke out in 1876. Up to this date they are said to have sojourned in Bulgaria, whither, it is stated, they wandered from Epirus and Thessaly, to escape from Ali Pasha's heavy hand. A few, a very few, settled in Macedonia, about Monastir, Krushevo, and at the foot of Olympus. The Vlachs appear to be a pleasant, harmless people, and absolutely indifferent to the troubles which have so long agitated the peoples of the Balkans. Now that the Balkan provinces of Turkey, where the Vlachs have wandered for centuries, are passing into other hands, the status of this people is becoming a matter of interest. As the Balkan nations, Serbs, Bulgars, and Greeks are insisting so fiercely on their respective nationalities, Roumania has thought fit to espouse the cause of the Vlachs. No doubt this intention is born of a sincere desire for the welfare of those whom the Roumanians consider kinsmen, but the idea is of political value in that it gives a reason for the modern tendency of claiming compensation, an innovation so forcibly introduced by the arrival of the S.M.S. "Panther" off Agadir. It will be interesting to note to what extent the wandering Vlachs will benefit by the protection of Roumania, and what they themselves think of it. Was it to safeguard their interests that Roumania sent its one and only sea-going warship to swell the international fleet in the Golden Horn while the Turkish Empire in Europe was falling to pieces? I have heard the absence of a Chinese man-of-war commented on during my recent stay in Constantinople. CHAPTER XVII The arrival of the Slavs and their descent--The appearance of the Serbs--Servia, before the arrival of the Serbs--The primitive Serbs--Serbs and Bulgarians in early days--Stephen Dobroslav and his son Michael--The Serb dynasty of Nemanya--Stephen Dushan and Urosh--Knjes Lazar marches against the Turks--The battle of Kossovo--The death of Knjes Lazar--Vuk Brankoviç and George, his son--Servia subjected by Mohammed II--Servia a Turkish province--Semendria--Golubaç and the Via Trajana--The Peace of Passarowitz--Serbs help Turkey--Kara George--The Treaty of Bucharest--Milosh Obrenoviç--The stern rule of Milosh Obrenoviç--Michael Obrenoviç makes way to Alexander Karageorgeviç--Milosh Obrenoviç recalled--Michael III murdered at Belgrade--King Milan--King Milan resigns--Peter I, Karageorgeviç--Servia's war preparations--The Servian Army--The causes of the war--The Montenegrins--Montenegro declares war--The opening of hostilities--The progress of the Serbs--Capture of Monastir and Ochrida--The Serbs march from Ochrida to Alessio--Occupation of Macedonia--Turkish optimism--Alleged Servian atrocities--The credit of the Servian Army. In those dark ages preceding the fall of the Western Roman Empire, Central Europe was seething with migrant nations dimly desirous of settling in some more favoured regions than the vast plains and dense forests whence they came. Among the divers races thus impelled were the Slavs. They came from what is now Southern Russia, from the banks of the Dnyepr, and penetrated far into the German Empire of the present day; traces of them have been found in Hanover, colonies of Slavs still live in that marshy part of Prussia called the "Lausitz," and the people of East Prussia itself have a strong admixture of that non-Teuton race. The Slavs are said to be descended from the ancient Scythians, by some mistakenly held to have been Mongolians, but it is unlikely that they kept their racial purity before they set out on their wanderings, and were probably much mixed with Tartars and other Asiatics who had swarmed over their pastures and hunting-grounds. The Hungarians, breaking into Europe along the left bank of the Danube, then settling in Hungary, drove a wedge in between the Slavs, separating them into two masses, which by environment and by mixing with other races gradually developed into distinctive nationalities. Systematic colonization by the Teutons pressed the northern Slavs back towards the east, the influx of the Bulgarians into Eastern Europe intercepted communication between the Slavs to north-eastward, and so helped to create that branch of the Slav race called the Serbs. They came in groups of families, so-called Zadrugs, out of the east, each group under its chief or Zupan, and settled in the country south of the Danube and westward of the Bulgarians some time in the beginning of the seventh century, and from that time called themselves Serbs. To the Romans this country was known as Moesia Superior; they built here strong castles to shelter flourishing cities, Semendria, for instance, with its serried ranks of square towers. But the Romans had to make way to successive waves of savage Huns, fierce Osthro-Goths, and Langobardi, who left a wilderness behind them where they had passed. Emperor Justinian reclaimed this land and added it to his Empire in the sixth century, but the good he did was undone by the Avari, who broke in from the east and left desolation in their wake. The Serbs followed the Avari and spread beyond the Save into Bosnia and Montenegro. The family groups united into clans, and each of these rendered service to an elected head sometimes called the Great Zupan or Kralj (King), or again Tsar (Emperor). The maintenance of discipline was no easy matter, and frequent dissensions among the turbulent tribesmen rendered the Serbs an easy prey to their stronger neighbours. Such was the state of affairs when Christianity was introduced in the eighth century and made the Serbs subject to the Eastern Empire. From time to time the neighbouring Bulgarians would snatch Servia from Byzant, but when Bulgaria's power was broken by the Emperor of the East, Servia again became subject to that Empire towards the end of the tenth century. Nearly a century later Servia produced a strong man, Stephen Dobroslav, called Boistlav by the Greeks; he forced the other Zupans into submission, assumed full power, and regained the independence of his country. His son Michael succeeded and was confirmed in the royal title of Kralj by Pope Gregory, whose aim was to lessen the power of Byzant. But herein he failed, for inner dissensions again broke out among the Serbs, the country was forced into the Eastern Empire again and suffered horribly until in 1165 another Stephen, Zupan of East Servia, reunited the scattered tribes. This Stephen founded the Nemanya dynasty and welded the broken tribes into a strong Empire. It was called that of Rassia, after its capital Rasha, now in the Sandjak Novibazar. The House of Nemanya flourished, the Empire of Rassia overflowed its frontiers, and under Stephen Dushan, 1331-1355, included Macedonia, Albania, Thessaly, Epirus, and Bulgaria. Stephen took the title of Tsar. But with his son Stephen Urosh, a weakling, the House of Nemanya died out. During the reign of this last Tsar dissensions had broken out again. Vukashin the Voivod rose in rebellion, rendering his country an easy prey to a new foe, more formidable than any the Serbs had yet encountered, the Turk. Leaving the Emperor of the East trembling in his purple throne-room, Amurath I was moving over Eastern Europe with a vast, well-disciplined army, conquering where he went. On the Amselfeld at Kossovo the Serbs first met in battle this enemy whom they have frequently met since, whom they met again so recently, perhaps for the last time in the history of Europe. In vain had the Greek Emperor appealed to Catholic Europe for assistance as the horns of the Crescent closed in upon Byzant. But the Serbs responded to the call. Reunited once more under Knjes Lazar, the chivalry of Servia, then of high repute, joined with Albanians, Bosnians, Bulgarians, to stem the full-flowing tide of Moslems. The armies met at Kossovo and battle raged with varying fortunes till evening, but the ranks of the Christian forces were thinning rapidly. Vukashin had fallen, Knjes Lazar was captured, and Amurath's son Bajazet, called by his men Yilderim (Lightning) struck swift and sure. Milosh Kabilovitch, a Servian knight, dashed out from among the hard-pressed chivalry and galloped forth as if deserting from the Servian ranks. He sought the presence of Amurath, alleging that he had important intelligence concerning the plans of the Allies. Kneeling before Amurath he suddenly leapt up and buried his dagger in the Sultan's heart. His astounding strength and agility enabled him to reach the place where he had left his horse, but here he fell under the sabres of the Janissaries. Amurath survived but to the close of the battle; his last act was to order the death of Lazar, the Servian King, who, standing in chains, regaled the dying eyes of his conqueror. Bajazet succeeded to the throne of Othman on the field of battle and divided Servia, forced to pay tribute to the Sultan and render military service, between Stephen, son of Lazar, and Vuk Brankoviç. The latter's son George, assisted by Hungarians, made a last effort to restore Servia's independence, and succeeded; the Peace of Szeggedin in 1444 gave Servia a few more years of freedom. But after fifteen years Mohammed the Conqueror marched through Servia and put an end to its existence as an independent kingdom for many centuries. The Osmanli forced the Serbs into subjection by all the cruelties their ingenuity in that direction suggested. Nearly all the best families were extirpated, though a few managed to escape to Hungary and others took refuge among the Black Mountains, whence their descendants came down the other day, only a few weeks ago, to meet their old enemy the Turk. The old nobility of Servia ceased to exist after Mohammed's conquest, and those who were allowed to remain in time embraced Islam, without doing which no one under Turkish rule in those days need expect justice or chance of promotion; of the common people two hundred thousand were sold into slavery by the Osmanli soldiery, and Servia became a Turkish province, a sandjak, a purely military _terrain d'occupation_. There are still some ancient monuments left standing which tell of the days when Servian chivalry hastened to the rescue of Constantinople and the Cross. Semendria, called Smederovo by the Serbs, once the residence of George Brankoviç, who fought for freedom by the side of Hunyadi Janos. This old Roman castle, strengthened by the Servian champion, Semendria, throws the reflections of its ruined battlements on to the waters of swift-flowing Danube. Some way further down the river yet another castle rises sheer above the banks where the mountains close in on either side to form the Pass of Kazan. The Danube narrows down to one-third its width on entering here, it swirls round the base of a steep promontory from which the broken towers of Golubaç seem to grow as out of the living rock. Crumbling walls and towers, turrets tottering on the brink of a precipice above the swirling waters, such is Golubaç, the castle built by Vuk Brancoviç to guard the entrance to the Pass of Kazan. An important place, too, in its time, for it controlled the road hewn by Trajan's orders out of the rock through this pass to the Iron Gates connecting Dacia Trajana with Moesia Superior. For centuries these monuments to Servia's former greatness stood awaiting the rise of Servia rejuvenated, Golubaç tumbling into ruins, the road it guarded falling into neglect, Semendria a stronghold of the Osmanli. But during these centuries the Serbs lost neither faith nor language nor hope of freedom. Songs and epics kept fresh the memories of former days, while the Serbs went about their daily business, tilling the soil, watching their herds of swine, living in close family union despite the storms that tore over their land as the hosts of Othman pressed westward and towards the north into Hungary, up to Vienna, or returned flushed with victory or savage because of some defeat. Help came at last, though slowly, and from the side of Hungary as it had done three centuries before. The power of Turkey was already on the wane, and the Treaty of Carlowitz had begun to curtail Othman conquests west and north of Belgrade. Later came the Peace of Passarowitz in 1718, which promised well for Servia, but in reality sowed the seeds of discord between that country and the House of Habsburg. A large part of Bosnia, formerly in the Kingdom of Greater Servia, was annexed to Austria. Austrian officials in the newly acquired territory failed to establish good relations between themselves and the Serbs, so the latter sided with the Turks when Emperor Charles VI began his unhappy campaign against the Sultan in 1738. This service was repaid by the cruelty and excesses of the Janissaries, driving the Serbs to assist the Austrians when Emperor Joseph II and Catherine II of Russia went to war with Sultan Mustapha III. Again no advantage accrued to Servia, and it was not till 1804 and by her own exertions that freedom came nearer to this downtrodden country. In that year, stung into action by increased oppression at the hands of the Turks, the Serbs rose in revolt led by George Petroviç, commonly called Czrini or Czerny George (Kara George by the Turks); Belgrade was stormed on December 12th, and after some successful fights the country was swept clean of the Janissaries. The revolt continued, and as Austria had refused assistance in 1804 Servia called on Russia for help, promising to recognize that Empire's suzerainty in return. The help offered by Russia was not very liberal and the Serbs gained many successes by their own unaided efforts in the years 1809 and 1810. In spite of all their successful endeavours, the Serbs were unkindly treated by the Powers at the Treaty of Bucharest in 1812; they were granted a general amnesty and self-government of internal affairs, but continued to pay tribute to the Sultan and were made to surrender all captured fortresses. As a special favour the Porte allowed all those who were discontented with the results to emigrate. Turkish troops entered Servia again and wore down the forces of Kara George till he gave up the struggle and crossed over into Austria. The struggle was taken up by Milosh Obrenoviç, who defeated Ali Pasha and was eventually proclaimed hereditary Prince when Kara George had been murdered on returning to his country. The Porte acknowledged Milosh Obrenoviç and granted Servia independent jurisdiction, free inner administration by the Treaty of Akkerman, which ended the Russo-Turkish war, and further confirmed the treaty at the Peace of Adrianople in 1829. By bribery and corruption Milosh managed to obtain letters from the Porte in 1830 restoring six former districts to Servia. Then Milosh, feeling secure with a well-trained bodyguard, chose to rule as despot, inflicting arbitrary punishment with many cruelties on those who displeased him. Already well used to revolts the Servians rose against their chosen ruler under Avram Petronijeviç and Thoma Vuciç, and obliged Milosh to grant a constitution. Milosh resigned in favour of his son Milan. Milan lived only a short time and was succeeded by his brother Michael Obrenoviç, who made himself unpopular by levying a tax on acorns when prepared as food for pigs. Pigs are still fortune-makers for the Serbs as they were in those days, so the people revolted again. Michael fled to Austria and a son of Kara George, Alexander Karageorgeviç, was elected in his stead. Even Alexander, a peaceful sovereign, did not please the people for long; he had a leaning towards Austria, and for this reason was called upon to abdicate. Instead of going quietly he appealed to the Porte, whereupon the Servian Parliament, the Skuptshina, recalled Milosh Obrenoviç, now seventy-eight years of age, and placed him on the unsteady throne of Servia for a second time. Followed the son of Milosh, Michael III Obrenoviç; he reorganized the militia forces of Servia and forced the Turks to abandon the remaining fortresses they held in the land, Belgrade, Sabaç, and Semendria, and by 1867 the last Osmanli had left the country. Yet there was dissatisfaction among the Serbs, for Michael III was murdered the following year in Topshida Park at Belgrade, his new capital. Milan Obrenoviç was then called to the throne and took sovereign rights and title in 1878, after Plevna fell and the Serbs had retrieved defeats suffered during that war against Turkey by taking Nish, Pirot, and Leskovoç from the already badly beaten Osmanli. Milan Obrenoviç became King in 1882 and sought to add to his dignity by invading Bulgaria what time that principality was occupied with a revolt in East Roumelia. The Serbs were very badly beaten at Slivniça and Pirot, by a man who knew his business thoroughly, Alexander von Battenberg, Prince of Bulgaria. This ill-success, possibly other motives, led to the resignation of King Milan, who was succeeded by Alexander I, his son. Of that monarch's personality, his life, and ghastly death, I decline to say anything; the papers in June, 1903, were full of it--too full of it. It was left to another Karageorgeviç, Peter I, the present King, to march once more against the old oppressor of the Serbs, and to take lands, once part of Greater Servia, from the hands of those who had so long misruled them. While the rest of Europe was comforting itself with the disproved statement that trouble in the Balkans is always deferred till the snow melts under the rays of a spring sun, the Balkan Kingdoms had entered into an alliance against their old enemy the Turk. Notwithstanding the fact that many of those whose business it is to know such things were well aware of the preparations made by the Allies, European diplomacy lulled itself to sleep by reiterated formulæ, mumbling something about _status quo_. In the meantime Bulgaria, chief of the Allies, had for years been training its hardy sons to a winter campaign, and had, moreover, a most excellent secret intelligence department with its feelers all over Thrace and those parts of the peninsula likely to be immediately affected by a war. Servia had been carefully preparing for the _grand coup_ by reorganizing its military forces. Few people elsewhere in Europe took them seriously, remembering the ease with which Bulgaria defeated her ally some years ago, and also the ineffective clamour raised when Austria-Hungary annexed Bosnia and Herzegovina. Nevertheless it was made possible to extend the army of Servia from a peace footing of some 35,000 men to a field army of 160,000. This was accomplished out of a population of 3,000,000 inhabiting 18,800 square miles, and the total annual cost of that army is only £1,200,000. Compare this with Great Britain's idea of insisting on her voice being heard among the armed nations of Europe on the Continent with an expeditionary force of 100,000 men out of a population of over 45,000,000! But then the Serbs have not yet had time to wax fat and indifferent to their country's needs. Every Serb is obliged to serve his country and does so willingly. Thus the cadres of the Servian standing army swelled as townsmen and sturdy countrymen flocked to join the colours, singing as they marched out armed and eager, "Rado ide Srbin u voinike"--"Gaily the Serbs go to war." While Britons were enjoying the autumn holidays great things were preparing among the Balkan States, and they passed unnoticed. The tension always existent between the Allied Kingdoms and their former conqueror and master became acute in consequence of several incidents. Turkey, dimly realizing that the state of affairs was becoming more and more difficult, thought fit to seize some war material _en route_ to Servia, via Saloniki and Üsküb. Again, Turkey declined to punish those who had joined in the Kochana massacres; Macedonia was roused to fury and its voice found echo in Sofia. Turkey also insisted on carrying out the manoeuvres round Adrianople, planned by Field-Marshal von der Goltz, to show in mimic warfare what shortly after happened in stern reality. Servia protested strongly, so did Bulgaria. Servia mobilized with astounding rapidity, Bulgaria was ready, as every one would suppose who knows that country, its strong ruler, and efficient people. Still Western Europe said, "It is all talk, let us enjoy our holiday," till suddenly the world was made aware of the Balkan Alliance and heard of Turkey's declaration of war against Bulgaria and Servia. In the meantime another of the Allies, the smallest, probably fiercest of them, had begun the dance, the Montenegrins. For centuries these people have been longing to avenge former wrongs done them by the Turks. It was the Turks who drove the remnant of Slav nobility into the inaccessible Black Mountains when the hosts of Islam swarmed over the Danube lands, Servia, Bosnia, Herzegovina, murdering and plundering, destroying an ancient civilization. Secure among their mountains the Montenegrins remained untouched by those influences which have kept their neighbours the Albanians under the dominion of the Sultan. They held firmly to their religion, the Greek Orthodoxy, this kept them united against their enemy the Turk, and they developed along their own lines. Their princely family the Balshas kept Turks and Venetians at bay, and when that dynasty died out their quite natural quarrels were kept down by a line of priestly princes, Vladikas; the Prince-Bishop being celibate was less likely to be dragged into family feuds. By degrees the sovereignty became hereditary, passing from uncle to nephew, until Danilo II relinquished the ecclesiastical side of his dignity. He was assassinated in 1860 and succeeded by Prince Nicholas, now King of Montenegro. Montenegro soon found sufficient pretext for declaring war, and did so in all solemnity on October 8th. Immediately after this act the sons of the mountains were pouring down from the heights over the Turkish border. By a series of sharp, well-contrived attacks they gained numerous advantages over their enemies, had joined hands with the Servian Army by October 25th in the Sandjak of Novi Bazar, had captured S. Giovanni di Medua by November 18th, then assisting General Yankovitch's Servian division in an attack on the fortress of Alessio, which was captured after fierce fighting. In the meantime Montenegro's southern army was investing Scutari, assisted by the northern force moving down from Tuzi. Since the Young Turks came into power in 1908 the natural advantages for defence proper to Scutari have been greatly enhanced, for Hilmi Pasha made this the head-quarters of his action against the Albanians. The garrison of Scutari, computed at some ten thousand men, was well armed and well provided for, and has held out against superior odds. It proposes to hold out till the end, whenever that may be, in spite of all the desperate attacks by night and day to which Montenegrin impetuosity subjects it. Scutari is still holding out, and so far the Montenegrins have poured out their blood before its strong defences in vain. The commander of the fortress absolutely declined to recognize the armistice. On October 17th the Porte issued a formal notification to the Powers that "a state of war exists to-day between the Turkish Empire and the Kingdoms of Bulgaria and Servia." A revolt of Serbs in the districts of Üsküb, Kumanovo, and others had already broken out during the first days of October, and fighting on the frontier was reported some days before the declaration of war at Vranja and near Ristovaç on the Morava. Servia declared war on Turkey on the same day as the Turkish notification was issued, Bulgaria and Greece did likewise; so four kings at the head of their armies crossed the borders of their realms to concentrate in an attack on their old enemy. King Peter of Servia made Vranja his first head-quarters, and from here followed the progress of his armies. They marched down from the mountains in three columns, beating down fierce resistance, gaining victory on victory at enormous cost. By October 21st the Serbs had won a victory at Podujevo, and captured Nova Varosh in the Sandjak. At the same time the Second Army Corps, under General Stephanovich, was forcing its way to Egri Palanka, capturing the important position of Carsko Selo and Sultan Tepe, marching towards Üsküb, where the three armies were to meet eventually. Servian arms were victorious elsewhere. Led by the Crown Prince in person, the Serbs attacked Kumanovo; the fighting lasted with varying fortunes for two days, the Turks offering desperate resistance and making furious counter-attacks. After hard fighting in the Teresh Pass, Prishtina fell to the Serbs, and shortly after the western column captured Mitrovitza, Vuchitra, and Gilan. The Serbs then marched on Üsküb and took it, King Peter entered the town, once a royal residence of the Kraljs of Greater Servia, in solemn triumph, amidst the rejoicings of the populace. There was desperate fighting near Kossovo, on the Amselfeld, where Amurath broke the chivalry of ancient Servia in the fourteenth century, and with his dying eyes watched the death agonies of Knjes Lazar, King of the Serbs. Here on the Amselfeld, the scene of Milosh Kabilovitch's daring deed, Young Servia vindicated its honour, and proved the metal of a nation united in arms to some great purpose, inspired by a high ideal. Then the Servian armies marched on towards Monastir, but were able at the same time to detach troops to reinforce their allies the Greeks, and the Bulgarians before Adrianople. Monastir was closely invested, and fell on November 19th. The Crown Prince held his solemn entry into the town, captured in face of many great obstacles. Besides Turkish regulars, the inhabitants of the town offered desperate resistance, the latter attacking with great ferocity. It was largely bayonet fighting, the Servian infantry carrying one position after another at _pas de charge_, sometimes wading through water breast-high. Finally the Turks attempted a desperate sortie, which ended in a complete rout, during which many who escaped from the sabres of the pursuing Servian cavalry managed to make for Ochrida. This latter city, formerly a royal residence of the Serbo-Bulgarian Tsars, was captured by the Serbs on November 24th. [Illustration: TENEDOS An island close to the Asiatic side of the entrance to the Dardanelles. It served as a base for Greek torpedo-boat destroyers. Here one of these held up the ship I was sailing in.] Then the Serbs set out on yet another desperate venture, in pursuit of an ideal, a window on the Adriatic. Let us hope that a full account of this march of a Servian column over the mountains, from the Lake of Ochrida to Alessio, may be recorded in detail by some of those who took part in it, for the venture is reminiscent of Pizarro's march across the Andes. Communications with head-quarters could only be maintained by means of couriers, and naturally became less frequent as the gallant column disappeared among the mountain passes. The way led along the edge of yawning chasms, the track so narrow that pack animals, hardy mountain ponies, could be loaded on one side only; then again, down some winding ravine, toiling ten miles to advance one; again, amid rocks and boulders, over a pass swept by an icy wind, or through a valley two or three feet deep in snow. Guns and ammunition had to be dragged along, for though the heights were generally deserted, yet now and again hostile Albanians would have to be dispersed before an advance was possible. Rations were very short, yet in spite of hunger, fatigue, and the enemy's attention, the force won through with trifling losses until the waters of the Adriatic gleamed at their feet. And so the Serbs arrived on the sea-coast at Alessio, where they were met by their allies, the Montenegrins, who had taken S. Giovanni di Medua. At yet another point on the Adriatic, at Durazzo, the Serbs emerged from the mountains, to emphasize their claims to an outlet on the sea, while Austrian cruisers looked on jealously. Thus by the end of November all Macedonia had been lost to the Ottoman Empire. Yet the people of Constantinople seemed, for the most part at least, indifferent to outside matters, and continued the even tenor of their way. Only in cafés, and places where men of leisure congregate, would you hear the war discussed, or chiefly the rumours afloat about it, and from these many pot-valiant Turks deduced that, far from all being lost, the Osmanli armies were about to begin the war in earnest. The beaten remnant of Ottoman power in Europe, huddling behind the lines of Chatalja, was to emerge from hiding, march over the Bulgarians up the Valley of the Maritza, relieve famine-stricken Adrianople, and enter Sofia in triumph. Yet another Ottoman army was to march south through Thessaly, retake Saloniki, cross into Epirus, and dictate the Sultan's terms to Greece in Athens. This has been told me seriously by several Turks, those who are interested in the war. What is more, they are firmly persuaded that this can and will happen. With such a people, the majority completely apathetic, a minority wildly optimistic, it is difficult to see how anything like a common-sense view of matters is likely to obtain, and without such common sense Turkey's place in the comity of European nations will probably be filled by people with a better-adjusted sense of proportion. Of course, reports of Servian excesses, atrocities, are spread about, chiefly disseminated by Continental papers. That soldiers flushed by victory are liable to break away from strict discipline is a lamentable fact. I know of few armies of which the same cannot be said with more or less justice. The Continental Press spread reports of this kind about the British army in South Africa, and lowered the status of journalism by these vicious falsehoods. It must also be borne in mind that many Continental papers are to a certain extent used by the Governments of their respective countries for the purpose of creating a tendency. This was distinctly the case during the South African war, when a strong organization poisoned the minds of European nations against Great Britain by means of the Press, in order to justify interference with our affairs. They were ably seconded by a section of the Press in this country. The movement failed of its result owing to the strength of Great Britain and the solidarity of the nation. It seems to be probable that much the same tendency inspired the recent recitals of Servian atrocities. On the whole the Press has not distinguished itself particularly during the Balkan war, and certainly the restrictions placed on war correspondents added to the difficulties of news-getting. Yet this is no reason for substituting fiction for facts, for there are many who still believe what they see in the papers, and among them were a number who suffered considerable anxiety when reading of the state of Constantinople during the last stage of the war. Some accounts were not even remotely connected with the truth. Whatever the truth about Servian atrocities may be it is certain that the Servian Army did its work uncommonly well. Thorough preparedness and good leadership enabled it not only to sweep the Turks out of Macedonia, but also to assist the other Allies, for instance, in detaching eighty thousand men to help the Bulgarians in the siege of Adrianople. How many of those who read their daily paper realize the work done by the Servian Army? In a country where roads are few, and in wet weather only serve to indicate the general direction and not to carry heavy traffic, the Servian troops, especially the infantry, daily covered a surprising amount of ground; what is more, the transport managed to keep up with the marching columns. And it was not all simple marching; there was severe fighting to be done, and heavy ammunition trains had to keep up with the operations in progress. Great credit is due to those who reorganized the Servian Army and fitted it for the task it took in hand. Their names have not been lauded by the Press, their portraits do not constantly figure in the illustrated papers, but they have served their country well, and helped to bring about lasting changes in the state of Europe, changes which will yet cause great anxiety to the people of those very superior Great Powers who sit in judgment on matters which many of them cannot understand. CHAPTER XVIII Bulgarian origin and history--Defeat of Nicephorus I--Luitprand, the historian--Revolt of Peter and Asan--Sisvan and Amurath--My friend "Dedo 'Mitri"--The road to Radoïl--Vasil and his horse--Bulgarian war preparations--His Beatitude Joseph--Advance of Bulgarian armies--The victories of the Allies--Mr. Asquith's assurance. The leading spirit of the Balkan Alliance is Bulgaria, its policy directed by an able ruler, Tsar Ferdinand, its strategy devised by a capable Staff, at whose head, as the sovereign's right hand, stands General Sava Savof. To the Western nations who were indulging in autumn holidays while the Balkan cauldron was seething to overflowing the war came as a surprise, was inaugurated with astounding efficiency, and went its victorious course with bewildering rapidity. That was the impression made by recent events in the Balkans upon the lethargic Western mind. To those who happened to have looked behind the scenes there was no suddenness in the outbreak of hostilities, no surprise at the efficient organization which led to well-deserved successes in the field. It has been my privilege to visit Bulgaria several times, and on each occasion I have returned with a yet higher opinion of the Bulgarian people, their Tsar, and his advisers. The first to mention this people was the Armenian historian Moses, of Koren, towards the end of the fifth century. In his time the Bulgars occupied the lower reaches of the Volga, and called their capital Bulâr, Bulghâr; here was the mart where they transacted business with their neighbours. From the banks of the Volga the Bulgars, a Finno-Ugric race, and akin to the Turks, moved along the northern shore of the Black Sea towards the Danube, and had reached Macedonia by the beginning of the seventh century. When the country which is now Bulgaria formed part of Dacia Trajana, in the days of Emperor Aurelian, Goths swarmed in and drove the Dacians into Moesia, now Servia. They wandered south, much to the discomfiture of ancient Byzantium. On their westward way the Goths, under Theodoric, had trampled down the Finno-Ugric people, the Bulgarians, which had come to the plains of the Lower Danube from the north-east. For a century and a half all traces of this people disappeared from the historian's ken, and they were not heard of again until the ninth century. Debarred by a stronger race from returning northward to rejoin their kinsmen who had migrated to Finland, their progress westward checked by more powerful nations, they turned towards the south, and thus began a conflict which has never ceased, though it may have lain dormant, for over ten centuries, a conflict which has since broken out afresh and led the Bulgars to the gates of Constantinople. These people, the Bulgars, found vent for their military ardour in opposing the inroads of the Eastern Emperors, and may lay claim to an honour till then appropriated only by the Goths--that of having slain a Roman Emperor in battle. It came about in this fashion. Nicephorus I, Emperor of the East (802-811) had advanced with boldness and success into the west of Bulgaria and destroyed the Royal Court by fire. But while he lingered on in search of spoil, refusing all offers of a treaty, his enemies collected their forces and barred the lines of retreat. For two days the Emperor waited in despair and inactivity, on the third the Bulgarians surprised the camp and slew the Emperor and great officers of the Empire. Valens had escaped insults from the Goths when defeated and slain at Adrianople, but the skull of Nicephorus, encased with gold, was made to serve as drinking-vessel. Towards the end of the ninth century King Boris of Bulgaria brought two holy men, Cyril and Methodius, originators of the Cyrillic alphabet adopted by all Slav nations, and Christianity, then introduced, aroused a desire for learning among the Bulgarians. The power of Bulgaria increased, and under Tsar Simeon, son of Boris, extended over Bulgaria of to-day, Wallachia, part of Hungary and Transylvania, parts of Albania and Epirus, of Macedonia and Thessaly. Simeon assumed the title of Tsar and Autocrat of all Bulgarians. This title was retained by all Bulgarian sovereigns until the conquest of their country by the Turks. Early in October an extraordinary session of the Sobranje celebrated the anniversary of Bulgaria's independence and the assumption of the ancient title by Tsar Ferdinand. Simeon, son of Boris, was intended for a religious life, but he abandoned it to take up arms; he inherited the crown of Bulgaria, and reigned from the end of the ninth to well into the tenth century. His education was completed at Constantinople, where many other youthful nobles of his country gathered for the same purpose, and to this day the custom prevails, for among the students at Robert College, which stands high on the banks of the Bosphorus, are many of Tsar Ferdinand's young subjects. Among its former pupils was M. Gueshof, now Prime Minister of Bulgaria. Despite his Byzantine education Simeon did not love the Greeks, and Luitprand, the historian, writes: "Simeon fortis bellator, Bulgariæ proecrat; Christianus sed vicinis Græcis valde inimicus." This hostility to the Greeks found frequent expression, and Simeon with his host appeared before the walls of Constantinople. On classic ground, at Achelous, the Greeks were vanquished by the Bulgarians, and Simeon hastened to besiege the Emperor in his own strong City. Down by the Golden Horn on the plain outside the Gate of Edirné, Tsar Simeon met Romanus Lecapenus, the Emperor of the East, at the place where King Crum of Bulgaria had been asked to confer with Leo V, the Armenian (813-820), and had narrowly escaped the arrows of the archers treacherously concealed in ambush. Vying with the Greeks in the splendour of their display the Bulgars took jealous precautions against a similar surprise, and deep mistrust informed the spirit in which their sovereign dictated terms of peace. "Are you a Christian?" asked the humbled Emperor. "It is your duty to abstain from the blood of your fellow-Christians. Has the thirst for riches seduced you from the blessings of peace? Sheathe your sword, open your hand, and I will give you the utmost measure of your desire." But peace was not for long. Simeon's successors by their jealousies undermined the strength of the kingdom, and when next the Bulgarians met the Greeks in battle they were easily defeated by Basil II, called Bulgaroktonos. A terrible home-coming theirs; through snow and ice the remnant of Bulgaria's manhood struggled on in little bands of a hundred at a time, each company following the voice of a single leader, as they groped their way through darkness--they were blinded. They had escaped from the clemency of a Christian Emperor, by whose orders only one man in each hundred retained the sight of one eye. Then for over a century Bulgaria remained subject to Byzantium, until two Bulgarian chiefs--Peter and Asan--rose in revolt against Isaac Angelus (1185-1195), and spread the fire of rebellion from the Danube to the hills of Macedonia and Thrace. So Isaac and his brother, Alexius III (1195-1203), were forced to recognize Bulgaria's independence. Such hopeless rulers as Alexius IV and V and Nicolas Canabas made easy the conquest of Byzant by the Latins in 1204. Calo John, King of Bulgaria, sent friendly greetings to Baldwin I, the new Emperor of the East, but these provoked an unexpected answer. Baldwin demanded that the rebel should deserve his pardon by touching with his forehead the footstool of the imperial throne. So trouble broke out again. Again war was waged, with all its attendant savagery, and Calo John reinforced his army by a body of fourteen thousand horsemen from the Scythian deserts. A fierce battle at Adrianople resulted in the total defeat of the Emperor, who was taken prisoner. His fate was for some years uncertain, and even the demands of the Pope for the restitution of the Emperor failed to elicit any other answer from King John save that Baldwin had died in prison. For years the conflict raged, till Henry, the second Latin Emperor of the East, routed the Bulgarians. Calo John was slain in his tent by night, and the deed was piously ascribed to the lance of St. Demetrius. [Illustration: Golubaç The stronghold of Old Servia guarding the Pass of Kasan.] In the fourteenth century another foe threatened Bulgaria and all Eastern Europe. Amurath with his Janissaries was closing in upon Constantinople. He beat the Greek Emperor at Adrianople in 1361, and made this town his base of operations against Bulgaria, which country he harried until Sisvan, the Tsar, obtained peace at the price of offering his daughter in marriage to Amurath. But peace did not ensue, and Sisvan had to flee before Ali, and surrendered at Nicopolis. Nicopolis, where King Sigismund of Hungary was vanquished by Sultan Bajazet, by whose victory the Balkan States became subject to the Porte. Here there was fierce fighting in 1810, and again in 1877, for the road to the Pass of Plevna starts from here. Here at Nicopolis are the ruins, underground, of one of the earliest Christian churches, but its history is quite unknown. Recent times have witnessed the rise of Bulgaria from the status of an Ottoman province to that of an independent kingdom, strong, prosperous, and determined. And on its southern frontier, and from the banks of the Struma to the Black Sea shore, the armed forces of Bulgaria strained at the leash, their eager gaze towards Constantinople, Tsarigrad, the Castle of Cæsar. Among those whose eager eyes turned ever towards the south is one (I hope he still lives) for whom I have the friendliest feelings. His name is Dedo 'Mitri, and I venture to describe a visit I paid to that worthy. Like Bill Sloggins of song, Dedo 'Mitri is "a party as you don't meet every day." The continuation of the verse applies equally: "He's always hale and hearty, And he's cheerful in his way." In itself this condition is a matter for no great wonderment, but you must know that Dedo 'Mitri has reached the age at which it cannot be said of many that they are always hale and hearty. Many do not travel as far along life's journey as Dedo 'Mitri has done; he was well on in the eighties when I met him a year or two ago. This, of course, accounts for his being called "Dedo 'Mitri," which, being interpreted, meaneth "Grandfather Dimitri." The fact of Dimitri being abbreviated to 'Mitri speaks of his popularity. Several circumstances go towards the making of Dedo 'Mitri's popularity. His age, of course, has something to do with it, his cheerfulness still more, and his position adds to his popularity--he keeps the largest of the two inns in the village, keeps the only inn that really counts for anything. Probably the most important ingredient of the recipe for Dedo 'Mitri's popularity is his past--he is an ex-comitadji. To have been a comitadji is indeed a matter of great distinction in those countries south of the Balkans. There it is that Dedo 'Mitri lives and has his being, there, among the Rhodope Mountains, along which runs the frontier between Bulgaria and Turkey. Dedo 'Mitri is a Bulgarian, a splendid specimen of a fine race. For his country's sake Dedo 'Mitri endured untold hardships, and committed deeds desperate and daring, deeds that perhaps send their phantoms crowding round his couch o' nights. Perhaps! though to all appearances Dedo 'Mitri's looks do not suggest nights spent with the spectre Remorse. He, like other fighters for a country's liberties, may rather glory in what he has done, though of this again no word escapes him. There are others in the village ready to tell you of his exploits. [Illustration: Dedo 'Mitri] Songs and legends of the great, of King Crum, Tsar Simeon, and the Asens, kept alive the intense feeling of Bulgarian nationality during centuries of Turkish domination. Under the heavy oppression of Ottoman rule the Church founded by Cyril and Methodius lived on, deeply rooted in the hearts of the people. So, when Bulgaria awoke in the beginning of the nineteenth century there were found men like Dedo 'Mitri to take up arms, to sacrifice all for their country's liberty. He was a baby when Russia declared war against Turkey in 1827, but still remembers the depth of feeling that stirred his folk and urged him to take his share in the work as soon as his arm was strong enough for it. He was in the full vigour of manhood when his own efforts, and those of other patriots, had brought about the establishment of a Bulgarian Exarchate at Constantinople. He rejoiced when the Congress of Berlin ratified the treaty of San Stefano, making Bulgaria autonomous, and his militant activity came to an end when Eastern Roumelia was united to his country. Now Dedo 'Mitri lives at peace with all the world in his quiet little village among the Rhodope Mountains. To get to Radoïl, where Dedo 'Mitri lives, two roads are open to you. You may train from Sofia to Bellova, then drive along the high road towards Tshamkuria in the mountains. The road is good, because the King has a shooting-box at Tshamkuria, and he is very particular about the roads he travels over. Radoïl is half-way to Tshamkuria, and every one who passes that way stops to bait at Dedo 'Mitri's. If you wish to see more of people and country than is possible from the train, another way to Radoïl is preferable. Take a seat in the motor which goes to Tshamkuria every other day. The chauffeur is a young Englishman, who has a good deal to say if you ask him about the state of the road. It is in parts a very bad road indeed. In fact, but for the trees that line it with more or less regularity on either hand, you might mistake the road for a dried-up watercourse. The first part of the road is not so bad, quite good, in fact, but it suddenly becomes incredibly bad, about eight or ten miles from the small town of Samakov, and the streets of that town are quite Oriental in their uselessness as such. You stop at Samakov to let the engine cool down a bit, and find it quite an Oriental town. Here and there an old mosque, a Turkish fountain, and mules, donkeys, heavy-going buffaloes drinking at it. The costumes of the people you meet are Oriental, though the women go unveiled. Samakov has a garrison; it is not far from the Turkish frontier, and the uniforms of the fine-looking Bulgarian soldiers strike a Western note. But on the whole the aspect of the town is Oriental, the smells intensely so. The road improves as it leaves Samakov, it becomes really quite a good road, and carries you upwards into the mountains. There on a high plateau embowered in a forest of pines lies Tshamkuria. It is a hot-weather resort--everybody who is anybody in Sofia comes here for the summer. But we are not concerned with such fashionable matter, we have set out to visit Dedo 'Mitri at Radoïl, so start at once. We have arranged for the hire of a conveyance the evening before with a Jew. If the weather be fine we will drive away at seven in the morning, keep the conveyance for the day, and pay the son of Israel seven francs. The morning mist among the mountains made one or two unsuccessful attempts to turn into rain; we thought the weather fine enough, the Jew did not think so, and therefore thought fit to demand double the amount arranged for. This was not to be borne, so we looked about for some other means of conveyance, and in our search met one Vasil. Vasil, a stout Bulgarian peasant wearing a dubious cotton shirt, his thick cloth baggy breeches upheld by a cummerbund of faded crimson, his coat of the same brown cloth, black braided, slung over his shoulders, promised to convey us to Radoïl in great comfort as soon as he should have caught a horse. It appeared there were several horses over which Vasil disposed, but they happened to be out in the forest in search of breakfast. After a delay of an hour or so Vasil returned with what he described as a horse. The likeness was there, though very remote, and the unhappy-looking scraggy pony was tied by assorted strings to a two-wheeled trap--once upon a time something like a dogcart; a head-stall and odd bits of harness were then artistically arranged about this anatomical study, Vasil wiped the damp seat with a wet cloth, handed me his whip, and intimated that all was ready for a start. All was not ready, however, for the horse had gone to sleep, and my attempt to crack the whip flung the lash into the bushes, whence it had to be retrieved, then refastened. In the meantime the horse realized that something unusual was toward; he woke up, shook off some bits of harness, and went to sleep again while they were being readjusted. Then Vasil woke him up again, gave him a gentle lead, and so we really started. There was no difficulty about finding the road, or chance of losing your way. The road leads broad and smooth in zigzags down into the valley where Radoïl lies. On either hand dense forest, where wolves prowl during the winter months and bears are no infrequent visitors. Huge pines send straight shafts up into the morning sky, their dark green striking a sombre note among the rich green of birch and oak. Here and there honeysuckle trails over masses of rock in sweet profusion, and the voice of a tinkling stream lightens our way with music. Now and again at an angle of the road we were granted a glimpse of the distant country below, wide expanses of fertile plains, and beyond them again the purple lines of mountains far away. The sun had broken through the mountain mist and called forth the songs of birds. Those angles of the road were rather too much for the horse. The trap boasted of no brake, the wheels revolved in a manner suggesting the infirmity of extreme old age, yet they took charge and guided our course, and with senile spite attempted to hurl us into the depths below. But we were saved by the fact that our speed was not excessive. Any attempt at steering the horse by the usual method led to a dead stop, on which occasion the head-gear would fall off. All these matters put much incident into our journey. After a couple of hours the "passage perilous" down the mountain was behind us and we were on a fairly straight and level road. An occasional gentle rise met us; this caused the horse to stop for contemplation of the awful task before him; he would shake his head at our wild proceedings and patiently wait until the whip-lash had been recovered. Our progress, though not marked by any undue haste, roused interest where we passed. Slow-stepping oxen dragging a plough, a primitive implement, little more than an iron-shod staff, would stop to watch us with big wondering eyes. At last--a turn of the road brought us in full view of the village and we rattled down the stone-paved street. Stone-paved--that is, large stones were placed about at irregular intervals, the interstices being pools of muddy water. Across a bridge, over a turbulent mountain stream, and we pulled up in front of Dedo 'Mitri's hostelry. [Illustration: Radoïl Dedo 'Mitri's Hostelry.] Dedo 'Mitri himself stands outside his front door. The house projects above it, thus forming what might be a verandah were it not on a level with the road. Dedo 'Mitri was in shirt-sleeves, as becomes a busy man. The twinkle in his eyes might be that of a hospitable welcome, though having heard of his antecedents it may be suspected of suggesting old predatory instincts slow to die. We advised our host that we meant to take the midday meal with him, and while he prepared it we had a look at the village, took a sketch or two which meant to give a better idea of the place than word-painting can do. The accessories to the repast prepared by Dedo 'Mitri were simple in the extreme, it was also necessary to wipe your fork carefully before using it. However, the food was good, wholesome grey bread and a quaint mess of eggs and cream-cheese. Then Dedo 'Mitri was called upon to supply cheese by itself; this he did without demur, but a demand for clean plates puzzled him, though he complied. On being asked for a clean knife he had no cause to vanish again into his dark kitchen, but produced a murderous-looking clasp-knife from out the pocket of his voluminous breeches; we preferred our own knives. An excellent if somewhat rough red wine accompanied the repast. In the meantime the village had assembled. Stalwart men stood round us watching intently, others sat drinking wine a little way off. The village priest in passing, seeing something unusual in progress, stepped in and found the time suitable for refreshment. A background of children completed the circle. When it became evident that sketching was the next event Dedo 'Mitri's authority was evidenced. I pointed out a small fair child with dark-lashed eyes--Dimitra--she was called up to stand perfectly still. This she did in solemn wonder. A well-built maiden moved with graceful steps to the village fountain opposite the house. On my noticing her Dedo 'Mitri's powerful voice rang out, "Helenka," and she too remained motionless until released. There were urgent demands from the spectators to be taken one after another, but time was short, so only one smart buck, his short jacket slung jauntily across his shoulders, figures in my sketch-book. Then Vasil was called for. He appeared leading the horse, both stumbling--the horse from the infirmity of old age, Vasil from an undue indulgence in the red wine. He had also regaled himself freely on garlic; the afternoon sun drew an indescribable aroma from him. Farewell to Dedo 'Mitri and promises to return, farewells and much handshaking to all the assembled village, a discriminate distribution of small copper coins, a courtly salute from the priest, and we turned our horse's head towards the mountains whence we came. Slower than ever was our progress, as Vasil in his sleep was constantly falling off the back seat, and the horse, once stopped, was loath to move on again. The whip-lash was lost for ever, yet there was the broad road up into the mountains all before us. We left Vasil and his conveyance in the road and turned afoot into a track which used to be the only means of communication in earlier days. A very unsafe one too, for it offered splendid opportunities to those who pursue guerilla warfare. Here and there were masses of boulders whence marksmen could command the track and then vanish in the impenetrable forests. Dedo 'Mitri knows them well, that track, those piles of rock that offer cover to the sniper, those giants of the forest, and the thick undergrowth that covered his retreat. But Dedo 'Mitri no longer goes to see his old acquaintances the rocks and forest trees. His country is free, free as the wind that howls on wintry nights up the valley to join chorus with the wolves. From mountain and valley, from town and village, the Crescent had faded away to the south, and Bulgaria, a strong young kingdom, forced its way out of Turkish oppression. They are old men now, those who are left, who like Dedo 'Mitri spent the best years of their life in the cause of freedom. But the story has never been forgotten, the traditions of Bulgaria's former greatness live strong in a regenerate Bulgaria. The sons of Bulgaria looked down from the Rhodope Mountains, over the rolling plains, their gaze bent on Constantinople, Tsarigrad, the Castle of Cæsar. They have knocked at the gates of that City before. With consummate skill Tsar Ferdinand kept his plans secret while the Balkan League was forming to overthrow the last of Ottoman power in Europe. For many years all Bulgaria had been preparing for this great stroke, arming, organizing, making sacrifices as a nation must do when in pursuit of a high ideal, so when the moment came it found a strong people, trained to arms, determined to snatch success from before the cannon's mouth and crown its standards with laurel victory. With a possible war strength of over three hundred thousand men and four hundred and fifty guns Bulgaria stood ready to take the field. The massacres of Kochana gave impetus to the avalanche which was ready to descend over the hills and vales of Thrace. Bulgaria had been making steady propaganda in Macedonia and had drawn within the folds of its nationality a great number of those nondescripts, Slavs, who form the major portion of the inhabitants of that quondam Turkish province. This propaganda was actively supported by the Bulgarian Church under its enlightened high-priest, His Beatitude Joseph, Exarch of Bulgaria. I first met the Exarch some years ago while on a visit to Bulgaria. His Beatitude had left Constantinople, where the interests of his flock in Macedonia require that he should reside, and was taking a holiday in a remote village near Sofia, a village nestling among the mountain range of Vitosa, by the banks of a mountain torrent along which a broad military road leads to the Turkish frontier. We discussed the state of Macedonia, and though I may not divulge all that was said to me, I gained an even higher opinion of Bulgarian thoroughness and efficiency. We also discussed the schism between the Greek and Bulgarian sections of the Orthodox Church; this is a purely political matter, and was freely used by the Porte to foster racial animosity in Macedonia. When the Greeks gained their independence the Bulgarians of Macedonia were encouraged to build schools and were allowed to endow several new bishoprics; when the Greeks were temporarily disabled by the war of 1898 the Porte thought fit to persecute the Bulgarians of Macedonia, assisted in this by Pomaks, Bulgarians converted to Islam some centuries ago. The Turks overdid this policy, and their measures only served to crystalize the different non-Turk racial and religious elements of Macedonia. Bands of comitadjis were formed, they assisted nationalist propaganda by primitive methods, and finally, the Porte being weakened by revolution and the vacillations of a farcical Parliament terrorized by esoteric militarism, strengthened the arms of those who sought freedom from Turkish rule. The occasion arose over the massacres of Kotchana, which sent a wave of fierce indignation over Bulgaria. Reforms in Macedonia and the punishment of those concerned in the outrages were demanded by Tsar Ferdinand and refused by the Porte, which, feeling itself strong enough and ignoring the strength and stability of the Balkan Alliance, declared war on Bulgaria. Forthwith the armies of Bulgaria, already assembled in battle array on the frontier, poured into Thrace and overran that province, driving the Ottoman forces before it. War was declared by Turkey against Bulgaria and Servia on October 17th, on the same day Greece sent a similar declaration to the Porte. Then the highly organized forces of the Allies marched. While the Greek navy put to sea to capture islands in the Ægean and invaded Turkey from the south, the Bulgarians entered Thrace in three columns under the Tsar and General Savof, General Hanof capturing Kurt Kalé and Mustapha Pasha on October 18th. On the following day Turkish cruisers made a futile attempt on the Bulgarian coast, bombarding Varna and destroying an inoffensive monastery. By this day all the four Allies had invaded Turkish territory. The mountain passes were in the hands of the Bulgarians by October 20th, and the army marching on Adrianople; Adrianople, where the Bulgars had vanquished Emperor Nicephorus and his troops by the banks of the Maritza in 811. While in the west the Servian army was continuing its victorious march on Üsküb, while the Montenegrin northern army under Prince Danilo moved from Berane to the capture of Plava and Gusinje, and their southern army commenced the siege of Scutari by attacking Tarabosh, the Bulgarian armies drove the Turks from the Arda River west of Adrianople, and General Dimitrief completed the easterly turning movement by attacking the Ottoman forces at Kirk Kilisse. Here the battle raged to and fro with varying success until the Turks, under Abdullah Pasha, were finally routed on October 24th. At the same time Bulgarian troops occupied Vasiliko on the Black Sea; the Servians, under General Yankovitch, had already captured Prishtina on the 20th, and others commanded by General Ziskovitch had entered Kralovo and Novi Bazar. On the day which witnessed the defeat of Abdullah Pasha at the hands of General Dimitrief at Kirk Kilisse, the Servians, led by their Crown Prince in person, won the decisive battle of Kumanovo. The tale of disaster continued; on October 25th the Turks evacuated Küprölü in the west; in the eastern theatre of war the Bulgarians opened the bombardment of Adrianople. On the following day King Peter entered Üsküb, the former residence of Servian Kings, in solemn state, and Küprölü, Drama, and Koziani were captured by the forces of the Allies. Further Ottoman losses occurred on October 27th, when Istip fell and the Bulgarians captured Baba Eski, occupied Bunar Hissar, and took the Kresna Pass in the Struma Valley. All this time the Greeks were gaining ground towards Janina, and by October 30th had captured Veria and Thasos, preparatory to marching on Saloniki. By October 31st fighting was general all along the line in Thrace, the Allies were marching on Saloniki, and the northern and southern armies of Montenegro had closed in upon Scutari. By the beginning of November the Western Powers had awakened from the dreams of the soporific _status quo_ and began to realize that that formula no longer applied to the Near East. On November 9th Mr. Asquith solemnly announced that the Allies must have secured to them the fruits of victory. I wonder what Power, or group of Powers, however prominent the capital P, would dare to rob these gallant young nations of what they have won by bravery and devotion such as no older nation has exhibited in recent history. The Allies had continued along the path of conquest; Serbs had occupied Prilep and begun their advance on the Albanian coast, and Saloniki had surrendered before Mr. Asquith's sententious statement. Fighting continued, and step by step the Allies pressed their old enemy towards the sea, the Greeks occupying more islands in the Ægean, the Bulgars pressing on towards Chatalja, hammering insistently on those outer defences of Constantinople till the Porte saw no help for it but to arrange an armistice. So while the great men of the Great Powers were beginning to realize what was happening next door, and were working the cumbrous machinery of diplomacy too late for any practical purpose, the Allies, four young nations, unspoilt by luxury and great possessions, inspired by a high ideal, crossed their borders, drove the Ottoman forces before them from many a sternly contested field, and forced them to offer terms within a day's march of the Turkish capital. There is great glory in this crusade of the Allies against the heavy obstacle to progress which centres in Constantinople. Great glory for Western civilization by which these young kingdoms were informed when they set their house in order and united their forces to bold endeavour. Great glory to the faith they profess, which makes union possible and thus leads to victory. Greater glory still to those of all the other European nations who, seeing the plight of Christianity's old enemy, hastened to assist him. Here in Constantinople they are at work, these bearers of Western culture, under Red Cross or Red Crescent, helping where the Turkish authorities have proved helpless, saving thousands from death by wound or disease while their own stand by and let the mosques, built to commemorate the victories of Islam, overflow with untended sufferers. Yes, it is a great and glorious victory this last crusade begun by the young kingdoms of the Balkans, informed with high purpose, trained by Western thought and action, completed by those soldiers of the Cross who risked their lives in fighting dread diseases, seeking no reward, moved by that mainspring of their faith, Charity. CHAPTER XIX The signing of the armistice--The voyage home--The Dardanelles--The Straits of Messina--Turkish opinion on the war--Ada Kalé--Review of present situation. After November 17th a period of inactivity set in outside, by the lines of Chatalja, the heavy sound of guns ceased to accompany the daily round of work or pleasure which makes the life of Constantinople, Pera, and Galata. Refugees still moved with their creaking waggons and sought the shelter of the mosques, or camped on open spaces. Some pitched their wandering tents round a dilapidated monastery on the heights whereon stands the wireless telegraphy station. The golf-links are on this open space--here you may see intent Englishmen, who have snatched an hour or so between work and their voluntary duties at the hospitals, stalking after the elusive golf-ball, in their wake a listless caddie, preceding them a ragged urchin with a flag to mark the next green. In the meantime rumours floated about the City, tales of atrocities committed by the Greek soldiery at Saloniki, accounts of the solemn reconsecration of the Agia Sophia in that town by its Metropolitans and the one of Athens. Reports came of the sufferings of those Jews who had lived contentedly under Turkish rule at Saloniki since the days when Ferdinand and Isabella expelled their forebears from Spain, still retaining the Spanish language written in Hebrew characters. Then was borne another rumour, which grew, assumed the air of certainty, and then emerged as an accomplished fact--it concerned the negotiations for an armistice to be concluded between the Porte and the Allies. An historic event that meeting between representatives of the Sultan's army and the enemy who had been clamouring for admittance without the lines of Chatalja, so near the capital of the Sultan's Empire. They met at four o'clock on December 4th, at a place between the outposts of the armies. The delegates came by rail as far as a point where the line was broken at Batchekeui. Where the broken line resumes its road to Constantinople the train bearing Nazim Pasha and his suite awaited the delegates. Nazim Pasha descended from his saloon car and went on foot to meet the delegates, Bulgarians, to represent Servian and Montenegrin interests as well as their own, Greeks to speak for themselves. They all entered the saloon car, which the Greek representatives left again after a little while. The sitting of the Bulgarians and Turks, conducted with great secrecy, lasted till 8.15 p.m. Turkish officers were sitting round a huge camp-fire which lit up the tents of their army's head-quarters at Hademkeui, the smoke curling up into the sky of a cold, damp winter's evening; these officers discussed the probable results of the conference, and hoped for a continuance of the war. A shrill whistle heralded the return of Nazim Pasha's train. He alighted, gave an order to one of the officers attending him, and soon the news spread that an armistice had been arranged. By the lines of Chatalja, the last defences of Constantinople, the Ottoman army agreed to a cessation of hostilities with the former subjects of so many victorious Sultans. The armistice soon broadened out into a desire for peace proposals, and London was chosen as the place where they should be discussed. When the Ottoman delegates left Constantinople for England my work was done, and I turned homewards. It was a cold, cloudy morning when my ship swung slowly out from her moorings at Galata, and the smoke of the city hung over it as a heavy canopy into which the cypresses pointed warning fingers. Slowly we moved past the mighty warships of foreign nations, round Seraglio Point out into the Sea of Marmora. A slight breeze arose and disturbed the canopy of smoke, broke the heavy banks of clouds, and admitted rays of hopeful sunlight through the rifts. Here and there light broke upon the moving waters, called forth glittering reflections from the portholes of some sombre man-of-war, or tipped the muzzle of a gun with flashing silver. Under the uncertain sunshine Seraglio Point stood out white against the dark cypresses, whose outlines were blurred by the heavy mass of crowded Galata and Pera, crowned by the tower. The sun shone out stronger as we ploughed through the steel-blue waters, throwing up the gleaming brasswork on the dome of St. Sophia like a bright star in a murky night. The yellow buildings of the Palace of Justice stood out bravely from their commanding position, and the distant towers of Yedi Koulé showed up against the heavy background of shadowed, undulating country. As the sun rose higher in the heavens the snow-clad mountains of Asia gloriously reflected its victorious rays. We arrived early in the morning at the Dardanelles, and there we had one more experience of Turkish procrastination. Without any apparent reason, the tug appointed to pilot us through the mine-fields failed to answer to our signals, and kept us waiting several hours. Then she came bustling up, went about, and bade us follow her. Ours was the first of a string of ships; we were followed by a fretful-looking Roumanian mail-steamer, and behind her came several patient tramps, thumping leisurely along. Everywhere along the European side of the Dardanelles, to which we kept quite close, were evidences of military preparations against attack; machine-guns were artlessly concealed by dry brushwood among the green undergrowth of the cliffs, old field-guns stood out lonely behind insufficient earthworks, here and there were groups of soldiers, sentries--one I noticed with his back to the sea--and patrols of cavalry scurried along the road. The daylight brightened as we sailed on past ruined castles and obsolescent earthworks into the blue Ægean Sea, losing sight of the Turkish fleet--grey and heavy, and listlessly at anchor by the old towers of the Dardanelles. No sooner had our ship put her nose out into the open than we saw black clouds of smoke hurrying along the skyline: Greek destroyers on the look-out for any ships coming out of the Dardanelles. There was one more evidence of war as we drew near to Tenedos, with its mediæval fortress. Greek destroyers were lying under the ancient walls, and one of them dashed out to hold us up in the approved style. First a blank shot across our bows and then a boarding-party of Greek sailors, who wandered about our ship in what seemed to me a very aimless manner. Then we sailed on again southward, past many islands, till we turned into the Mediterranean Sea. A strong breeze came off the land, where cloud shadows were chasing each other over rocky promontories, foam-tipped waves were playing at the foot of steep cliffs, and little white-winged sailing vessels came dancing over the sea. There was "Festa" at Reggio and Messina, for it was Sunday, and myriads of lights cast fitful reflections on the waters of the straits as we sailed through them. Then came a day of tumbling seas, roused by the wind that sweeps across from the Gulf of Lions, and then sunshine on the southern coast of France, lighting up the stern walls of Château d'If, and shining on Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde, over the busy port of Marseilles. Then a furious rush through fair Provence, to Paris, thence through Normandy, and then again the sea, green under a grey sky, boisterous as the free winds that whistled in the rigging, as the smart little turbine packet thrust her saucy nose into the waves and tossed them over her back, pitching, rolling, until fitful gleams of sunlight lit up the chalk cliffs of England. In the meantime the fate of a broken Empire was being decided in London. Not at first with the dignity which such an event demands, so deeply important in the world's history; rather was it characterized by the methods of the Oriental bazaar, and its small, haggling spirit. While Adrianople was starving, while the Sultan's troops shivered on the bleak, wind-swept outposts that guard Constantinople at the lines of Chatalja, unseemly procrastination marked the course of events at the meetings of the delegates, who met for an hour or so now and again, then returned to their luxurious quarters. Meanwhile the tone and temper of the Turks, as expressed in Constantinople, caused much anxiety to those who longed for peace. I had seen some signs of this before leaving the East. The minds of some Turks with whom I discussed the situation were still full of imagined victories for the future; they declined to consider themselves defeated, and expressed their confidence that victorious Ottoman armies would yet hold triumphant entry into Sofia--and Athens. Their opinion may be set aside as worthless. Those who know, and there are many, though they keep their convictions secret, are aware that inefficiency has brought the East down before the organized, purposeful West, and that the days of Turkish rule in Europe are numbered, that the Ottoman Empire this side of the Bosphorus is as much doomed as was that of ancient Byzant when Amurath made Adrianople his capital. The great majority of Turks appear to be of the same mind as Ali, the master-weaver; they know little of what is happening, they seem to care less. Those soldiers that I have seen returned from the front looked too listless and miserable to form an opinion, and they probably know as little of what went on during the war as the private soldier generally does in these days of warfare over a large extent of country. I have generally found the task of drawing out old soldiers on their war experiences to result in recitals too romantic for use in anything but a work of fiction, or else quite fruitless. There was one, a German barber, who had been through the campaign of 1870-1871; when asked to relate his experiences, all he could say, after deep reflection, was: "Every day I shave de captain." It may be taken for granted that the Ottoman Empire as a European Power is a thing of the past, that all those provinces carved out of Europe by the sword of Othman have been lost by the sword, and that of Turkey in Europe nothing remains but the strips of land which the Allies are pleased to leave to their old enemy. Constantinople will remain Turkish for some time yet--ten years, perhaps fifteen--but methinks the Turk is tired of his stay in Europe, that he will soon pack up his small possessions and return to Asia Minor, whence he came. One tiny patch of European territory may yet remain Turkish, perhaps by an oversight similar to that which kept it so since the Berlin Treaty overlooked it, Ada Kalé. This is a small island in the middle of the Danube, opposite the broad, poplar-lined avenue which leads to the Koronzi Kapella, where the crown of St. Stephan, the saintly King of Hungary, was buried when Kossuth fled in 1848. Ada Kalé is a typical Turkish settlement, with little wooden houses growing out of masses of old fortifications, around a mosque with its slender minaret standing out against the dark forests and rocks that rise up to form the Iron Gate. The small population is typically Turkish, very partial to the smuggling of tobacco, and not untouched by modern ideas. They share a deputy in the Turkish Parliament with some other place, and have, at least some of them, a well-developed thirst for Pilsener beer. I have seen two Turks from the island making exceeding merry over large beakers of that beverage in a garden restaurant at Orsova one fine summer's day. When Turkey has finally jettisoned those encumbrances, the European vilayets, and withdrawn to Asia Minor, the Ottoman Empire will probably gain considerably in strength by consolidation, and by carrying out many social and economical reforms which have been kept in abeyance during the constant trouble caused by the war-clouds that hung over Eastern Europe. A strong Turkish Empire in Asia Minor, real control over the tribes in Syria, strict surveillance of the eastern and north-eastern frontiers, will mean some prospect of peace in those very unsettled regions. Great Britain, of all European Powers, should aid in this enterprise, and that at once, for there are other Powers interested in Asia Minor. [Illustration: The Fountain at Radoïl In the foreground Helenka, a Bulgarian maiden] It is high time that the people of Great Britain should realize the change which recent warlike happenings have brought about, and that they should bend their great minds to a consideration of the future. Four small Balkan kingdoms united to formidable strength have brought down the military power of an Empire which, in spite of its many weaknesses, was considered strong enough to be an important factor in the affairs of Europe. This feat was accomplished in seven weeks, and by armies composed of the whole manhood of each militant state, just as the manhood of the barbarian races vanquished the paid soldiery of Rome and shattered the World-empire of the first "Völkerwanderung." Then as now fresh young nations put all their strength into the struggle, their opponents did not, for Imperial Rome sent out hired armies to defend their possessions while the Roman citizens lived a life of idleness and pleasure at the expense of the State; and the Sublime Porte, excluding the population of the capital from military service even as Byzant had done, and for the same reason, namely, that it was not considered expedient to have a populace trained to arms round the palace walls, sent thousands of ignorant Anatolian peasants to a war the cause of which they could not understand. Enthusiasm, efficiency, and the spirit of self-sacrifice led the young nations on the road to victory; moreover, they found an ally in the selfishness of their antagonists, sycophants and pleasure-seekers, trusting to the paid legionaries of Rome or the foreign-trained political intriguers of the Sultan's army. Imperial Rome perished of corruption and had to make way for something cleaner, wholesomer. The Turkish Empire in Europe has gone the same way, and the same causes brought about its fall. Would it not be as well for us Britons to look at home? It would indeed be advisable, for the end is not yet. That Turkey retains some small portions of her former European possessions is of little moment, what really matters is that the forces which have for so long been controlled by diplomacy have now been set in motion, and to my mind the recent Balkan war is little more than an advanced-guard action. The theatre of war had to be cleared of an encumbrance, so the Allied States of the Balkans drove the Turks out in order that no side issue should interfere with the solution of the great problem. The problem is much the same as that which presented itself during the first migration of nations. The German races felt drawn to the south and the east, the Slavs were impelled towards the west, and then, as now, have blocked the way of the former's progress. The movements of nations during the first "Völkerwanderung" had probably no very definite aim; the barbarians beat down resistance when they could, but when too strongly opposed they went elsewhere. The present movement is caused by the same desire for expansion, but it is also inspired by very definite aims and ambitions. The probable resistance to be met with has been calculated to a nicety, plans have been made to overcome obstacles, and all this is due to efficiency. The Turk was in the way, he proved inefficient and went under. Now that he is down it will be noticed how few friends he has. It has been asserted that we Britons are in the way. Are we efficient? If not, who are our friends and what their worth should heavy troubles come upon us by our own fault? THE END INDEX Abbasid Caliphs, 159 Abdul Hamid, 225 Abu-dekr, 55, 158 Abul Abbas, 162 Acacius, 72 Academies, 152 Achmet, Grand Vizier, 211 Achmet, son of Bajazet, 195 Achmet II, 213 Achmet III, 217 Acholius, Bp., 80 Ada Kalé, 324 Adjé Bey, 170 Adrianople, 44, 110, 171 Ahmedyeh Achmet, Mosque of, 68, 102, 103 Akindji, Irregular Light Horse, 165 Al Mamun, 159 Ala-ed-din, 164 Albanians, The, 242, 271 Alcibiades, 42 Aleppo, Battle at, 197 Alexander the Great, Sarcophagus of, 50 Alexander John I, 25 Alexander I of Servia, 285 Alexander von Battenberg, 285 Alexius, 65, 135 Ali Pasha of Janina, 173, 223, 243 Almoraivids of Spain, The, 160 Amron, Omar's General, 158 "Amselfeld," The, 174, 289 Amurath I, 54, 170 Amurath II, 66, 179 Amurath III, 105 Amurath IV, 208 Amycus, King of the Bebryces, 37 Anatoli Hissar, 38 Anatoli Kavak, 30 Anatolian peasants, 149 Andronicus, Emperor, 166 Anemas, Tower of, 135 Angelus, Tower of Isaac, 135 Angora, Defeat of Bajazet at, 177 Anthony of Thebais, 94 Apsimar, 74 Arab power, Rise of the, 146 Arabs, The, 96 Arcadius, 60 Armatoles, 237 Armenian Church, The, 85 Armenians, The, 85, 266 Armistice, An, 319 Armoury, The, 57 Army, Bad organization of the Turkish, 153 Army of Mohammed IV, 211 Army, Roumania's, 27 Army, Selim's, 203 Arslan, son of Thogrul, 160 Art in Constantinople, 51, 156 Arsena Clan, The, 145 Ashikian, Patriarch, 270 Athenians, The, 42 At-meïdan, 71 Atrium of Justinian, The, 53 Attila, 119 Augsburg, 198 Austria and Roumania, 26 Austrian railway carriages, 19 Avari, The, 22, 42, 52 Azab's Light Infantry, 165 Badajoz, Espionage at, 34 Baikal, The Turks at Lake, 146 Bairam, Feast of, 44 Bajazet, 55, 174 Baker Pasha, Valentine, 140 Baldwin, 20, 116, 298 Balkan Peninsula, Peoples of the, 260 Baltaoghli, Admiral, 130 Balukli, Legend of the Monastery of, 258 Barbarossa, 19, 66, 161 Banat, The, 22 Basil "Bulgaroktonos," 115 Bathory, Stephan, 183 Bears in Roumania, 26 Beikos, 37 Bela I of Hungary, 160 Belgrade, 32, 181, 213 Benedictines, Order of, 159 Bentinck, Sir Thomas, 66 Beshiktash, 39 Bessarabia, Russia and, 25 Block-houses, System of, 110 Blue and Green Factions, 72 Bondelmontius, 50 Boniface IX, Pope, 175 Boris, King, 95 Bosnia, 222 Bosphorus, The, 29; temples, 30; Anatoli Kavak, 30; Roumeli Kavak, 30; the Kruli, 30; Scutari, 30; Goths, 30; Russians, 30; Genoese, 31; Venetians, 31; Giant's Mtn., 31; grave of Joshua, 31; Therapia, 37; Beikos, 37; Castles, 38; the Golden Horn, 39; Stamboul, 40; hospital at Scutari, 40 Brancovan of Wallachia, 23 Brancoviç, George, 182 Brigandage, 237 British and Turkish Empires, 156 Broussa, 163 Bucharest, 27; Treaty of, 283 Buda-Pesth, Capture of, 199 Bulgaria, 22; and Roumania, 27, 44; conquest by, 111; defeated by Basil, 115; defeat the Greeks, 136, 173, 236, 294 Büyük Chekmedje, Lake, 138 Byzantium, Foundation of, 41 Byzas, Founder of Byzantium, 40, 41 Caliphate, The, 97, 146 Calderon, Valley of, 196 Calo, John, 298 Camoens, 38 Candia, Capture of, 212 Candilli, The, 104 Cannon, Urban's, 127 Cantacuzene, 24 Cantomir of Moldavia, 23 Capistran, Johann, 78 Caraccioli, 205 Carlowitz, Treaty of, 216 Carmania, Prince of, 170 Carpathians, 20 Castles on the Bosphorus, 38 Cerestes, Battle at, 207 Cervantes, 205 Characteristics, National, 109 Charlemagne, 52 Chakir, 159 Chalcedon, 40; Council of, 86 Charles V, 56, 66, 198 Charles XII of Sweden, 217 Charles of Hohenzollern Sigmaringen, 25 Chatalja, 111, 136 Chavannes, 145 Chazars, Khan of the, 73 Cheironeia, Battle of, 263 Chinese and Turks, The, 145 Christians, Freedom of, 163 Chroseos, King of the Persians, 42 Chrysopolis, 30 Chrysostom, 60, 84 Cicala Pasha, 207 Clement VII, 173 Cracow, 19 Crimea, The, 42 Crum, King, 115 Crusades, The, 78, 161 Coeur-de-Lion, Richard, 161 Cologne Cathedral, 114 Comnena, Anna, 134 Comnenus, Manuel, 134 Colonies, Roman, 21 Columbus, 194 Constanza, 27 Constantine Copronymus, 114 Constantine, The Castle of, 42 Constantine XI, 184 Constantine the Great, 42, 80 Constantine, Prince, 93 Constantinople, a city of contrasts, 44; its buildings, 51; Seraglio, 51; seven hills, 51; beauties of, 51-2; streets, 121; capture of, 128, 178; siege of, 180; capture of, 185 Constantius, 50, 60 Convents, 95 Corvinus, Matthias, 193 Count of Flanders, The, 25 Courtesy of the Turk, 155 Cypresses, The, 124 Cyprus, Capture of, 204 Cyril, 95 Dacia Trajana, 20 Dacians, 20, 260 Damascus, 158 Dandolo, Doge, 43, 65 Danielis and Basil, 115 Danilo II, 288 Dashnaktsutian Secret Society, 270 Decebal, 21 Decebalus, King, 260 Dedo 'Mitri, 301 De Lisle, Adam, 199 Demosthenes, 42 Diarbekr, 197 Djem, Prince, Bajazet's brother, 192 Dobrutsha, Roumania and the, 25 Dogs, 103 Don Juan of Austria, 204 Doria, Andrea, 205 Doria, Admiral, 66 Druses of Lebanon, The, 206 Ducas, the Byzantine chronicler, 39 Dundas, Murder of, 163 Dürkö or Turk, 145 Ecbatana, 158 Edirné Kapou, 133, 152 Egri Kapou, The, 135 Elizabeth, Queen, 66, 205 Eudoxia, Empress, 84 Eugène, Prince, 216 Eutychius, 64 Eyub, Mosque of, 97 Famimit Caliphs, 160 Fauna of Roumania, 26 Ferdinand, Archduke, 200 Ferdinand the Catholic, 194 Ferdinand, King, 93, 120 Finns, 22; treatment of, by Ivan the Cruel, 204 Firaz Agha, 38 Fires, 106 Flanders, Counts of, as Emperors, 43 Forests of Roumania, 26 Francis I, 56, 199 Galata, 31, 39, 46 Galatz, 20 Gallipoli, Capture of, 170, 180 Gazi Hassan, 218 Gennodius, 54, 252 Genoese, The, 31; fleet of, in the Golden Horn, 39, 129, 169 Gepidi, The, 21, 264 Ghasi Fasil, 170 Ghaznevids of Afghanistan, 158 Ghevout, King, 267 Ghika, the cats'-meat man, 24 Ghoureha, or Foreign Horse, 165 Giant's Mtn., 31 Giougen, or Jwen-jwen, The, 145 Gipsies, The, 22, 132 Giustiniani, 131 Golden Gate, The, 113 Golden Horde, The, 162 Golden Horn, The, 39 Golubaç, 282 Goths, The, 21, 30, 110, 263 Grand Viziers, 210 Grant, Johannes, 134 Gratian, 114 Gratitude of the Turk, 154 Great Britain and Turkey, 121, 217 Greek Music, 244 Greek Orthodoxy, 54 Greek Patriarch, The, 236 Greeks, The, 43, 44; defeated by the Bulgarians, 13, 235, 238, 244 Gregory IV, 159 Gueshof, M., 95 Gutenberg, Meister, 193 Hadrian, 110 Haiasdan, 266 Halki or Khalki Hills, 52 "Hamidieh," The, 148 Hamals, 122 Haroun-al-Raschid, 159 Hasandshan, 198 Hassam Fehoni, Murder of, 227 Hassan, the Giant of Ulubad, 131 Hellenes, The, 233 Henry IV of Germany, 160 Henry VIII, 56 Heraclius, 114, 146 Heraklea, 30 Hermanstadt, 181 "Heroön," The, 102 Heruli, The, 30 Herzegovina, 222 Hieron, Straits of, 30 Hilmi Pasha, 227 Hippodrome, The, 63 Hiung-nu, The, 145 Hormisdas, Palace of, 116 Hospitality of the Turk, 156 Hospitals, 153 Humdi Bey, 51 Hungarians, 22, 264 Hungary, Invasion of, 176, 199 Huns, The, 21, 264 Hunyadi Janos, 23, 175, 181 Hussars, The, 166 Hussein, Grand Vizier, 216 Ibrahim, 209 Ibrahim or Kara Gehennin, 220 Ibrahim Pasha, 243 Ignatius, 91 Illyrians, The ancient, 260 Intellect of the Turk, 156 Invasion of Turkey, The, 231 Iranians, The, 145 Irene, Empress, 52 Iron Gates, The, 20 Isabella of Castile, 194 Isidore, Cardinal, 128 Islam, Advance of, 96, 147, 186 Ismail, Shah, 195 Issa, son of Bajazet, 179 Ivan the Terrible, 204 Janissaries, The, 74, 113, 203, 213, 216, 219 Japheth, Descent from, 143 Jenghiz Khan, 161 Jesuits, The, 198 Jews and Turks, 226 Joachim III, His Holiness, 251 John II of Portugal, 194 John V, Emperor, 169 John VII, 134 Joseph, Exarch of Bulgaria, 313 Joshua, The Mtn. of, 31 Julian, Cardinal, 182 Justin, 72; and the Turkish envoys, 146 Justinian and Theodora, 72 Kaim, Caliph, 160 Kanson-Ghauri, 197 Kapodistrias, M., First President of the Hellenes, 235 Kara George, 220 Kara Mustapha, Grand Vizier, 210, 212 Kemal-Reis, 194 Kerko Porta, The, 134 Kerkoud, Battle at, 218 Khairreddin Barbarossa, 66, 148, 201 Khaled, Arab general, 158 Khourrem, 56 Kiamil Pasha, 227 Kilia, Fort of, 30 Kirk Kilisse, Battle of, 315 Klephts, 238 Knjes Lazar, 23 Kochana Massacres, The, 231 Koepri Hissar, Attack on, 163 Koiridocastron, 169 Koran, The, 189 Korkoud, son of Bajazet, 195 Kossova, 23, 78; Battle of, 174 Kumani, The, 22 Kumanovo, Battle of, 315 Kunobitza, Mt., Victory at, 182 Kurdistan, 197 Kurds, The, 268 Kütshük Agia Sofia, 103 Ladislaus, King, 182 Lalashahin, General, 171 Lazar, King, 174 Lazarevitch, King Stephen, 174 Lemnos, 53 Leo X, Pope, 56 Leo the Isaurian, 57 Leonardo da Vinci, 194 Leontius, General, 73 Lepanto, 205 London, Conference in, 322 Louis of Hungary, King, 199 Lüle Burgas, Debacle of, 150 Luther, 90, 193 Lycus, Valley of the, 116, 127 Macchiavelli, 194 Magyars, 160, 213 Mahmoud I, 217 Mahmoud II, 220 Mahmud, Sultan, 159 Mahmud of Ghazin, 160 Mahpeiker, Sultana, 208 Malcolm III, 160 Mamelukes, The, 195 Manuel Palæologus, 178 Marble Tower, The, 112, 137 Marco Colonna, 204 Maritza, Valley of the, 120, 172 Marmora, Sea of, 53; Arabs on the, 146 Marsovan, The College of, 270 Massacre of Shiites, 56 Massacres of Armenians, 270 Massacres of Kotchana, 313 Masud, 160 Maximilian, Emperor, 204 Maximus, 113 Mazeppa, Hetman, 217 Medical organizations, 122 Medici, The, 193 Mediterranean, Solyman's successes in the, 201 Melik Shah, 161 Methodius, 95 Michael the Brave, 23 Michael Palæologus, 116 Mihrama, Mosque of, 133 Milan Obrenoviç, 285 Milosh Kabilovitch, 174 Milosh Obrenoviç, 222 Mohacz, Battle at, 199, 213 Mahommed the Conqueror, 43, 102 Mahommed the Conqueror, Sons of, 55 Mohammed I, 38 Mohammed II, 38, 113, 116, 184 Mohammed III, 206 Mohammed IV, 210 Mohammed V, 224 Mohammed, son of Amurath, 182 Mohammed, son of Bajazet, 179 Mohammed Kiüprilü, 210 Mohammed's plank road, 39 Moldavia, 20, 22 Mollahs and Imams, Influence of, 190 Mompseueste, Gates of, 113 Monasticism, 94 Monastir, Capture of, 290 Montenegrins, The, 44, 288 Morean Rebellion, 243 Morsiney, Elizabeth, 175 Moses of Koren, historian, 295 Moslems and Christians, 226 Mosques of Constantinople, 102 Mufti, The, 191 Murder a factor of Oriental policy, 55 Murder of unbelievers, The, 121 Musa, Prince, son of Bajazet, 178 Museum, The, 50 Mustapha II, 215 Mustapha the drunkard, 209 Mustapha the Pretender, 180 Mustapha, son of Suleiman, 56 Myrtché, Prince of Wallachia, 174 Mysore, The Maharajah of, 165 Nadir Derbena, Passes of, 173 Nadir, Shah, 218 Nasreddin Effendi, Stories of, 141 Navarino, 221, 243 Navy, Roumania's, 27; Turkish, 37, 148, 218 Nemanya, The House of, 279 Niazi Bey, 227 Nicæa, 83; Council of, 57; capture of, 166 Nicephorus Phocas, 52, 67, 113 Nicholas I, Pope, 92 Nicholas of Montenegro, 287 Nicopolis, Siege of, 176 Nightingale, Florence, her hospital, 40 Nissa, Capture of, 172 Nomad Turks, 158 Odenatus, 30 Officers, Turkish, 149 Oglou, Michael, 200 Oil-fields in Roumania, 27 Omar, 55, 158 Orchan, son of Othman, 97, 163, 166 Orsova, 20 Orthodox Greek Church, The, 25, 238 Osman Pasha, 25 Othman, 55, 97, 162 Othman's Scimitar, 164 Othman II, 208 Oulou Jedji, The, 165 Ouloudjé, Admiral, 205 Palace of the Porphyrogenitus, 133 Palæologi, The, 116 Paris, Convention of, 24 Parker, E. H., 145 Parthians, The, 261 Passarowitz, Peace of, 217 Passvan Oglou of Vidin, 224 Patriarch, Armenian, 86 Patriarch, Greek, 54 Pausanias, 50 Pehlevan (Mohammed I), 179 Peloponese, The, 234 Pentecost, Feast of, 44 Persia and the Arabs, 146 Persians, The, 42 Peter, Bishop, 83 Peter the Great of Russia, 23, 217 Peterwardein, Battle at, 213 Petroviç, George, 283 Petschenegs, The, 22 Phanar, The, 89 Philip of Macedon, 42 Photius, 91 Pialé the Croat, 201 "Pleureuses, Les," 50 Plevna, 25 Poland, War with, 208 Polish Jews and Austrian railway carriages, 19 Pope Alexander Borgia, 55 Pravadi, Capture of, 174 Prince's Islands, The, 41 Prinkipo Island, 52 Printing press, The, 193 Proverbs, 142 Pruth, 23; Battle on the, 217 Przemysl, 19 Pultowa, 217 Pydna, Battle of, 263 Raab, Battle on the, 211 Radoïl, 305 Railway carriages, Austrian, 19 Rassia, 279 Red Crescent, The, 50, 122 Refugees, Turkish, 71, 120 Rhodes, The Knights of, 193 Riches of Roumania, 26 Robert College, 95, 297 Rodosto, 149 Roe, Sir Thomas, 208 Roland the Paladin, 52 Roman Legionaries, The, 21 Roman Pontiff, Influence of the, 91 Romanies, 22 Romanus II, 31, 67 Romanus IV, Defeat of, 160 Roumania and Austria, 25; richness of, 26; fauna, 26; Bucharest, 27; its position of danger, 27; oilfields, 27; navy, 27; Constanza army, 27 Roumanian railways, 19 Roumanians, Descent of the, 21 Roumeli Hissar, 38 Roumeli Kavak, 30 Roxalana, 56 Russian influence, 241 Russians, The, 30, 43 Safiyé, Sultana, 205 St. Bacchus, 103 St. Diomed, Monastery of, 115 St. George, Church of, 133 St. George of Mangane, 95 St. Gothardt, Monastery of, 211 St. Gregory the Illuminator, 266 St. Irene, Church of, 57 St. Michael the Archangel, Church of, 31 St. Romanus, Gate of, 129 St. Sergius, 103 St. Sophia, Mosque of, 55, 60, 131 San Stefano, 137, 150; Conference at, 25 St. Ursula, 114 Saladin, 161 Sala Mustapha, 204 Salm, Count, 201 Samakov, 305 Samanid Dynasty, The, 159 Samarkand, 177 Sanjaks, 191 Saracens, The, 96 Sarcophagi, Beautiful, 50 Sava Savof, General, 294 Saxons in Turkey, 135 Scanderbeg the Albanian, 183 School of Art, The, 51 Scutari, 30, 288; Hospital at, 40; The Pasha of, 224 Scythians, 20, 261 Seadeddin, historian, 172 Segrud, 63 Selim, son of Bajazet, 195 Selim I, 55 Selim II, 57, 203 Selim III, 219 Seljuk Dynasty, The, 159 Semendria, 32, 282 Seraglio, The, 51 Seraglio Point, 39, 41 Seraskierat, The, 153 Serbs, The, 23, 236 Serpents, Bronze, 71 Servia, 44, 174, 183 Servian Army, The, 286, 289, 292 Seven Hills of Constantinople, The, 51 Seven Ionian Islands, The, 242 Severus, 113 Sheikh-ul-Islam, The, 51 Shias, The, 195 Shiites, The, 55 Shinitza, The, 174 Shio, Battle of, 218 Shumla, Surrender of, 173 Sigismund, King of Hungary, 175 Silihdar, Horse of Mysore, The, 165 Simeon, son of Boris, 95 Simeon, Tsar, 136, 297 Sisvan, King, 172 Sitvatorok, Peace of, 207 Slankamen, Battle at, 214 Slavs, 22, 235, 264, 277 Smederovo, 195 Sobieski, 213 Sokoli, Grand Vizier, 204 Soldiers, Wounded, 49 Solyman, 169, 198 Solyman, son of Bajazet, 178 Solyman II, 213 Songs, 142 Spahis, The, 165 Spartans, The, 42 Spy, A suspected, 32, 34 Stahremberg, Count, 213 Stamboul, 40 Stenia, 31 Stephan Dushan, 23 Stephen, Zupan of East Servia, 279 Styria, Invasion of, 176 Sublime Porte, The, 49, 157 Suleiman, 56 Sultan Oeni, 160 Sunnis, The, 195 Sutri, Council of, 160 Sutton, Sir Robert, 217 Sword of Othman, The, 98 Szeggedin, Treaty of, 182 Szigath, Siege of, 202 Tabriz, 196 Tamerlane, 22, 176 Tartars, 22 Telegraph, Effect of the, 224 Temesvar, Battle at, 216 Temples on the Bosphorus, 30 Theodora, 169 Theodoric, 72 Theodosius, Fortress of, 113 Theodosius, Wall of, 39, 111 Theodosius I, 80 Theodosius II, 50, 60, 85, 127 Theophane, 67 Theophanes, 31 Theophilus, 50, 84, 115 Therapia, 37 Thracians, 20, 260 Thogrul, 159 Tiridales, 266 Tirnova, Capture of, 173 Tobacco, Introduction of, 207 Topal Osman, General, 217 Top Kapousi, 119 Towers on the city walls, 113, 119 Trajan, 20 Trajan's Wall, 27 Transylvania, 22 Trebizond, 42 Tsarigrad, 93 Tsars of Muscovy, The, 204 Tshelebi (Mohammed I), 179 Tsigani, The, 22 Turkish soldiers, 58 Turks, The rise of the, 97 Turn Severin, 21 Ukraine, Turks defeated in the, 212 Urban, The Hungarian, 127 Urban, Pope, 96 Urban V, Pope, 171 Urban VI, Pope, 173 Üsküb, 93 Urudsh, 66 Valens, 80 Validé, Sultana, 210 Valideh, Mosque of, 46 Varangians, The, 135 Varna, 148; Battle near, 182 Vasag, 181 Vasco da Gama, 194 "Vatan," 226 Venetians in the Bosphorus, 31 Venice, 31; fleet of, in the Golden Horn, 32; Doge Dandolo, 43, 169 Veniero, Admiral, 205 Veterani, Austrian General, 215 Vidin, 25 Vienna, Siege of, 212 Vilayets, The, 224 Vlachs, The, 265, 274 Vladikas, The, 287 Voivods, 23 Von der Gotz, Field-Marshal, 286 Von Moltke, Count, 221 Vuk Brancoviç, 181 Wallachia, 22 Walls, The city, 111 Walls of Theodosius, 116 Warships on the Bosphorus, Foreign, 40 Western women as nurses, 154 Wild cat in Roumania, The, 27 William of Normandy, 160 Wittekind, Duke of the Saxons, 52 Yedi Koulé, 112 Yermak the Cossack, 204 Yoglan Bey, 176 Young Turks, The, 227 Ypsilanti, Alexander, 343 Zapolya, 200 Zimisces, John, 67, 116 Zizimes, 55 PRINTED BY WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD. PLYMOUTH A Catalogue of Books on Art, History, and General Literature Published by Seeley & Co Ltd 38 Great Russell Street, London _Some of the Contents_ Elzevir Library 5 Events of Our Own Times Series 6 Miniature Library of Devotion 9 Miniature Portfolio Monographs 10 New Art Library 11 Portfolio Monographs 12 Science of To-Day Series 14 Seeley's Illustrated Pocket Library 14 Seeley's Standard Library 15 Things Seen Series 16 _The Publishers will be pleased to post their complete Catalogue or their Illustrated Miniature Catalogue on receipt of a post-card_ CATALOGUE OF BOOKS _Arranged alphabetically under the names of Authors and Series_ ABBOTT, Rev. E. A., D.D. =Hints on Home Teaching.= Crown 8vo, 3s. =How to Parse.= An English Grammar. Fcap. 8vo, 3s. 6d. =How to Tell the Parts of Speech.= An Introduction to English Grammar. Fcap. 8vo, 2s. =How to Write Clearly.= Rules and Exercises on English Composition. 1s. 6d. =Latin Gate, The.= A First Latin Translation Book. Crown 8vo, 3s, 6d. =Via Latina.= A First Latin Grammar. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. ABBOTT, Rev. E. A., and Sir J. R. SEELEY. =English Lessons for English People.= Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. ADY, Mrs. _See_ CARTWRIGHT, JULIA. À KEMPIS, THOMAS. =Of the Imitation of Christ.= With Illuminated Frontispiece and Title Page, and Illuminated Sub-Titles to each book. In white or blue cloth, with inset miniatures. Gilt top; crown 8vo, 6s. nett; also in vellum, 10s. 6d. nett. "It may well be questioned whether the great work of Thomas à Kempis has ever been presented to better advantage."--_The Guardian._ ALLDRIDGE, T. J., I.S.O., F.R.G.S. =A Transformed Colony.= Sierra Leone as it was and as it is. With Sixty-six Illustrations and a Map. Demy 8vo, 16s. nett. ANDERSON, Prof. W. =Japanese Wood Engravings.= Coloured Illustrations. Super-royal 8vo, sewed, 2s. 6d. nett; half-linen, 3s. 6d. nett; also small 4to, cloth, 2s. nett; lambskin, 3s. nett. ARMSTRONG, Sir WALTER. =The Art of Velazquez.= Illustrated. 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Extra crown 8vo, 5s. * * * * * Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: Sheik-ul-Islam=> Sheikh-ul-Islam {pg 51} apellation=> appellation {pg 83} inpaled=> impaled {pg 130} posessions=> possessions {pg 172} sucessful=> successful {pg 173} Kansou-Ghawri=> Kanson-Ghauri {pg 197 x 2} Safiye=> Safiyé {pg 205, 206} Heraklia, 30=> Heraklea, 30 {pg 331} Mahommed, son of Bajazet, 179=> Mohammed, son of Bajazet, 179 {pg 333} 
11716	----	THE BALKANS A HISTORY OF BULGARIA--SERBIA--GREECE--RUMANIA--TURKEY THE BALKANS A HISTORY OF BULGARIA--SERBIA--GREECE--RUMANIA--TURKEY BY NEVILL FORBES, ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE, D. MITRANY, D.G. HOGARTH PREFACE The authors of this volume have not worked in conjunction. Widely separated, engaged on other duties, and pressed for time, we have had no opportunity for interchange of views. Each must be held responsible, therefore, for his own section alone. If there be any discrepancies in our writings (it is not unlikely in so disputed a field of history) we can only regret an unfortunate result of the circumstances. Owing to rapid change in the relations of our country to the several Balkan peoples, the tone of a section written earlier may differ from that of another written later. It may be well to state that the sections on Serbia and Bulgaria were finished before the decisive Balkan developments of the past two months. Those on Greece and Rumania represent only a little later stage of the evolution. That on Turkey, compiled between one mission abroad and another, was the latest to be finished. If our sympathies are not all the same, or given equally to friends and foes, none of us would find it possible to indite a Hymn of Hate about any Balkan people. Every one of these peoples, on whatever side he be fighting to-day, has a past worthy of more than our respect and interwoven in some intimate way with our history. That any one of them is arrayed against us to-day is not to be laid entirely or chiefly at its own door. They are all fine peoples who have not obtained their proper places in the sun. The best of the Osmanli nation, the Anatolian peasantry, has yet to make its physical and moral qualities felt under civilized conditions. As for the rest--the Serbs and the Bulgars, who have enjoyed brief moments of barbaric glory in their past, have still to find themselves in that future which shall be to the Slav. The Greeks, who were old when we were not as yet, are younger now than we. They are as incalculable a factor in a political forecast as another Chosen Race, the Jews. Their past is the world's glory: the present in the Near East is theirs more than any people's: the future--despite the laws of corporate being and decline, dare we say they will have no part in it? Of Rumania what are we to think? Her mixed people has had the start of the Balkan Slavs in modern civilization, and evidently her boundaries must grow wider yet. But the limits of her possible expansion are easier to set than those of the rest. We hope we have dealt fairly with all these peoples. Mediaeval history, whether of the East or the West, is mostly a record of bloodshedding and cruelty; and the Middle Age has been prolonged to our own time in most parts of the Balkans, and is not yet over in some parts. There are certain things salutary to bear in mind when we think or speak of any part of that country to-day. First, that less than two hundred years ago, England had its highwaymen on all roads, and its smuggler dens and caravans, Scotland its caterans, and Ireland its moonlighters. Second, that religious fervour has rarely mitigated and generally increased our own savagery. Thirdly, that our own policy in Balkan matters has been none too wise, especially of late. In permitting the Treaty of Bucarest three years ago, we were parties to making much of the trouble that has ensued, and will ensue again. If we have not been able to write about the Near East under existing circumstances altogether _sine ira et studio_, we have tried to remember that each of its peoples has a case. D.G. HOGARTH. _November_, 1915. CONTENTS BULGARIA AND SERBIA. By NEVILL FORBES. 1. Introductory 2. The Balkan Peninsula in Classical Times 400 B.C. - A.D. 500 3. The Arrival of the Slavs in the Balkan Peninsula, A.D. 500-650 BULGARIA. 4. The Arrival of the Bulgars in the Balkan Peninsula, 600-700 5. The Early Years of Bulgaria and the Introduction of Christianity, 700-893 6. The Rise and Fall of the First Bulgarian Empire, 893-972 7. The Rise and Fall of 'Western Bulgaria' and the Greek Supremacy, 963-1186 8. The Rise and Fall of the Second Bulgarian Empire, 1186-1258 9. The Serbian Supremacy and the Final Collapse, 1258-1393 10. The Turkish Dominion and the Emancipation, 1393-1878 11. The Aftermath, and Prince Alexander of Battenberg, 1878-86 12. The Regeneration under Prince Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg, 1886-1908 13. The Kingdom, 1908-13 SERBIA. 14. The Serbs under Foreign Supremacy, 650-1168 15. The Rise and Fall of the Serbian Empire and the Extinction of Serbian Independence, 1168-1496 16. The Turkish Dominion, 1496-1796 17. The Liberation of Serbia under Kara-George (1804-13) and Milo[)s] Obrenovi['c] (1815-30): 1796-1830 18. The Throes of Regeneration: Independent Serbia, 1830-1903 19. Serbia, Montenegro, and the Serbo-Croats in Austria-Hungary, 1903-8 20. Serbia and Montenegro, and the two Balkan Wars, 1908-13 GREECE. By ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE. 1. From Ancient to Modern Greece 2. The Awakening of the Nation 3. The Consolidation of the State RUMANIA: HER HISTORY AND POLITICS. By D. MITRANY 1. Introduction 2. Formation of the Rumanian Nation 3. The Foundation and Development of the Rumanian Principalities 4. The Phanariote Rule 5. Modern Period to 1866 6. Contemporary Period: Internal Development 7. Contemporary Period: Foreign Affairs 8. Rumania and the Present War TURKEY. By D. G. HOGARTH 1. Origin of the Osmanlis 2. Expansion of the Osmanli Kingdom 3. Heritage and Expansion of the Byzantine Empire 4. Shrinkage and Retreat 5. Revival 6. Relapse 7. Revolution 8. The Balkan War 9. The Future INDEX MAPS The Balkan Peninsula: Ethnological The Balkan Peninsula The Ottoman Empire BULGARIA AND SERBIA 1 _Introductory_ The whole of what may be called the trunk or _massif_ of the Balkan peninsula, bounded on the north by the rivers Save and Danube, on the west by the Adriatic, on the east by the Black Sea, and on the south by a very irregular line running from Antivari (on the coast of the Adriatic) and the lake of Scutari in the west, through lakes Okhrida and Prespa (in Macedonia) to the outskirts of Salonika and thence to Midia on the shores of the Black Sea, following the coast of the Aegean Sea some miles inland, is preponderatingly inhabited by Slavs. These Slavs are the Bulgarians in the east and centre, the Serbs and Croats (or Serbians and Croatians or Serbo-Croats) in the west, and the Slovenes in the extreme north-west, between Trieste and the Save; these nationalities compose the southern branch of the Slavonic race. The other inhabitants of the Balkan peninsula are, to the south of the Slavs, the Albanians in the west, the Greeks in the centre and south, and the Turks in the south-east, and, to the north, the Rumanians. All four of these nationalities are to be found in varying quantities within the limits of the Slav territory roughly outlined above, but greater numbers of them are outside it; on the other hand, there are a considerable number of Serbs living north of the rivers Save and Danube, in southern Hungary. Details of the ethnic distribution and boundaries will of course be gone into more fully later; meanwhile attention may be called to the significant fact that the name of Macedonia, the heart of the Balkan peninsula, has been long used by the French gastronomers to denote a dish, the principal characteristic of which is that its component parts are mixed up into quite inextricable confusion. Of the three Slavonic nationalities already mentioned, the two first, the Bulgarians and the Serbo-Croats, occupy a much greater space, geographically and historically, than the third. The Slovenes, barely one and a half million in number, inhabiting the Austrian provinces of Carinthia and Carniola, have never been able to form a political state, though, with the growth of Trieste as a great port and the persistent efforts of Germany to make her influence if not her flag supreme on the shores of the Adriatic, this small people has from its geographical position and from its anti-German (and anti-Italian) attitude achieved considerable notoriety and some importance. Of the Bulgars and Serbs it may be said that at the present moment the former control the eastern, and the latter, in alliance with the Greeks, the western half of the peninsula. It has always been the ambition of each of these three nationalities to dominate the whole, an ambition which has caused endless waste of blood and money and untold misery. If the question were to be settled purely on ethnical considerations, Bulgaria would acquire the greater part of the interior of Macedonia, the most numerous of the dozen nationalities of which is Bulgarian in sentiment if not in origin, and would thus undoubtedly attain the hegemony of the peninsula, while the centre of gravity of the Serbian nation would, as is ethnically just, move north-westwards. Political considerations, however, have until now always been against this solution of the difficulty, and, even if it solved in this sense, there would still remain the problem of the Greek nationality, whose distribution along all the coasts of the Aegean, both European and Asiatic, makes a delimitation of the Greek state on purely ethnical lines virtually impossible. It is curious that the Slavs, though masters of the interior of the peninsula and of parts of its eastern and western coasts, have never made the shores of the Aegean (the White Sea, as they call it) or the cities on them their own. The Adriatic is the only sea on the shore of which any Slavonic race has ever made its home. In view of this difficulty, namely, the interior of the peninsula being Slavonic while the coastal fringe is Greek, and of the approximately equal numerical strength of all three nations, it is almost inevitable that the ultimate solution of the problem and delimitation of political boundaries will have to be effected by means of territorial compromise. It can only be hoped that this ultimate compromise will be agreed upon by the three countries concerned, and will be more equitable than that which was forced on them by Rumania in 1913 and laid down in the Treaty of Bucarest of that year. If no arrangement on a principle of give and take is made between them, the road to the East, which from the point of view of the Germanic powers lies through Serbia, will sooner or later inevitably be forced open, and the independence, first of Serbia, Montenegro, and Albania, and later of Bulgaria and Greece, will disappear, _de facto_ if not in appearance, and both materially and morally they will become the slaves of the central empires. If the Balkan League could be reconstituted, Germany and Austria would never reach Salonika or Constantinople. 2 _The Balkan Peninsula in Classical Times_ 400 B.C. - A.D. 500. In the earlier historical times the whole of the eastern part of the Balkan peninsula between the Danube and the Aegean was known as Thracia, while the western part (north of the forty-first degree of latitude) was termed Illyricum; the lower basin of the river Vardar (the classical Axius) was called Macedonia. A number of the tribal and personal names of the early Illyrians and Thracians have been preserved. Philip of Macedonia subdued Thrace in the fourth century B.C. and in 342 founded the city of Philippopolis. Alexander's first campaign was devoted to securing control of the peninsula, but during the Third century B.C. Thrace was invaded from the north and laid waste by the Celts, who had already visited Illyria. The Celts vanished by the end of that century, leaving a few place-names to mark their passage. The city of Belgrade was known until the seventh century A.D. by its Celtic name of Singidunum. Naissus, the modern Nish, is also possibly of Celtic origin. It was towards 230 B.C. that Rome came into contact with Illyricum, owing to the piratical proclivities of its inhabitants, but for a long time it only controlled the Dalmatian coast, so called after the Delmati or Dalmati, an Illyrian tribe. The reason for this was the formidable character of the mountains of Illyria, which run in several parallel and almost unbroken lines the whole length of the shore of the Adriatic and have always formed an effective barrier to invasion from the west. The interior was only very gradually subdued by the Romans after Macedonia had been occupied by them in 146 B.C. Throughout the first century B.C. conflicts raged with varying fortune between the invaders and all the native races living between the Adriatic and the Danube. They were attacked both from Aquileia in the north and from Macedonia in the south, but it was not till the early years of our era that the Danube became the frontier of the Roman Empire. In the year A.D. 6 Moesia, which included a large part of the modern kingdom of Serbia and the northern half of that of Bulgaria between the Danube and the Balkan range (the classical Haemus), became an imperial province, and twenty years later Thrace, the country between the Balkan range and the Aegean, was incorporated in the empire, and was made a province by the Emperor Claudius in A.D. 46. The province of Illyricum or Dalmatia stretched between the Save and the Adriatic, and Pannonia lay between the Danube and the Save. In 107 A.D. the Emperor Trajan conquered the Dacians beyond the lower Danube, and organized a province of Dacia out of territory roughly equivalent to the modern Wallachia and Transylvania, This trans-Danubian territory did not remain attached to the empire for more than a hundred and fifty years; but within the river line a vast belt of country, stretching from the head of the Adriatic to the mouths of the Danube on the Black Sea, was Romanized through and through. The Emperor Trajan has been called the Charlemagne of the Balkan peninsula; all remains are attributed to him (he was nicknamed the Wallflower by Constantine the Great), and his reign marked the zenith of Roman power in this part of the world. The Balkan peninsula enjoyed the benefits of Roman civilization for three centuries, from the first to the fourth, but from the second century onwards the attitude of the Romans was defensive rather than offensive. The war against the Marcomanni under the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, in the second half of this century, was the turning-point. Rome was still victorious, but no territory was added to the empire. The third century saw the southward movement of the Germanic peoples, who took the place of the Celts. The Goths invaded the peninsula, and in 251 the Emperor Decius was killed in battle against them near Odessus on the Black Sea (the modern Varna). The Goths reached the outskirts of Thessalonica (Salonika), but were defeated by the Emperor Claudius at Naissus (Nish) in 269; shortly afterwards, however, the Emperor Aurelian had definitively to relinquish Dacia to them. The Emperor Diocletian, a native of Dalmatia, who reigned from 284 to 305, carried out a redistribution of the imperial provinces. Pannonia and western Illyria, or Dalmatia, were assigned to the prefecture of Italy, Thrace to that of the Orient, while the whole centre of the peninsula, from the Danube to the Peloponnese, constituted the prefecture of Illyria, with Thessalonica as capital. The territory to the north of the Danube having been lost, what is now western Bulgaria was renamed Dacia, while Moesia, the modern kingdom of Serbia, was made very much smaller. Praevalis, or the southern part of Dalmatia, approximately the modern Montenegro and Albania, was detached from that province and added to the prefecture of Illyria. In this way the boundary between the province of Dalmatia and the Balkan peninsula proper ran from near the lake of Scutari in the south to the river Drinus (the modern Drina), whose course it followed till the Save was reached in the north. An event of far-reaching importance in the following century was the elevation by Constantine the Great of the Greek colony of Byzantium into the imperial city of Constantinople in 325. This century also witnessed the arrival of the Huns in Europe from Asia. They overwhelmed the Ostrogoths, between the Dnieper and the Dniester, in 375, and the Visigoths, settled in Transylvania and the modern Rumania, moved southwards in sympathy with this event. The Emperor Valens lost his life fighting against these Goths in 378 at the great battle of Adrianople (a city established in Thrace by the Emperor Hadrian in the second century). His successor, the Emperor Theodosius, placated them with gifts and made them guardians of the northern frontier, but at his death, in 395, they overran and devastated the entire peninsula, after which they proceeded to Italy. After the death of the Emperor Theodosius the empire was divided, never to be joined into one whole again. The dividing line followed that, already mentioned, which separated the prefecture of Italy from those of Illyria and the Orient, that is to say, it began in the south, on the shore of the Adriatic near the Bocche di Cattaro, and went due north along the valley of the Drina till the confluence of that river with the Save. It will be seen that this division had consequences which have lasted to the present day. Generally speaking, the Western Empire was Latin in language and character, while the Eastern was Greek, though owing to the importance of the Danubian provinces to Rome from the military point of view, and the lively intercourse maintained between them, Latin influence in them was for a long time stronger than Greek. Its extent is proved by the fact that the people of modern Rumania are partly, and their language very largely, defended from those of the legions and colonies of the Emperor Trajan. Latin influence, shipping, colonization, and art were always supreme on the eastern shores of the Adriatic, just as were those of Greece on the shores of the Black Sea. The Albanians even, descendants of the ancient Illyrians, were affected by the supremacy of the Latin language, from which no less than a quarter of their own meagre vocabulary is derived; though driven southwards by the Romans and northwards by the Greeks, they have remained in their mountain fastnesses to this day, impervious to any of the civilizations to which they have been exposed. Christianity spread to the shores of the peninsula very early; Macedonia and Dalmatia were the parts where it was first established, and it took some time to penetrate into the interior. During the reign of Diocletian numerous martyrs suffered for the faith in the Danubian provinces, but with the accession of Constantine the Great persecution came to an end. As soon, however, as the Christians were left alone, they started persecuting each other, and during the fourth century the Arian controversy re-echoed throughout the peninsula. In the fifth century the Huns moved from the shores of the Black Sea to the plains of the Danube and the Theiss; they devastated the Balkan peninsula, in spite of the tribute which they had levied on Constantinople in return for their promise of peace. After the death of Attila, in 453, they again retreated to Asia, and during the second half of the century the Goths were once more supreme in the peninsula. Theodoric occupied Singidunum (Belgrade) in 471 and, after plundering Macedonia and Greece, settled in Novae (the modern Svishtov), on the lower Danube, in 483, where he remained till he transferred the sphere of his activities to Italy ten years later. Towards the end of the fifth century Huns of various kinds returned to the lower Danube and devastated the peninsula several times, penetrating as far as Epirus and Thessaly. 3 _The Arrival of the Slavs in the Balkan Peninsula_, A.D. 500-650 The Balkan peninsula, which had been raised to a high level of security and prosperity during the Roman dominion, gradually relapsed into barbarism as a result of these endless invasions; the walled towns, such as Salonika and Constantinople, were the only safe places, and the country became waste and desolate. The process continued unabated throughout the three following centuries, and one is driven to one of two conclusions, either that these lands must have possessed very extraordinary powers of recuperation to make it worth while for invaders to pillage them so frequently, or, what is more probable, there can have been after some time little left to plunder, and consequently the Byzantine historians' accounts of enormous drives of prisoners and booty are much exaggerated. It is impossible to count the number of times the tide of invasion and devastation swept southwards over the unfortunate peninsula. The emperors and their generals did what they could by means of defensive works on the frontiers, of punitive expeditions, and of trying to set the various hordes of barbarians at loggerheads with each other, but, as they had at the same time to defend an empire which stretched from Armenia to Spain, it is not surprising that they were not more successful. The growing riches of Constantinople and Salonika had an irresistible attraction for the wild men from the east and north, and unfortunately the Greek citizens were more inclined to spend their energy in theological disputes and their leisure in the circus than to devote either the one or the other to the defence of their country. It was only by dint of paying them huge sums of money that the invaders were kept away from the coast. The departure of the Huns and the Goths had made the way for fresh series of unwelcome visitors. In the sixth century the Slavs appear for the first time. From their original homes which were immediately north of the Carpathians, in Galicia and Poland, but may also have included parts of the modern Hungary, they moved southwards and south-eastwards. They were presumably in Dacia, north of the Danube, in the previous century, but they are first mentioned as having crossed that river during the reign of the Emperor Justin I (518-27). They were a loosely-knit congeries of tribes without any single leader or central authority; some say they merely possessed the instinct of anarchy, others that they were permeated with the ideals of democracy. What is certain is that amongst them neither leadership nor initiative was developed, and that they lacked both cohesion and organisation. The Eastern Slavs, the ancestors of the Russians, were only welded into anything approaching unity by the comparatively much smaller number of Scandinavian (Varangian) adventurers who came and took charge of their affairs at Kiev. Similarly the Southern Slavs were never of themselves able to form a united community, conscious of its aim and capable of persevering in its attainment. The Slavs did not invade the Balkan peninsula alone but in the company of the Avars, a terrible and justly dreaded nation, who, like the Huns, were of Asiatic (Turkish or Mongol) origin. These invasions became more frequent during the reign of the Emperor Justinian I (527-65), and culminated in 559 in a great combined attack of all the invaders on Constantinople under a certain Zabergan, which was brilliantly defeated by the veteran Byzantine general Belisarius. The Avars were a nomad tribe, and the horse was their natural means of locomotion. The Slavs, on the other hand, moved about on foot, and seem to have been used as infantry by the more masterful Asiatics in their warlike expeditions. Generally speaking, the Avars, who must have been infinitely less numerous than the Slavs, were settled in Hungary, where Attila and the Huns had been settled a little more than a century previously; that is to say, they were north of the Danube, though they were always overrunning into Upper Moesia, the modern Serbia. The Slavs, whose numbers were without doubt very large, gradually settled all over the country south of the Danube, the rural parts of which, as a result of incessant invasion and retreat, had become waste and empty. During the second half of the sixth century all the military energies of Constantinople were diverted to Persia, so that the invaders of the Balkan peninsula had the field very much to themselves. It was during this time that the power of the Avars reached its height. They were masters of all the country up to the walls of Adrianople and Salonika, though they did not settle there. The peninsula seems to have been colonized by Slavs, who penetrated right down into Greece; but the Avars were throughout this time, both in politics and in war, the directing and dominating force. During another Persian war, which broke out in 622 and entailed the prolonged absence of the emperor from Constantinople, the Avars, not satisfied with the tribute extorted from the Greeks, made an alliance against them with the Persians, and in 626 collected a large army of Slavs and Asiatics and attacked Constantinople both by land and sea from the European side, while the Persians threatened it from Asia. But the walls of the city and the ships of the Greeks proved invincible, and, quarrels breaking out between the Slavs and the Avars, both had to save themselves in ignominious and precipitate retreat. After this nothing more was heard of the Avars in the Balkan peninsula, though their power was only finally crushed by Charlemagne in 799. In Russia their downfall became proverbial, being crystallized in the saying, 'they perished like Avars'. The Slavs, on the other hand, remained. Throughout these stormy times their penetration of the Balkan peninsula had been peacefully if unostentatiously proceeding; by the middle of the seventh century it was complete. The main streams of Slavonic immigration moved southwards and westwards. The first covered the whole of the country between the Danube and the Balkan range, overflowed into Macedonia, and filtered down into Greece. Southern Thrace in the east and Albania in the west were comparatively little affected, and in these districts the indigenous population maintained itself. The coasts of the Aegean and the great cities on or near them were too strongly held by the Greeks to be affected, and those Slavs who penetrated into Greece itself were soon absorbed by the local populations. The still stronger Slavonic stream, which moved westwards and turned up north-westwards, overran the whole country down to the shores of the Adriatic and as far as the sources of the Save and Drave in the Alps. From that point in the west to the shores of the Black Sea in the east became one solid mass of Slavs, and has remained so ever since. The few Slavs who were left north of the Danube in Dacia were gradually assimilated by the inhabitants of that province, who were the descendants of the Roman soldiers and colonists, and the ancestors of the modern Rumanians, but the fact that Slavonic influence there was strong is shown by the large number of words of Slavonic origin contained in the Rumanian language. [Illustration: THE BALKAN PENINSULA ETHNOLOGICAL] Place-names are a good index of the extent and strength of the tide of Slav immigration. All along the coast, from the mouth of the Danube to the head of the Adriatic, the Greek and Roman names have been retained though places have often been given alternative names by the Slavonic settlers. Thrace, especially the south-eastern part, and Albania have the fewest Slavonic place-names. In Macedonia and Lower Moesia (Bulgaria) very few classical names have survived, while in Upper Moesia (Serbia) and the interior of Dalmatia (Bosnia, Hercegovina, and Montenegro) they have entirely disappeared. The Slavs themselves, though their tribal names were known, were until the ninth century usually called collectively S(k)lavini ([Greek: Sklabaenoi]) by the Greeks, and all the inland parts of the peninsula were for long termed by them 'the S(k)lavonias' ([Greek: Sklabiniai]). During the seventh century, dating from the defeat of the Slavs and Avars before the walls of Constantinople in 626 and the final triumph of the emperor over the Persians in 628, the influence and power of the Greeks began to reassert itself throughout the peninsula as far north as the Danube; this process was coincident with the decline of the might of the Avars. It was the custom of the astute Byzantine diplomacy to look on and speak of lands which had been occupied by the various barbarian invaders as grants made to them through the generosity of the emperor; by this means, by dint also of lavishing titles and substantial incomes to the invaders' chiefs, by making the most of their mutual jealousies, and also by enlisting regiments of Slavonic mercenaries in the imperial armies, the supremacy of Constantinople was regained far more effectively than it could have been by the continual and exhausting use of force. BULGARIA 4 _The Arrival of the Bulgars in the Balkan Peninsula,_ 600-700 The progress of the Bulgars towards the Balkan peninsula, and indeed all their movements until their final establishment there in the seventh century, are involved in obscurity. They are first mentioned by name in classical and Armenian sources in 482 as living in the steppes to the north of the Black Sea amongst other Asiatic tribes, and it has been assumed by some that at the end of the fifth and throughout the sixth century they were associated first with the Huns and later with the Avars and Slavs in the various incursions into and invasions of the eastern empire which have already been enumerated. It is the tendency of Bulgarian historians, who scornfully point to the fact that the history of Russia only dates from the ninth century, to exaggerate the antiquity of their own and to claim as early a date as possible for the authentic appearance of their ancestors on the kaleidoscopic stage of the Balkan theatre. They are also unwilling to admit that they were anticipated by the Slavs; they prefer to think that the Slavs only insinuated themselves there thanks to the energy of the Bulgars' offensive against the Greeks, and that as soon as the Bulgars had leisure to look about them they found all the best places already occupied by the anarchic Slavs. Of course it is very difficult to say positively whether Bulgars were or were not present in the welter of Asiatic nations which swept westwards into Europe with little intermission throughout the fifth and sixth centuries, but even if they were, they do not seem to have settled down as early as that anywhere south of the Danube; it seems certain that they did not do so until the seventh century, and therefore that the Slavs were definitely installed in the Balkan peninsula a whole century before the Bulgars crossed the Danube for good. The Bulgars, like the Huns and the Avars who preceded them, and like the Magyars and the Turks who followed them, were a tribe from eastern Asia, of the stock known as Mongol or Tartar. The tendency of all these peoples was to move westwards from Asia into Europe, and this they did at considerable and irregular intervals, though in alarming and apparently inexhaustible numbers, roughly from the fourth till the fourteenth centuries. The distance was great, but the journey, thanks to the flat, grassy, treeless, and well-watered character of the steppes of southern Russia which they had to cross, was easy. They often halted for considerable periods by the way, and some never moved further westwards than Russia. Thus at one time the Bulgars settled in large numbers on the Volga, near its confluence with the Kama, and it is presumed that they were well established there in the fifth century. They formed a community of considerable strength and importance, known as Great or White Bulgaria. These Bulgars fused with later Tartar immigrants from Asia and eventually were consolidated into the powerful kingdom of Kazan, which was only crushed by the Tsar Ivan IV in 1552. According to Bulgarian historians, the basins of the rivers Volga and Don and the steppes of eastern Russia proved too confined a space for the legitimate development of Bulgarian energy, and expansion to the west was decided on. A large number of Bulgars therefore detached themselves and began to move south-westwards. During the sixth century they seem to have been settled in the country to the north of the Black Sea, forming a colony known as Black Bulgaria. It is very doubtful whether the Bulgars did take part, as they are supposed to have done, in the ambitious but unsuccessful attack on Constantinople in 559 under Zabergan, chief of another Tartar tribe; but it is fairly certain that they did in the equally formidable but equally unsuccessful attacks by the Slavs and Avars against Salonika in 609 and Constantinople in 626. During the last quarter of the sixth and the first of the seventh century the various branches of the Bulgar nation, stretching from the Volga to the Danube, were consolidated and kept in control by their prince Kubrat, who eventually fought on behalf of the Greeks against the Avars, and was actually baptized in Constantinople. The power of the Bulgars grew as that of the Avars declined, but at the death of Kubrat, in 638, his realm was divided amongst his sons. One of these established himself in Pannonia, where he joined forces with what was left of the Avars, and there the Bulgars maintained themselves till they were obliterated by the irruption of the Magyars in 893. Another son, Asparukh, or Isperikh, settled in Bessarabia, between the rivers Prut and Dniester, in 640, and some years later passed southwards. After desultory warfare with Constantinople, from 660 onwards, his successor finally overcame the Greeks, who were at that time at war with the Arabs, captured Varna, and definitely established himself between the Danube and the Balkan range in the year 679. From that year the Danube ceased to be the frontier of the eastern empire. The numbers of the Bulgars who settled south of the Danube are not known, but what happened to them is notorious. The well-known process, by which the Franks in Gaul were absorbed by the far more numerous indigenous population which they had conquered, was repeated, and the Bulgars became fused with the Slavs. So complete was the fusion, and so preponderating the influence of the subject nationality, that beyond a few personal names no traces of the language of the Bulgars have survived. Modern Bulgarian, except for the Turkish words introduced into it later during the Ottoman rule, is purely Slavonic. Not so the Bulgarian nationality; as is so often the case with mongrel products, this race, compared with the Serbs, who are purely Slav, has shown considerably greater virility, cohesion, and driving-power, though it must be conceded that its problems have been infinitely simpler. 5 _The Early Years of Bulgaria and the Introduction of Christianity_, 700-893 From the time of their establishment in the country to which they have given their name the Bulgars became a thorn in the side of the Greeks, and ever since both peoples have looked on one another as natural and hereditary enemies. The Bulgars, like all the barbarians who had preceded them, were fascinated by the honey-pot of Constantinople, and, though they never succeeded in taking it, they never grew tired of making the attempt. For two hundred years after the death of Asparukh, in 661, the Bulgars were perpetually fighting either against the Greeks or else amongst themselves. At times a diversion was caused by the Bulgars taking the part of the Greeks, as in 718, when they 'delivered' Constantinople, at the invocation of the Emperor Leo, from the Arabs, who were besieging it. From about this time the Bulgarian monarchy, which had been hereditary, became elective, and the anarchy of the many, which the Bulgars found when they arrived, and which their first few autocratic rulers had been able to control, was replaced by an anarchy of the few. Prince succeeded prince, war followed war, at the will of the feudal nobles. This internal strife was naturally profitable to the Greeks, who lavishly subsidized the rival factions. At the end of the eighth century the Bulgars south of the Danube joined forces with those to the north in the efforts of the latter against the Avars, who, beaten by Charlemagne, were again pressing south-eastwards towards the Danube. In this the Bulgars were completely successful under the leadership of one Krum, whom, in the elation of victory, they promptly elected to the throne. Krum was a far more capable ruler than they had bargained for, and he not only united all the Bulgars north and south of the Danube into one dominion, but also forcibly repressed the whims of the nobles and re-established the autocracy and the hereditary monarchy. Having finished with his enemies in the north, he turned his attention to the Greeks, with no less success. In 809 he captured from them the important city of Sofia (the Roman Sardica, known to the Slavs as Sredets), which is to-day the capital of Bulgaria. The loss of this city was a blow to the Greeks, because it was a great centre of commerce and also the point at which the commercial and strategic highways of the peninsula met and crossed. The Emperor Nikiphóros, who wished to take his revenge and recover his lost property, was totally defeated by the Bulgars and lost his life in the Balkan passes in 811. After further victories, at Mesembria (the modern Misivria) in 812 and Adrianople in 813, Krum appeared before the capital, where he nearly lost his life in an ambush while negotiating for peace. During preparations for a final assault on Constantinople he died suddenly in 815. Though Krum cannot be said to have introduced civilisation into Bulgaria, he at any rate increased its power and gave it some of the more essential organs of government. He framed a code of laws remarkable for their rigour, which was undoubtedly necessary in such a community and beneficial in its effect. He repressed civil strife, and by this means made possible the reawakening of commerce and agriculture. His successor, of uncertain identity, founded in 822 the city of Preslav (known to the Russians as Pereyaslav), situated in eastern Bulgaria, between Varna and Silistria, which was the capital until 972. The reign of Prince Boris (852-88) is remarkable because it witnessed the definitive conversion to Christianity of Bulgaria and her ruler. It is within this period also that fell the activities of the two great 'Slavonic' missionaries and apostles, the brothers Cyril and Methodius, who are looked upon by all Slavs of the orthodox faith as the founders of their civilisation. Christianity had of course penetrated into Bulgaria (or Moesia, as it was then) long before the arrival of the Slavs and Bulgars, but the influx of one horde of barbarians after another was naturally not propitious to its growth. The conversion of Boris in 865, which was brought about largely by the influence of his sister, who had spent many years in Constantinople as a captive, was a triumph for Greek influence and for Byzantium. Though the Church was at this time still nominally one, yet the rivalry between Rome and Constantinople had already become acute, and the struggle for spheres of spiritual influence had begun. It was in the year 863 that the Prince of Moravia, anxious to introduce Christianity into his country in a form intelligible to his subjects, addressed himself to the Emperor Michael III for help. Rome could not provide any suitable missionaries with knowledge of Slavonic languages, and the German, or more exactly the Bavarian, hierarchy with which Rome entrusted the spiritual welfare of the Slavs of Moravia and Pannonia used its greater local knowledge for political and not religious ends. The Germans exploited their ecclesiastical influence in order completely to dominate the Slavs politically, and as a result the latter were only allowed to see the Church through Teutonic glasses. In answer to this appeal the emperor sent the two brothers Cyril and Methodius, who were Greeks of Salonika and had considerable knowledge of Slavonic languages. They composed the Slavonic alphabet which is to-day used throughout Russia, Bulgaria, Serbia, and Montenegro, and in many parts of Austria-Hungary and translated the gospels into Slavonic; it is for this reason that they are regarded with such veneration by all members of the Eastern Church. Their mission proved the greatest success (it must be remembered that at this time the various Slavonic tongues were probably less dissimilar than they are now), and the two brothers were warmly welcomed in Rome by Pope Adrian II, who formally consented to the use, for the benefit of the Slavs, of the Slavonic liturgy (a remarkable concession, confirmed by Pope John VIII). This triumph, however, was short-lived; St. Cyril died in 869 and St. Methodius in 885; subsequent Popes, notably Stephen V, were not so benevolent to the Slavonic cause; the machinations of the German hierarchy (which included, even in those days, the falsification of documents) were irresistible, and finally the invasion of the Magyars, in 893, destroyed what was left of the Slavonic Church in Moravia. The missionary brothers had probably passed through Bulgaria on their way north in 863, but without halting. Many of their disciples, driven from the Moravian kingdom by the Germans, came south and took refuge in Bulgaria in 886, and there carried on in more favourable circumstances the teachings of their masters. Prince Boris had found it easier to adopt Christianity himself than to induce all his subjects to do the same. Even when he had enforced his will on them at the price of numerous executions of recalcitrant nobles, he found himself only at the beginning of his difficulties. The Greeks had been glad enough to welcome Bulgaria into the fold, but they had no wish to set up an independent Church and hierarchy to rival their own. Boris, on the other hand, though no doubt full of genuine spiritual ardour, was above all impressed with the authority and prestige which the basileus derived from the Church of Constantinople; he also admired the pomp of ecclesiastical ceremony, and wished to have a patriarch of his own to crown him and a hierarchy of his own to serve him. Finding the Greeks unresponsive, he turned to Rome, and Pope Nicholas I sent him two bishops to superintend the ecclesiastical affairs of Bulgaria till the investiture of Boris at the hands of the Holy See could be arranged. These bishops set to work with a will, substituted the Latin for the Greek rite, and brought Bulgaria completely under Roman influence. But when it was discovered that Boris was aiming at the erection of an independent Church their enthusiasm abated and they were recalled to Rome in 867. Adrian II proved no more sympathetic, and in 870, during the reign of the Emperor Basil I, it was decided without more ado that the Bulgarian Church should be directly under the Bishop of Constantinople, on the ground that the kingdom of Boris was a vassal-state of the basileus, and that from the Byzantine point of view, as opposed to that of Rome, the State came first and the Church next. The Moravian Gorazd, a disciple of Methodius, was appointed Metropolitan, and at his death he was succeeded by his fellow countryman and co-disciple Clement, who by means of the construction of numerous churches and monasteries did a great deal for the propagation of light and learning in Bulgaria. The definite subjection of the Bulgarian Church to that of Byzantium was an important and far-reaching event. Boris has been reproached with submitting himself and his country to Greek influence, but in those days it was either Constantinople or Rome (there was no third way); and in view of the proximity of Constantinople and the glamour which its civilization cast all over the Balkans, it is not surprising that the Greeks carried the day. 6 _The Rise and Fall of the First Bulgarian Empire_, 893-972 During the reign of Simeon, second son of Boris, which lasted from 893 to 927, Bulgaria reached a very high level of power and prosperity. Simeon, called the Great, is looked on by Bulgarians as their most capable monarch and his reign as the most brilliant period of their history. He had spent his childhood at Constantinople and been educated there, and he became such an admirer of Greek civilization that he was nicknamed _Hèmiargos_. His instructors had done their work so well that Simeon remained spellbound by the glamour of Constantinople throughout his life, and, although he might have laid the foundations of a solid empire in the Balkans, his one ambition was to conquer Byzantium and to be recognized as basileus--an ambition which was not to be fulfilled. His first campaign against the Greeks was not very fruitful, because the latter summoned the Magyars, already settled in Hungary, to their aid and they attacked Simeon from the north. Simeon in return called the Pechenegs, another fierce Tartar tribe, to his aid, but this merely resulted in their definite establishment in Rumania. During the twenty years of peace, which strange to say filled the middle of his reign (894-913), the internal development of Bulgaria made great strides. The administration was properly organized, commerce was encouraged, and agriculture flourished. In the wars against the Greeks which occupied his last years he was more successful, and inflicted a severe defeat on them at Anchialo (the modern Ahiolu) in 917; but he was still unable to get from them what he wanted, and at last, in 921, he was obliged to proclaim himself _basileus_ and _autocrat[=o]r_ of all Bulgars and Greeks, a title which nobody else recognized. He reappeared before Constantinople the same year, but effected nothing more than the customary devastation of the suburbs. The year 923 witnessed a solemn reconciliation between Rome and Constantinople; the Greeks were clever enough to prevent the Roman legates visiting Bulgaria on their return journey, and thereby administered a rebuff to Simeon, who was anxious to see them and enter into direct relations with Rome. In the same year Simeon tried to make an alliance with the Arabs, but the ambassadors of the latter were intercepted by the Greeks, who made it worth their while not to continue the journey to Bulgaria. In 924 Simeon determined on a supreme effort against Constantinople and as a preliminary he ravaged Macedonia and Thrace. When, however, he arrived before the city the walls and the catapults made him hesitate, and he entered into negotiations, which, as usual, petered out and brought him no adequate reward for all his hopes and preparations. In the west his arms were more successful, and he subjected most of the eastern part of Serbia to his rule. From all this it can be seen that he was no diplomat, though not lacking in enterprise and ambition. The fact was that while he made his kingdom too powerful for the Greeks to subdue (indeed they were compelled to pay him tribute), yet Constantinople with its impregnable walls, well-organized army, powerful fleet, and cunning and experienced statesmen, was too hard a nut for him to crack. Simeon extended the boundaries of his country considerably, and his dominion included most of the interior of the Balkan peninsula south of the Danube and east of the rivers Morava and Ibar in Serbia and of the Drin in Albania. The Byzantine Church greatly increased its influence in Bulgaria during his reign, and works of theology grew like mushrooms. This was the only kind of literature that was ever popular in Bulgaria, and although it is usual to throw contempt on the literary achievements of Constantinople, we should know but little of Bulgaria were it not for the Greek historians. Simeon died in 927, and his son Peter, who succeeded him, was a lover of peace and comfort; he married a Byzantine princess, and during his reign (927-69) Greek influence grew ever stronger, in spite of several revolts on the part of the Bulgar nobles, while the capital Preslav became a miniature Constantinople. In 927 Rome recognized the kingdom and patriarchate of Bulgaria, and Peter was duly crowned by the Papal legate. This was viewed with disfavour by the Greeks, and they still called Peter only _arch[=o]n_ or prince (_knyaz_ in Bulgarian), which was the utmost title allowed to any foreign sovereign. It was not until 945 that they recognized Peter as _basileus_, the unique title possessed by their own emperors and till then never granted to any one else. Peter's reign was one of misfortune for his country both at home and abroad. In 931 the Serbs broke loose under their leader [)C]aslav, whom Simeon had captured but who effected his escape, and asserted their independence. In 963 a formidable revolt under one Shishman undermined the whole state fabric. He managed to subtract Macedonia and all western Bulgaria, including Sofia and Vidin, from Peter's rule, and proclaimed himself independent _tsar (tsar_ or _caesar_ was a title often accorded by Byzantium to relatives of the emperor or to distinguished men of Greek or other nationality, and though it was originally the equivalent of the highest title, it had long since ceased to be so: the emperor's designations were _basileus_ and _autocrat[=o]r_). From this time there were two Bulgarias--eastern and western. The eastern half was now little more than a Byzantine province, and the western became the centre of national life and the focus of national aspirations. Another factor which militated against the internal progress of Bulgaria was the spread of the Bogomil heresy in the tenth century. This remarkable doctrine, founded on the dualism of the Paulicians, who had become an important political force in the eastern empire, was preached in the Balkan peninsula by one Jeremiah Bogomil, for the rest a man of uncertain identity, who made Philippopolis the centre of his activity. Its principal features were of a negative character, and consequently it was very difficult successfully to apply force against them. The Bogomils recognized the authority neither of Church nor of State; the validity neither of oaths nor of human laws. They refused to pay taxes, to fight, or to obey; they sanctioned theft, but looked upon any kind of punishment as unjustifiable; they discountenanced marriage and were strict vegetarians. Naturally a heresy so alarming in its individualism shook to its foundations the not very firmly established Bulgarian society. Nevertheless it spread with rapidity in spite of all persecutions, and its popularity amongst the Bulgarians, and indeed amongst all the Slavs of the peninsula, is without doubt partly explained by political reasons. The hierarchy of the Greek Church, which supported the ruling classes of the country and lent them authority at the same time that it increased its own, was antipathetic to the Slavs, and the Bogomil heresy drew much strength from its nationalistic colouring and from the appeal which it made to the character of the Balkan Slavs, who have always been intolerant of government by the Church. But neither the civil nor the ecclesiastical authorities were able to cope with the problem; indeed they were apt to minimize its importance, and the heresy was never eradicated till the arrival on the scene of Islam, which proved as attractive to the schismatics as the well-regulated Orthodox Church had been the reverse. The third quarter of the tenth century witnessed a great recrudescence of the power of Constantinople under the Emperor Nikiphóros Phokas, who wrested Cyprus and Crete from the Arabs and inaugurated an era of prosperity for the eastern empire, giving it a new lease of vigorous and combative life. Wishing to reassert the Greek supremacy in the Balkan peninsula his first act was to refuse any further payment of tribute to the Bulgarians as from 966; his next was to initiate a campaign against them, but in order to make his own success in this enterprise less costly and more assured he secured the co-operation of the Russians under Svyatoslav, Prince of Kiev; this potentate's mother Olga had visited Constantinople in 957 and been baptized (though her son and the bulk of the population were still ardent heathens), and commercial intercourse between Russia and Constantinople by means of the Dnieper and the Black Sea was at that time lively. Svyatoslav did not want pressing, and arriving with an army of 10,000 men in boats, overcame northern Bulgaria in a few days (967); they were helped by Shishman and the western Bulgars, who did not mind at what price Peter and the eastern Bulgars were crushed. Svyatoslav was recalled to Russia in 968 to defend his home from attacks by the Tartar Pechenegs, but that done, he made up his mind to return to Bulgaria, lured by its riches and by the hope of the eventual possession of Constantinople. The Emperor Nikiphóros was by now aware of the danger he had imprudently conjured up, and made a futile alliance with eastern Bulgaria; but in January 969 Peter of Bulgaria died, and in December of the same year Nikiphóros was murdered by the ambitious Armenian John Tzimisces,[1] who thereupon became emperor. Svyatoslav, seeing the field clear of his enemies, returned in 970, and in March of that year sacked and occupied Philippopolis. The Emperor John Tzimisces, who was even abler both as general and as diplomat than his predecessor, quietly pushed forward his warlike preparations, and did not meet the Russians till the autumn, when he completely defeated them at Arcadiopolis (the modern Lule-Burgas). The Russians retired north of the Balkan range, but the Greeks followed them. John Tzimisces besieged them in the capital Preslav, which he stormed, massacring many of the garrison, in April 972. Svyatoslav and his remaining troops escaped to Silistria (the Durostorum of Trajan) on the Danube, where again, however, they were besieged and defeated by the indefatigable emperor. At last peace was made in July 972, the Russians being allowed to go free on condition of the complete evacuation of Bulgaria and a gift of corn; the adventurous Svyatoslav lost his life at the hands of the Pechenegs while making his way back to Kiev. The triumph of the Greeks was complete, and it can be imagined that there was not much left of the earthenware Bulgaria after the violent collision of these two mighty iron vessels on the top of it. Eastern Bulgaria (i.e. Moesia and Thrace) ceased to exist, becoming a purely Greek province; John Tzimisces made his triumphal entry into Constantinople, followed by the two sons of Peter of Bulgaria on foot; the elder was deprived of his regal attributes and created _magistros_, the younger was made a eunuch. [Footnote 1: John the Little.] 7 _The Rise and Fall of 'Western Bulgaria' and the Greek Supremacy_, 963-1186 Meanwhile western Bulgaria had not been touched, and it was thither that the Bulgarian patriarch Damian removed from Silistria after the victory of the Greeks, settling first in Sofia and then in Okhrida in Macedonia, where the apostate Shishman had eventually made his capital. Western Bulgaria included Macedonia and parts of Thessaly, Albania, southern and eastern Serbia, and the westernmost parts of modern Bulgaria. It was from this district that numerous anti-Hellenic revolts were directed after the death of the Emperor John Tzimisces in 976. These culminated during the reign of Samuel (977-1014), one of the sons of Shishman. He was as capable and energetic, as unscrupulous and inhuman, as the situation he was called upon to fill demanded. He began by assassinating all his relations and nobles who resented his desire to re-establish the absolute monarchy, was recognized as _tsar_ by the Holy See of Rome in 981, and then began to fight the Greeks, the only possible occupation for any self-respecting Bulgarian ruler. The emperor at that time was Basil II (976-1025), who was brave and patriotic but young and inexperienced. In his early campaigns Samuel carried all before him; he reconquered northern Bulgaria in 985, Thessaly in 986, and defeated Basil II near Sofia the same year. Later he conquered Albania and the southern parts of Serbia and what is now Montenegro and Hercegovina. In 996 he threatened Salonika, but first of all embarked on an expedition against the Peloponnese; here he was followed by the Greek general, who managed to surprise and completely overwhelm him, he and his son barely escaping with their lives. From that year (996) his fortune changed; the Greeks reoccupied northern Bulgaria, in 999, and also recovered Thessaly and parts of Macedonia. The Bulgars were subjected to almost annual attacks on the part of Basil II; the country was ruined and could not long hold out. The final disaster occurred in 1014, when Basil II utterly defeated his inveterate foe in a pass near Seres in Macedonia. Samuel escaped to Prilip, but when he beheld the return of 15,000 of his troops who had been captured and blinded by the Greeks he died of syncope. Basil II, known as Bulgaroctonus, or Bulgar-killer, went from victory to victory, and finally occupied the Bulgarian capital of Okhrida in 1016. Western Bulgaria came to an end, as had eastern Bulgaria in 972, the remaining members of the royal family followed the emperor to the Bosphorus to enjoy comfortable captivity, and the triumph of Constantinople was complete. From 1018 to 1186 Bulgaria had no existence as an independent state; Basil II, although cruel, was far from tyrannical in his general treatment of the Bulgars, and treated the conquered territory more as a protectorate than as a possession. But after his death Greek rule became much more oppressive. The Bulgarian patriarchate (since 972 established at Okhrida) was reduced to an archbishopric, and in 1025 the see was given to a Greek, who lost no time in eliminating the Bulgarian element from positions of importance throughout his diocese. Many of the nobles were transplanted to Constantinople, where their opposition was numbed by the bestowal of honours. During the eleventh century the peninsula was invaded frequently by the Tartar Pechenegs and Kumans, whose aid was invoked both by Greeks and Bulgars; the result of these incursions was not always favourable to those who had promoted them; the barbarians invariably stayed longer and did more damage than had been bargained for, and usually left some of their number behind as unwelcome settlers. In this way the ethnological map of the Balkan peninsula became ever more variegated. To the Tartar settlers were added colonies of Armenians and Vlakhs by various emperors. The last touch was given by the arrival of the Normans in 1081 and the passage of the crusaders in 1096. The wholesale depredations of the latter naturally made the inhabitants of the Balkan peninsula anything but sympathetically disposed towards their cause. One of the results of all this turmoil and of the heavy hand of the Greeks was a great increase in the vitality of the Bogomil heresy already referred to; it became a refuge for patriotism and an outlet for its expression. The Emperor Alexis Comnenus instituted a bitter persecution of it, which only led to its growth and rapid propagation westwards into Serbia from its centre Philippopolis. The reason of the complete overthrow of the Bulgarian monarchy by the Greeks was of course that the nation itself was totally lacking in cohesion and organization, and could only achieve any lasting success when an exceptionally gifted ruler managed to discount the centrifugal tendencies of the feudal nobles, as Simeon and Samuel had done. Other discouraging factors wore the permeation of the Church and State by Byzantine influence, the lack of a large standing army, the spread of the anarchic Bogomil heresy, and the fact that the bulk of the Slav population had no desire for foreign adventure or national aggrandizement. 8 _The Rise and Fall of the Second Bulgarian Empire,_ 1186-1258 From 1186 to 1258 Bulgaria experienced temporary resuscitation, the brevity of which was more than compensated for by the stirring nature of the events that crowded it. The exactions and oppressions of the Greeks culminated in a revolt on the part of the Bulgars, which had its centre in Tirnovo on the river Yantra in northern Bulgaria--a position of great natural strength and strategic importance, commanding the outlets of several of the most important passes over the Balkan range. This revolt coincided with the growing weakness of the eastern empire, which, surrounded on all sides by aggressive enemies--Kumans, Saracens, Turks, and Normans--was sickening for one of the severe illnesses which preceded its dissolution. The revolt was headed by two brothers who were Vlakh or Rumanian shepherds, and was blessed by the archbishop Basil, who crowned one of them, called John Asen, as _tsar_ in Tirnovo in 1186. Their first efforts against the Greeks were not successful, but securing the support of the Serbs under Stephen Nemanja in 1188 and of the Crusaders in 1189 they became more so; but there was life in the Greeks yet, and victory alternated with defeat. John Asen I was assassinated in 1196 and was succeeded after many internal discords and murders by his relative Kaloian or Pretty John. This cruel and unscrupulous though determined ruler soon made an end of all his enemies at home, and in eight years achieved such success abroad that Bulgaria almost regained its former proportions. Moreover, he re-established relations with Rome, to the great discomfiture of the Greeks, and after some negotiations Pope Innocent III recognized Kaloian as _tsar_ of the Bulgars and Vlakhs (roi de Blaquie et de Bougrie, in the words of Villehardouin), with Basil as primate, and they were both duly consecrated and crowned by the papal legate at Tirnovo in 1204. The French, who had just established themselves in Constantinople during the fourth crusade, imprudently made an enemy of Kaloian instead of a friend, and with the aid of the Tartar Kumans he defeated them several times, capturing and brutally murdering Baldwin I. But in 1207 his career was cut short; he was murdered while besieging Salonika by one of his generals who was a friend of his wife. After eleven years of further anarchy he was succeeded by John Asen II. During the reign of this monarch, which lasted from 1218 till 1241, Bulgaria reached the zenith of its power. He was the most enlightened ruler the country had had, and he not only waged war successfully abroad but also put an end to the internal confusion, restored the possibility of carrying on agriculture and commerce, and encouraged the foundation of numerous schools and monasteries. He maintained the tradition of his family by making his capital at Tirnovo, which city he considerably embellished and enlarged. Constantinople at this time boasted three Greek emperors and one French. The first act of John Asen II was to get rid of one of them, named Theodore, who had proclaimed himself _basileus_ at Okhrida in 1223. Thereupon he annexed the whole of Thrace, Macedonia, Thessaly, and Epirus to his dominions, and made Theodore's brother Manuel, who had married one of his daughters, viceroy, established at Salonika. Another of his daughters had married Stephen Vladislav, who was King of Serbia from 1233-43, and a third married Theodore, son of the Emperor John III, who reigned at Nicaea, in 1235. This daughter, after being sought in marriage by the French barons at Constantinople as a wife for the Emperor Baldwin II, a minor, was then summarily rejected in favour of the daughter of the King of Jerusalem; this affront rankled in the mind of John Asen II and threw him into the arms of the Greeks, with whom he concluded an alliance in 1234. John Asen II and his ally, the Emperor John III, were, however, utterly defeated by the French under the walls of Constantinople in 1236, and the Bulgarian ruler, who had no wish to see the Greeks re-established there, began to doubt the wisdom of his alliance. Other Bulgarian tsars had been unscrupulous, but the whole foreign policy of this one pivoted on treachery. He deserted the Greeks and made an alliance with the French in 1237, the Pope Gregory IX, a great Hellenophobe, having threatened him with excommunication; he went so far as to force his daughter to relinquish her Greek husband. The following year, however, he again changed over to the Greeks; then again fear of the Pope and of his brother-in-law the King of Hungary brought him back to the side of Baldwin II, to whose help against the Greeks he went with a large army into Thrace in 1239. While besieging the Greeks with indifferent success, he learned of the death of his wife and his eldest son from plague, and incontinently returned to Tirnovo, giving up the war and restoring his daughter to her lonely husband. This adaptable monarch died a natural death in 1241, and the three rulers of his family who succeeded him, whose reigns filled the period 1241-58, managed to undo all the constructive work of their immediate predecessors. Province after province was lost and internal anarchy increased. This remarkable dynasty came to an inglorious end in 1258, when its last representative was murdered by his own nobles, and from this time onwards Bulgaria was only a shadow of its former self. 9 _The Serbian Supremacy and the Final Collapse,_ 1258-1393 From 1258 onwards Bulgaria may be said to have continued flickering until its final extinction as a state in 1393, but during this period it never had any voice in controlling the destinies of the Balkan peninsula. Owing to the fact that no ruler emerged capable of keeping the distracted country in order, there was a regular _chassé-croisé_ of rival princelets, an unceasing tale of political marriages and murders, conspiracies and revolts of feudal nobles all over the country, and perpetual ebb and flow of the boundaries of the warring principalities which tore the fabric of Bulgaria to pieces amongst them. From the point of view of foreign politics this period is characterized generally by the virtual disappearance of Bulgarian independence to the profit of the surrounding states, who enjoyed a sort of rotativist supremacy. It is especially remarkable for the complete ascendancy which Serbia gained in the Balkan peninsula. A Serb, Constantine, grandson of Stephen Nemanja, occupied the Bulgarian throne from 1258 to 1277, and married the granddaughter of John Asen II. After the fall of the Latin Empire of Constantinople in 1261, the Hungarians, already masters of Transylvania, combined with the Greeks against Constantine; the latter called the Tartars of southern Russia, at this time at the height of their power, to his help and was victorious, but as a result of his diplomacy the Tartars henceforward played an important part in the Bulgarian welter. Then Constantine married, as his second wife, the daughter of the Greek emperor, and thus again gave Constantinople a voice in his country's affairs. Constantine was followed by a series of upstart rulers, whose activities were cut short by the victories of King Uro[)s] II of Serbia (1282-1321), who conquered all Macedonia and wrested it from the Bulgars. In 1285 the Tartars of the Golden Horde swept over Hungary and Bulgaria, but it was from the south that the clouds were rolling up which not much later were to burst over the peninsula. In 1308 the Turks appeared on the Sea of Marmora, and in 1326 established themselves at Brussa. From 1295 to 1322 Bulgaria was presided over by a nobleman of Vidin, Svetoslav, who, unmolested by the Greeks, grown thoughtful in view of the approach of the Turks, was able to maintain rather more order than his subjects were accustomed to. After his death in 1322 chaos again supervened. One of his successors had married the daughter of Uro[)s] II of Serbia, but suddenly made an alliance with the Greeks against his brother-in-law Stephen Uro[)s] III and dispatched his wife to her home. During the war which ensued the unwonted allies were utterly routed by the Serbs at Kustendil in Macedonia in 1330. From 1331 to 1365 Bulgaria was under one John Alexander, a noble of Tartar origin, whose sister became the wife of Serbia's greatest ruler, Stephen Du[)s]an; John Alexander, moreover, recognized Stephen as his suzerain, and from thenceforward Bulgaria was a vassal-state of Serbia. Meanwhile the Turkish storm was gathering fast; Suleiman crossed the Hellespont in 1356, and Murad I made Adrianople his capital in 1366. After the death of John Alexander in 1365 the Hungarians invaded northern Bulgaria, and his successor invoked the help of the Turks against them and also against the Greeks. This was the beginning of the end. The Serbs, during an absence of the Sultan in Asia, undertook an offensive, but were defeated by the Turks near Adrianople in 1371, who captured Sofia in 1382. After this the Serbs formed a huge southern Slav alliance, in which the Bulgarians refused to join, but, after a temporary success against the Turks in 1387, they were vanquished by them as the result of treachery at the famous battle of Kosovo in 1389. Meanwhile the Turks occupied Nikopolis on the Danube in 1388 and destroyed the Bulgarian capital Tirnovo in 1393, exiling the Patriarch Euthymus to Macedonia. Thus the state of Bulgaria passed into the hands of the Turks, and its church into those of the Greeks. Many Bulgars adopted Islam, and their descendants are the Pomaks or Bulgarian Mohammedans of the present day. With the subjection of Rumania in 1394 and the defeat of an improvised anti-Turkish crusade from western Europe under Sigismund, King of Hungary, at Nikopolis in 1396 the Turkish conquest was complete, though the battle of Varna was not fought till 1444, nor Constantinople entered till 1453. 10 _The Turkish Dominion and the Emancipation,_ 1393-1878 From 1393 until 1877 Bulgaria may truthfully be said to have had no history, but nevertheless it could scarcely have been called happy. National life was completely paralysed, and what stood in those days for national consciousness was obliterated. It is common knowledge, and most people are now reasonable enough to admit, that the Turks have many excellent qualities, religious fervour and military ardour amongst others; it is also undeniable that from an aesthetic point of view too much cannot be said in praise of Mohammedan civilization. Who does not prefer the minarets of Stambul and Edirne[1] to the architecture of Budapest, notoriously the ideal of Christian south-eastern Europe? On the other hand, it cannot be contended that the Pax Ottomana brought prosperity or happiness to those on whom it was imposed (unless indeed they submerged their identity in the religion of their conquerors), or that its Influence was either vivifying or generally popular. [Footnote 1: The Turkish names for Constantinople and Adrianople.] To the races they conquered the Turks offered two alternatives--serfdom or Turkdom; those who could not bring themselves to accept either of these had either to emigrate or take to brigandage and outlawry in the mountains. The Turks literally overlaid the European nationalities of the Balkan peninsula for five hundred years, and from their own point of view and from that of military history this was undoubtedly a very splendid achievement; it was more than the Greeks or Romans had ever done. From the point of view of humanitarianism also it is beyond a doubt that much less human blood was spilt in the Balkan peninsula during the five hundred years of Turkish rule than during the five hundred years of Christian rule which preceded them; indeed it would have been difficult to spill more. It is also a pure illusion to think of the Turks as exceptionally brutal or cruel; they are just as good-natured and good-humoured as anybody else; it is only when their military or religious passions are aroused that they become more reckless and ferocious than other people. It was not the Turks who taught cruelty to the Christians of the Balkan peninsula; the latter had nothing to learn in this respect. In spite of all this, however, from the point of view of the Slavs of Bulgaria and Serbia, Turkish rule was synonymous with suffocation. If the Turks were all that their greatest admirers think them the history of the Balkan peninsula in the nineteenth century would have been very different from what it has been, namely, one perpetual series of anti-Turkish revolts. Of all the Balkan peoples the Bulgarians were the most completely crushed and effaced. The Greeks by their ubiquity, their brains, and their money were soon able to make the Turkish storm drive their own windmill; the Rumanians were somewhat sheltered by the Danube and also by their distance from Constantinople; the Serbs also were not so exposed to the full blast of the Turkish wrath, and the inaccessibility of much of their country afforded them some protection. Bulgaria was simply annihilated, and its population, already far from homogeneous, was still further varied by numerous Turkish and other Tartar colonies. For the same reasons already mentioned Bulgaria was the last Balkan state to emancipate itself; for these reasons also it is the least trammelled by prejudices and by what are considered national predilections and racial affinities, while its heterogeneous composition makes it vigorous and enterprising. The treatment of the Christians by the Turks was by no means always the same; generally speaking, it grew worse as the power of the Sultan grew less. During the fifteenth century they were allowed to practise their religion and all their vocations in comparative liberty and peace. But from the sixteenth century onwards the control of the Sultan declined, power became decentralized, the Ottoman Empire grew ever more anarchic and the rule of the provincial governors more despotic. But the Mohammedan conquerors were not the only enemies and oppressors of the Bulgars. The rôle played by the Greeks in Bulgaria during the Turkish dominion was almost as important as that of the Turks themselves. The contempt of the Turks for the Christians, and especially for their religion, was so great that they prudently left the management of it to them, knowing that it would keep them occupied in mutual altercation. From 1393 till 1767 the Bulgarians were under the Greco-Bulgarian Patriarchate of Okhrida, an organization in which all posts, from the highest to the lowest, had to be bought from the Turkish administration at exorbitant and ever-rising prices; the Phanariote Greeks (so called because they originated in the Phanar quarter at Constantinople) were the only ones who could afford those of the higher posts, with the result that the Church was controlled from Constantinople. In 1767 the independent patriarchates were abolished, and from that date the religious control of the Greeks was as complete as the political control of the Turks. The Greeks did all they could to obliterate the last traces of Bulgarian nationality which had survived in the Church, and this explains a fact which must never be forgotten, which had its origin in the remote past, but grew more pronounced at this period, that the individual hatred of Greeks and Bulgars of each other has always been far more intense than their collective hatred of the Turks. Ever since the marriage of the Tsar Ivan III with the niece of the last Greek Emperor, in 1472, Russia had considered itself the trustee of the eastern Christians, the defender of the Orthodox Church, and the direct heir of the glory and prestige of Constantinople; it was not until the eighteenth century, however, after the consolidation of the Russian state, that the Balkan Christians were championed and the eventual possession of Constantinople was seriously considered. Russian influence was first asserted in Rumania after the Treaty of Kuchuk-Kainardji, in 1774. It was only the Napoleonic war in 1812 that prevented the Russians from extending their territory south of the Danube, whither it already stretched. Serbia was partially free by 1826, and Greece achieved complete independence in 1830, when the Russian troops, in order to coerce the Turks, occupied part of Bulgaria and advanced as far as Adrianople. Bulgaria, being nearer to and more easily repressed by Constantinople, had to wait, and tentative revolts made about this time were put down with much bloodshed and were followed by wholesale emigrations of Bulgars into Bessarabia and importations of Tartars and Kurds into the vacated districts. The Crimean War and the short-sighted championship of Turkey by the western European powers checked considerably the development at which Russia aimed. Moldavia and Wallachia were in 1856 withdrawn from the semi-protectorate which Russia had long exercised over them, and in 1861 formed themselves into the united state of Rumania. In 1866 a German prince, Charles of Hohenzollern, came to rule over the country, the first sign of German influence in the Near East; at this time Rumania still acknowledged the supremacy of the Sultan. During the first half of the nineteenth century there took place a considerable intellectual renascence in Bulgaria, a movement fostered by wealthy Bulgarian merchants of Bucarest and Odessa. In 1829 a history of Bulgaria was published by a native of that country in Moscow; in 1835 the first school was established in Bulgaria, and many others soon followed. It must be remembered that not only was nothing known at that time about Bulgaria and its inhabitants in other countries, but the Bulgars had themselves to be taught who they were. The Bulgarian people in Bulgaria consisted entirely of peasants; there was no Bulgarian upper or middle or 'intelligent' or professional class; those enlightened Bulgars who existed were domiciled in other countries; the Church was in the hands of the Greeks, who vied with the Turks in suppressing Bulgarian nationality. The two committees of Odessa and Bucarest which promoted the enlightenment and emancipation of Bulgaria were dissimilar in composition and in aim; the members of the former were more intent on educational and religious reform, and aimed at the gradual and peaceful regeneration of their country by these means; the latter wished to effect the immediate political emancipation of Bulgaria by violent and, if necessary, warlike means. It was the ecclesiastical question which was solved first. In 1856 the Porte had promised religious reforms tending to the appointment of Bulgarian bishops and the recognition of the Bulgarian language in Church and school. But these not being carried through, the Bulgarians took the matter into their own hands, and in 1860 refused any longer to recognize the Patriarch of Constantinople. The same year an attempt was made to bring the Church of Bulgaria under that of Rome, but, owing to Russian opposition, proved abortive. In 1870, the growing agitation having at last alarmed the Turks, the Bulgarian Exarchate was established. The Bulgarian Church was made free and national and was to be under an Exarch who should reside at Constantinople (Bulgaria being still a Turkish province). The Greeks, conscious what a blow this would be to their supremacy, managed for a short while to stave off the evil day, but in 1872 the Exarch was triumphantly installed in Constantinople, where he resided till 1908. Meanwhile revolutionary outbreaks began to increase, but were always put down with great rigour. The most notable was that of 1875, instigated by Stambulóv, the future dictator, in sympathy with the outbreak in Montenegro, Hercegovina, and Bosnia of that year; the result of this and of similar movements in 1876 was the series of notorious Bulgarian massacres in that year. The indignation of Europe was aroused and concerted representations were urgently made at Constantinople. Midhat Pasha disarmed his opponents by summarily introducing the British constitution into Turkey, but, needless to say, Bulgaria's lot was not improved by this specious device. Russia had, however, steadily been making her preparations, and, Turkey having refused to discontinue hostilities against Montenegro, on April 24, 1877, war was declared by the Emperor Alexander II, whose patience had become exhausted; he was joined by Prince Charles of Rumania, who saw that by doing so he would be rewarded by the complete emancipation of his country, then still a vassal-state of Turkey, and its erection into a kingdom. At the beginning of the war all went well for the Russians and Rumanians, who were soon joined by large numbers of Bulgarian insurgents; the Turkish forces were scattered all over the peninsula. The committee of Bucarest transformed itself into a provisional government, but the Russians, who had undertaken to liberate the country, naturally had to keep its administration temporarily in their own hands, and refused their recognition. The Turks, alarmed at the early victories of the Russians, brought up better generals and troops, and defeated the Russians at Plevna in July. They failed, however, to dislodge them from the important and famous Shipka Pass in August, and after this they became demoralized and their resistance rapidly weakened. The Russians, helped by the Bulgarians and Rumanians, fought throughout the summer with the greatest gallantry; they took Plevna, after a three months' siege, in December, occupied Sofia and Philippopolis in January 1878, and pushed forward to the walls of Constantinople. The Turks were at their last gasp, and at Adrianople, in March 1878, Ignatiyev dictated the terms of the Treaty of San Stefano, by which a principality of Bulgaria, under the nominal suzerainty of the Sultan, was created, stretching from the Danube to the Aegean, and from the Black Sea to Albania, including all Macedonia and leaving to the Turks only the district between Constantinople and Adrianople, Chalcidice, and the town of Salonika; Bulgaria would thus have regained the dimensions it possessed under Tsar Simeon nine hundred and fifty years previously. This treaty, which on ethnological grounds was tolerably just, alarmed the other powers, especially Great Britain and Germany, who thought they perceived in it the foundations of Russian hegemony in the Balkans, while it would, if put into execution, have blighted the aspirations of Greece and Serbia. The Treaty of Berlin, inspired by Bismarck and Lord Salisbury, anxious to defend, the former, the interests of (ostensibly) Austria-Hungary, the latter (shortsightedly) those of Turkey, replaced it in July 1878. By its terms Bulgaria was cut into three parts; northern Bulgaria, between the Danube and the Balkans, was made an autonomous province, tributary to Turkey; southern Bulgaria, fancifully termed Eastern Rumelia (Rumili was the name always given by the Turks to the whole Balkan peninsula), was to have autonomous administration under a Christian governor appointed by the Porte; Macedonia was left to Turkey; and the Dobrudja, between the Danube and the Black Sea, was adjudged to Rumania. 11 _The Aftermath, and Prince Alexander of Battenberg, 1878-86_ The relations between the Russians and the Bulgarians were better before the liberation of the latter by the former than after; this may seem unjust, because Bulgaria could never have freed herself so decisively and rapidly alone, and Russia was the only power in whose interest it was to free her from the Turks, and who could translate that interest so promptly into action; nevertheless, the laws controlling the relationships of states and nationalities being much the same as those which control the relationships of individuals, it was only to be expected. What so often happens in the relationships of individuals happened in those between Russia and Bulgaria. Russia naturally enough expected Bulgaria to be grateful for the really large amount of blood and treasure which its liberation had cost Russia, and, moreover, expected its gratitude to take the form of docility and a general acquiescence in all the suggestions and wishes expressed by its liberator. Bulgaria was no doubt deeply grateful, but never had the slightest intention of expressing its gratitude in the desired way; on the contrary, like most people who have regained a long-lost and unaccustomed freedom of action or been put under an obligation, it appeared touchy and jealous of its right to an independent judgement. It is often assumed by Russophobe writers that Russia wished and intended to make a Russian province of Bulgaria, but this is very unlikely; the geographical configuration of the Balkan peninsula would not lend itself to its incorporation in the Russian Empire, the existence between the two of the compact and vigorous national block of Rumania, a Latin race and then already an independent state, was an insurmountable obstacle, and, finally, it is quite possible for Russia to obtain possession or control of Constantinople without owning all the intervening littoral. That Russia should wish to have a controlling voice in the destinies of Bulgaria and in those of the whole peninsula was natural, and it was just as natural that Bulgaria should resent its pretensions. The eventual result of this, however, was that Bulgaria inevitably entered the sphere of Austrian and ultimately of German influence or rather calculation, a contingency probably not foreseen by its statesmen at the time, and whose full meaning, even if it had, would not have been grasped by them. The Bulgarians, whatever the origin and the ingredients of their nationality, are by language a purely Slavonic people; their ancestors were the pioneers of Slavonic civilization as expressed in its monuments of theological literature. Nevertheless, they have never been enthusiastic Pan-Slavists, any more than the Dutch have ever been ardent Pan-Germans; it is as unreasonable to expect such a thing of the one people as it is of the other. The Bulgarians indeed think themselves superior to the Slavs by reason of the warlike and glorious traditions of the Tartar tribe that gave them their name and infused the Asiatic element into their race, thus endowing them with greater stability, energy, and consistency than is possessed by purely Slav peoples. These latter, on the other hand, and notably the Serbians, for the same reason affect contempt for the mixture of blood and for what they consider the Mongol characteristics of the Bulgarians. What is certain is that between Bulgarians and Germans (including German Austrians and Magyars) there has never existed that elemental, ineradicable, and insurmountable antipathy which exists between German (and Magyar) and Slav wherever the two races are contiguous, from the Baltic to the Adriatic; nothing is more remarkable than the way in which the Bulgarian people has been flattered, studied, and courted in Austria-Hungary and Germany, during the last decade, to the detriment of the purely Slav Serb race with whom it is always compared. The reason is that with the growth of the Serb national movement, from 1903 onwards, Austria-Hungary and Germany felt an instinctive and perfectly well-justified fear of the Serb race, and sought to neutralize the possible effect of its growing power by any possible means. It is not too much to say, in summing up, that Russian influence, which had been growing stronger in Bulgaria up till 1877-8, has since been steadily on the decline; Germany and Austria-Hungary, who reduced Bulgaria to half the size that Count Ignatiyev had made it by the Treaty of San Stefano, reaped the benefit, especially the commercial benefit, of the war which Russia had waged. Intellectually, and especially as regards the replenishment and renovation of the Bulgarian language, which, in spite of numerous Turkish words introduced during the Ottoman rule, is essentially Slavonic both in substance and form, Russian influence was especially powerful, and has to a certain extent maintained itself. Economically, owing partly to geographical conditions, both the Danube and the main oriental railway linking Bulgaria directly with Budapest and Vienna, partly to the fact that Bulgaria's best customers for its cereals are in central and western Europe, the connexion between Bulgaria and Russia is infinitesimal. Politically, both Russia and Bulgaria aiming at the same thing, the possession of Constantinople and the hegemony of the Balkan peninsula, their relations were bound to be difficult. The first Bulgarian Parliament met in 1879 under trying conditions. Both Russian and Bulgarian hopes had been dashed by the Treaty of Berlin. Russian influence was still paramount, however, and the viceroy controlled the organization of the administration. An ultra-democratic constitution was arranged for, a fact obviously not conducive to the successful government of their country by the quite inexperienced Bulgarians. For a ruler recourse had inevitably to be had to the rabbit-warren of Germanic princes, who were still ingenuously considered neutral both in religion and in politics. The choice fell on Prince Alexander of Battenberg, nephew of the Empress of Russia, who had taken part in the campaign of the Russian army. Prince Alexander was conscientious, energetic, and enthusiastic, but he was no diplomat, and from the outset his honesty precluded his success. From the very first he failed to keep on good terms with Russia or its representatives, who at that time were still numerous in Bulgaria, while he was helpless to stem the ravages of parliamentary government. The Emperor Alexander III, who succeeded his father Alexander II in 1881, recommended him to insist on being made dictator, which he successfully did. But when he found that this only meant an increase of Russian influence he reverted to parliamentary government (in September 1883); this procedure discomfited the representatives of Russia, discredited him with the Emperor, and threw him back into the vortex of party warfare, from which he never extricated himself. Meanwhile the question of eastern Rumelia, or rather southern Bulgaria, still a Turkish province, began to loom. A vigorous agitation for the reunion of the two parts of the country had been going on for some time, and on September 18, 1885, the inhabitants of Philippopolis suddenly proclaimed the union under Prince Alexander, who solemnly announced his approval at Tirnovo and triumphantly entered their city on September 21. Russia frowned on this independence of spirit. Serbia, under King Milan, and instigated by Austria, inaugurated the policy which has so often been followed since, and claimed territorial compensation for Bulgaria's aggrandisement; it must be remembered that it was Bismarck who, by the Treaty of Berlin, had arbitrarily confined Serbia to its inadequate limits of those day. On November 13 King Milan declared war, and began to march on Sofia, which is not far from the Serbo-Bulgarian frontier. Prince Alexander, the bulk of whose army was on the Turkish frontier, boldly took up the challenge. On November 18 took place the battle of Slivnitsa, a small town about twenty miles north-west of Sofia, in which the Bulgarians were completely victorious. Prince Alexander, after hard fighting, took Pirot in Serbia on November 27, having refused King Milan's request for an armistice, and was marching on Nish, when Austria intervened, and threatened to send troops into Serbia unless fighting ceased. Bulgaria had to obey, and on March 3, 1886, a barren treaty of peace was imposed on the belligerents at Bucarest. Prince Alexander's position did not improve after this, indeed it would have needed a much more skilful navigator to steer through the many currents which eddied round him. A strong Russophile party formed itself in the army; on the night of August 21, 1886, some officers of this party, who were the most capable in the Bulgarian army, appeared at Sofia, forced Alexander to resign, and abducted him; they put him on board his yacht on the Danube and escorted him to the Russian town of Reni, in Bessarabia; telegraphic orders came from St. Petersburg, in answer to inquiries, that he could proceed with haste to western Europe, and on August 26 he found himself at Lemberg. But those who had carried out this _coup d'état_ found that it was not at all popular in the country. A counter-revolution, headed by the statesman Stambulóv, was immediately initiated, and on September 3 Prince Alexander reappeared in Sofia amidst tumultuous applause. Nevertheless his position was hopeless; the Emperor Alexander III forced him to abdicate, and on September 7, 1886, he left Bulgaria for good, to the regret of the majority of the people. He died in Austria, in 1893, in his thirty-seventh year. At his departure a regency was constituted, at the head of which was Stambulóv. 12 _The Regeneration under Prince Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg,_ 1886-1908 Stambulóv was born at Tirnovo in 1854 and was of humble origin. He took part in the insurrection of 1876 and in the war of liberation, and in 1884 became president of the Sóbraniye (Parliament). From 1886 till 1894 he was virtually dictator of Bulgaria. He was intensely patriotic and also personally ambitious, determined, energetic, ruthlessly cruel and unscrupulous, but incapable of deceit; these qualities were apparent in his powerful and grim expression of face, while his manner inspired the weak with terror and the strongest with respect. His policy in general was directed against Russia. At the general election held in October 1886 he had all his important opponents imprisoned beforehand, while armed sentries discouraged ill-disposed voters from approaching the ballot-boxes. Out of 522 elected deputies, there were 470 supporters of Stambulóv. This implied the complete suppression of the Russophile party and led to a rupture with St. Petersburg. Whatever were Stambulóv's methods, and few would deny that they were harsh, there is no doubt that something of the sort was necessary to restore order in the country. But once having started on this path he found it difficult to stop, and his tyrannical bearing, combined with the delay in finding a prince, soon made him unpopular. There were several revolutionary outbreaks directed against him, but these were all crushed. At length the, at that time not particularly alluring, throne of Bulgaria was filled by Prince Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg, who was born in 1861 and was the son of the gifted Princess Clémentine of Bourbon-Orleans, daughter of Louis-Philippe. This young man combined great ambition and tenacity of purpose with extreme prudence, astuteness, and patience; he was a consummate diplomat. The election of this prince was viewed with great disfavour by Russia, and for fear of offending the Emperor Alexander III none of the European powers recognized him. Ferdinand, unabashed, cheerfully installed himself in Sofia with his mother in July 1886, and took care to make the peace with his suzerain, the Sultan Abdul Hamid. He wisely left all power in the hands of the unattractive and to him, unsympathetic prime minister, Stambulóv, till he himself felt secure in his position, and till the dictator should have made himself thoroughly hated. Ferdinand's clever and wealthy mother cast a beneficent and civilizing glow around him, smoothing away many difficulties by her womanly tact and philanthropic activity, and, thanks to his influential connexions in the courts of Europe and his attitude of calm expectancy, his prestige in his own country rapidly increased. In 1893 he married Princess Marie-Louise of Bourbon-Parma. In May 1894, as a result of a social misadventure in which he became involved, Stambulóv sent in his resignation, confidently expecting a refusal. To his mortification it was accepted; thereupon he initiated a violent press campaign, but his halo had faded, and on July 15 he was savagely attacked in the street by unknown men, who afterwards escaped, and he died three days later. So intense were the emotions of the people that his grave had to be guarded by the military for two months. In November 1894 followed the death of the Emperor Alexander III, and as a result of this double event the road to a reconciliation with Russia was opened. Meanwhile the German Emperor, who was on good terms with Princess Clémentine, had paved the way for Ferdinand at Vienna, and when, in March 1896, the Sultan recognized him as Prince of Bulgaria and Governor-General of eastern Rumelia, his international position was assured. Relations with Russia were still further improved by the rebaptism of the infant Crown Prince Boris according to the rites of the eastern Church, in February 1896, and a couple of years later Ferdinand and his wife and child paid a highly successful state visit to Peterhof. In September 1902 a memorial church was erected by the Emperor Nicholas II at the Shipka Pass, and later an equestrian statue of the Tsar-Liberator Alexander II was placed opposite the House of Parliament in Sofia. Bulgaria meanwhile had been making rapid and astonishing material progress. Railways were built, exports increased, and the general condition of the country greatly improved. It is the fashion to compare the wonderful advance made by Bulgaria during the thirty-five years of its new existence with the very much slower progress made by Serbia during a much longer period. This is insisted on especially by publicists in Austria-Hungary and Germany, but it is forgotten that even before the last Balkan war the geographical position of Bulgaria with its seaboard was much more favourable to its economic development than that of Serbia, which the Treaty of Berlin had hemmed in by Turkish and Austro-Hungarian territory; moreover, Bulgaria being double the size of the Serbia of those days, had far greater resources upon which to draw. From 1894 onwards Ferdinand's power in his own country and his influence abroad had been steadily growing. He always appreciated the value of railways, and became almost as great a traveller as the German Emperor. His estates in the south of Hungary constantly required his attention, and he was a frequent visitor in Vienna. The German Emperor, though he could not help admiring Ferdinand's success, was always a little afraid of him; he felt that Ferdinand's gifts were so similar to his own that he would be unable to count on him in an emergency. Moreover, it was difficult to reconcile Ferdinand's ambitions in extreme south-eastern Europe with his own. Ferdinand's relations with Vienna, on the other hand, and especially with the late Archduke Francis Ferdinand, were both cordial and intimate. The gradual aggravation of the condition of the Turkish Empire, notably in Macedonia, the unredeemed Bulgaria, where since the insurrection of 1902-3 anarchy, always endemic, had deteriorated into a reign of terror, and, also the unmistakably growing power and spirit of Serbia since the accession of the Karageorgevich dynasty in 1903, caused uneasiness in Sofia, no less than in Vienna and Budapest. The Young Turkish revolution of July 1908, and the triumph of the Committee of Union and Progress, disarmed the critics of Turkey who wished to make the forcible introduction of reforms a pretext for their interference; but the potential rejuvenation of the Ottoman Empire which it foreshadowed indicated the desirability of rapid and decisive action. In September, after fomenting a strike on the Oriental Railway in eastern Roumelia (which railway was Turkish property), the Sofia Cabinet seized the line with a military force on the plea of political necessity. At the same time Ferdinand, with his second wife, the Protestant Princess Eleonora of Reuss, whom he had married in March of that year, was received with regal honours by the Emperor of Austria at Budapest. On October 5, 1908, at Tirnovo, the ancient capital, Ferdinand proclaimed the complete independence of Bulgaria and eastern Rumelia under himself as King (_Tsar_ in Bulgarian), and on October 7 Austria-Hungary announced the annexation of Bosnia and Hercegovina, the two Turkish provinces administered by it since 1879, nominally under Turkish suzerainty. 13 _The Kingdom_, 1908-13 (cf. Chaps. 14, 20) The events which have taken place in Bulgaria since 1908 hinge on the Macedonian question, which has not till now been mentioned. The Macedonian question was extremely complicated; it started on the assumption that the disintegration of Turkey, which had been proceeding throughout the nineteenth century, would eventually be completed, and the question was how in this eventuality to satisfy the territorial claims of the three neighbouring countries, Bulgaria, Serbia, and Greece, claims both historical and ethnological, based on the numbers and distribution of their 'unredeemed' compatriots in Macedonia, and at the same time avoid causing the armed interference of Europe. The beginnings of the Macedonian question in its modern form do not go farther back than 1885, when the ease with which eastern Rumelia (i.e. southern Bulgaria) threw off the Turkish yoke and was spontaneously united with the semi-independent principality of northern Bulgaria affected the imagination of the Balkan statesmen. From that time Sofia began to cast longing eyes on Macedonia, the whole of which was claimed as 'unredeemed Bulgaria', and Stambulóv's last success in 1894 was to obtain from Turkey the consent to the establishment of two bishops of the Bulgarian (Exarchist) Church in Macedonia, which was a heavy blow for the Greek Patriarchate at Constantinople. Macedonia had been envisaged by the Treaty of Berlin, article 23 of which stipulated for reforms in that province; but in those days the Balkan States were too young and weak to worry themselves or the European powers over the troubles of their co-religionists in Turkey; their hands were more than full setting their own houses in some sort of order, and it was in nobody's interest to reform Macedonia, so article 23 remained the expression of a philanthropic sentiment. This indifference on the part of Europe left the door open for the Balkan States, as soon as they had energy to spare, to initiate their campaign for extending their spheres of influence in Macedonia. From 1894 onwards Bulgarian propaganda in Macedonia increased, and the Bulgarians were soon followed by Greeks and Serbians. The reason for this passionate pegging out of claims and the bitter rivalry of the three nations which it engendered was the following: The population of Macedonia was nowhere, except in the immediate vicinity of the borders of these three countries, either purely Bulgar or purely Greek or purely Serb; most of the towns contained a percentage of at least two of these nationalities, not to mention the Turks (who after all were still the owners of the country by right of conquest), Albanians, Tartars, Rumanians (Vlakhs), and others; the city of Salonika was and is almost purely Jewish, while in the country districts Turkish, Albanian, Greek, Bulgar, and Serb villages were inextricably confused. Generally speaking, the coastal strip was mainly Greek (the coast itself purely so), the interior mainly Slav. The problem was for each country to peg out as large a claim as possible, and so effectively, by any means in their power, to make the majority of the population contained in that claim acknowledge itself to be Bulgar, or Serb, or Greek, that when the agony of the Ottoman Empire was over, each part of Macedonia would automatically fall into the arms of its respective deliverers. The game was played through the appropriate media of churches and schools, for the unfortunate Macedonian peasants had first of all to be enlightened as to who they were, or rather as to who they were told they had got to consider themselves, while the Church, as always, conveniently covered a multitude of political aims; when those methods flagged, a bomb would be thrown at, let us say, a Turkish official by an _agent provocateur_ of one of the three players, inevitably resulting in the necessary massacre of innocent Christians by the ostensibly brutal but really equally innocent Turks, and an outcry in the European press. Bulgaria was first in the field and had a considerable start of the other two rivals. The Bulgars claimed the whole of Macedonia, including Salonika and all the Aegean coast (except Chalcidice), Okhrida, and Monastir; Greece claimed all southern Macedonia, and Serbia parts of northern and central Macedonia known as Old Serbia. The crux of the whole problem was, and is, that the claims of Serbia and Greece do not clash, while that of Bulgaria, driving a thick wedge between Greece and Serbia, and thus giving Bulgaria the undoubted hegemony of the peninsula, came into irreconcilable conflict with those of its rivals. The importance of this point was greatly emphasized by the existence of the Nish-Salonika railway, which is Serbia's only direct outlet to the sea, and runs through Macedonia from north to south, following the right or western bank of the river Vardar. Should Bulgaria straddle that, Serbia would be economically at its mercy, just as in the north it was already, to its bitter cost, at the mercy of Austria-Hungary. Nevertheless, Bulgarian propaganda had been so effectual that Serbia and Greece never expected they would eventually be able to join hands so easily and successfully as they afterwards did. The then unknown quantity of Albania was also a factor. This people, though small in numbers, was formidable in character, and had never been effectually subdued by the Turks. They would have been glad to have a boundary contiguous with that of Bulgaria (with whom they had no quarrel) as a support against their hereditary enemies, Serbs in the north and Greeks in the south, who were more than inclined to encroach on their territory. The population of Macedonia, being still under Turkish rule, was uneducated and ignorant; needless to say it had no national consciousness, though this was less true of the Greeks than of the Slavs. It is the Slav population of Macedonia that has engendered so much heat and caused so much blood to be spilt. The dispute as to whether it is rather Serb or Bulgar has caused interminable and most bitter controversy. The truth is that it _was_ neither the one nor the other, but that, the ethnological and linguistic missionaries of Bulgaria having been first in the field, a majority of the Macedonian Slavs had been so long and so persistently told that they were Bulgars, that after a few years Bulgaria could, with some truth, claim that this fact was so. Macedonia had been successively under Greek, Bulgar, and Serb, before Turkish, rule, but the Macedonian Slavs had, under the last, been so cut off both from Bulgars and Serbs, that ethnologically and linguistically they did not develop the characteristics of either of these two races, which originally belonged to the same southern Slav stock, but remained a primitive neutral Slav type. If the Serbs had been first in the field instead of the Bulgars, the Macedonian Slavs could just as easily have been made into Serbs, sufficiently plausibly to convince the most knowing expert. The well-known recipe for making a Macedonian Slav village Bulgar is to add _-ov_ or _-ev_ (pronounced _-off, -yeff_) on to the names of all the male inhabitants, and to make it Serb it is only necessary to add further the syllable _-ich, -ov_ and _-ovich_ being respectively the equivalent in Bulgarian and Serbian of our termination _-son,_ e. g. _Ivanov_ in Bulgarian, and _Jovanovit_ in Serbian = _Johnson_. In addition to these three nations Rumania also entered the lists, suddenly horrified at discovering the sad plight of the Vlakh shepherds, who had probably wandered with unconcern about Macedonia with their herds since Roman times. As their vague pastures could not possibly ever be annexed to Rumania, their case was merely used in order to justify Rumania in claiming eventual territorial compensation elsewhere at the final day of reckoning. Meanwhile, their existence as a separate and authentic nationality in Turkey was officially recognized by the Porte in 1906. The stages of the Macedonian question up to 1908 must at this point be quite briefly enumerated. Russia and Austria-Hungary, the two 'most interested powers', who as far back as the eighteenth century had divided the Balkans into their respective spheres of interest, east and west, came to an agreement in 1897 regarding the final settlement of affairs in Turkey; but it never reached a conclusive stage and consequently was never applied. The Macedonian chaos meanwhile grew steadily worse, and the serious insurrections of 1902-3, followed by the customary reprisals, thoroughly alarmed the powers. Hilmi Pasha had been appointed Inspector-General of Macedonia in December 1902, but was not successful in restoring order. In October 1903 the Emperor Nicholas II and the Emperor of Austria, with their foreign ministers, met at Mürzsteg, in Styria, and elaborated a more definite plan of reform known as the Mürzsteg programme, the drastic terms of which had been largely inspired by Lord Lansdowne, then British Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs; the principal feature was the institution of an international gendarmerie, the whole of Macedonia being divided up into five districts to be apportioned among the several great powers. Owing to the procrastination of the Porte and to the extreme complexity of the financial measures which had to be elaborated in connexion with this scheme of reforms, the last of the negotiations was not completed, nor the whole series ratified, until April 1907, though the gendarmerie officers had arrived in Macedonia in February 1904. At this point again it is necessary to recall the position in regard to this question of the various nations concerned. Great Britain and France had no territorial stake in Turkey proper, and did their utmost to secure reform not only in the _vilayets_ of Macedonia, but also in the realm of Ottoman finance. Italy's interest centred in Albania, whose eventual fate, for geographical and strategic reasons, could not leave it indifferent. Austria-Hungary's only care was by any means to prevent the aggrandizement of the Serb nationality and of Serbia and Montenegro, so as to secure the control, if not the possession, of the routes to Salonika, if necessary over the prostrate bodies of those two countries which defiantly barred Germanic progress towards the East. Russia was already fatally absorbed in the Far Eastern adventure, and, moreover, had, ever since the war of 1878, been losing influence at Constantinople, where before its word had been law; the Treaty of Berlin had dealt a blow at Russian prestige, and Russia had ever since that date been singularly badly served by its ambassadors to the Porte, who were always either too old or too easy-going. Germany, on the other hand, had been exceptionally fortunate or prudent in the choice of its representatives. The general trend of German diplomacy in Turkey was not grasped until very much later, a fact which redounds to the credit of the German ambassadors at Constantinople. Ever since the triumphal journey of William II to the Bosphorus in 1889, German influence, under the able guidance of Baron von Radowitz, steadily increased. This culminated in the régime of the late Baron Marschall von Bieberstein, who was ambassador from 1897 to 1912. It was German policy to flatter, support, and encourage Turkey in every possible way, to refrain from taking part with the other powers in the invidious and perennial occupation of pressing reforms on Abdul Hamid, and, above all, to give as much pocket-money to Turkey and its extravagant ruler as they asked for. Germany, for instance, refused to send officers or to have a district assigned it in Macedonia in 1904, and declined to take part in the naval demonstration off Mitylene in 1905. This attitude of Germany naturally encouraged the Porte in its policy of delay and subterfuge, and Turkey soon came to look on Germany as its only strong, sincere, and disinterested friend in Europe. For the indefinite continuance of chaos and bloodshed in Macedonia, after the other powers had really braced themselves to the thankless task of putting the reforms into practice, Germany alone was responsible. The blow which King Ferdinand had inflicted on the prestige of the Young Turks in October 1908, by proclaiming his independence, naturally lent lustre to the Bulgarian cause in Macedonia. Serbia, baffled by the simultaneous Austrian annexation of Bosnia and Hercegovina, and maddened by the elevation of Bulgaria to the rank of a kingdom (its material progress had hitherto been discounted in Serbian eyes by the fact that it was a mere vassal principality), seemed about to be crushed by the two iron pots jostling it on either side. Its international position was at that time such that it could expect no help or encouragement from western Europe, while the events of 1909 (cf. p. 144) showed that Russia was not then in a position to render active assistance. Greece, also screaming aloud for compensation, was told by its friends amongst the great powers that if it made a noise it would get nothing, but that if it behaved like a good child it might some day be given Krete. Meanwhile Russia, rudely awakened by the events of 1908 to the real state of affairs in the Near East, beginning to realize the growth of German influence at Constantinople, and seeing the unmistakable resuscitation of Austria-Hungary as a great power, made manifest by the annexation of Bosnia and Hercegovina, temporarily reasserted its influence in Bulgaria. From the moment when Baron Aehrenthal announced his chimerical scheme of an Austrian railway through the _Sandjak_ of Novi Pazar in January 1908-- everybody knows that the railway already built through Serbia along the Morava valley is the only commercially remunerative and strategically practicable road from Berlin, Vienna, and Budapest to Salonika and Constantinople--Russia realized that the days of the Mürzsteg programme were over, that henceforward it was to be a struggle between Slav and Teuton for the ownership of Constantinople and the dominion of the Near East, and that something must be done to retrieve the position in the Balkans which it was losing. After Baron Aehrenthal, in January 1909, had mollified the Young Turks by an indemnity, and thus put an end to the boycott, Russia in February of the same year liquidated the remains of the old Turkish war indemnity of 1878 still due to itself by skilfully arranging that Bulgaria should pay off its capitalized tribute, owed to its ex-suzerain the Sultan, by very easy instalments to Russia instead. The immediate effects of the Young Turk revolution amongst the Balkan States, and the events, watched benevolently by Russia, which led to the formation of the Balkan League, when it was joyfully realized that neither the setting-up of parliamentary government, nor even the overthrow of Abdul Hamid, implied the commencement of the millennium in Macedonia and Thrace, have been described elsewhere (pp. 141, 148). King Ferdinand and M. Venezelos are generally credited with the inception and realisation of the League, though it was so secretly and skilfully concerted that it is not yet possible correctly to apportion praise for the remarkable achievement. Bulgaria is a very democratic country, but King Ferdinand, owing to his sagacity, patience, and experience, and also thanks to his influential dynastic connexions and propensity for travel, has always been virtually his own foreign minister; in spite of the fact that he is a large feudal Hungarian landlord, and has temperamental leanings towards the Central European Empires, it is quite credible that King Ferdinand devoted all his undeniable talents and great energy to the formation of the League when he saw that the moment had come for Bulgaria to realize its destiny at Turkey's expense, and that, if the other three Balkan States could be induced to come to the same wise decision, it would be so much the better for all of them. That Russia could do anything else than whole-heartedly welcome the formation of the Balkan League was absolutely impossible. Pan-Slavism had long since ceased to be the force it was, and nobody in Russia dreamed of or desired the incorporation of any Balkan territory in the Russian Empire. It is possible to control Constantinople without possessing the Balkans, and Russia could only rejoice if a Greco-Slavonic league should destroy the power of the Turks and thereby make impossible the further advance of the Germanic powers eastward. That Russia was ever in the least jealous of the military successes of the league, which caused such gnashing of teeth in Berlin, Vienna, and Budapest, is a mischievous fiction, the emptiness of which was evident to any one who happened to be in Russia during the winter of 1912-13. The years 1908 to 1912 were outwardly uneventful in Bulgaria, though a great deal of quiet work was done in increasing the efficiency of the army, and the material prosperity of the country showed no falling off. Relations with the other Balkan States, especially with Serbia and Montenegro, improved considerably, and there was ample room for such improvement. This was outwardly marked by frequent visits paid to each other by members of the several royal families of the three Slavonic kingdoms of the Balkans. In May 1912 agreements for the eventual delimitation of the provinces to be conquered from Turkey in the event of war were signed between Bulgaria and Serbia, and Bulgaria and Greece. The most controversial district was, of course, Macedonia. Bulgaria claimed central Macedonia, with Monastir and Okhrida, which was the lion's share, on ethnical grounds which have been already discussed, and it was expected that Greece and Serbia, by obtaining other acquisitions elsewhere, would consent to have their territories separated by the large Bulgarian wedge which was to be driven between them. The exact future line of demarcation between Serbian and Bulgarian territory was to be left to arbitration. The possible creation of an independent Albania was not contemplated. In August 1912 the twenty-fifth anniversary of King Ferdinand's arrival in Bulgaria was celebrated with much rejoicing at the ancient capital of Tirnovo, and was marred only by the news of the terrible massacre of Bulgars by Turks at Kochana in Macedonia; this event, however, opportune though mournful, tended considerably to increase the volume of the wave of patriotism which swept through the country. Later in the same month Count Berchtold startled Europe with his 'progressive decentralization' scheme of reform for Macedonia. The manner in which this event led to the final arrangements for the declaration of war on Turkey by the four Balkan States is given in full elsewhere (cf. p. 151). The Bulgarian army was fully prepared for the fray, and the autumn manoeuvres had permitted the concentration unobserved of a considerable portion of it, ready to strike when the time came. Mobilisation was ordered on September 30, 1912. On October 8 Montenegro declared war on Turkey. On October 13 Bulgaria, with the other Balkan States, replied to the remonstrances of Russia and Austria by declaring that its patience was at length exhausted, and that the sword alone was able to enforce proper treatment of the Christian populations in European Turkey. On October 17 Turkey, encouraged by the sudden and unexpected conclusion of peace with Italy after the Libyan war, declared war on Bulgaria and Serbia, and on October 18 King Ferdinand addressed a sentimental exhortation to his people to liberate their fellow-countrymen, who were still groaning under the Crescent. The number of Turkish troops opposing the Bulgarians in Thrace was about 180,000, and they had almost exactly the same number wherewith to oppose the Serbians in Macedonia; for, although Macedonia was considered by the Turks to be the most important theatre of war, yet the proximity of the Bulgarian frontier to Constantinople made it necessary to retain a large number of troops in Thrace. On October 19 the Bulgarians took the frontier town of Mustafa Pasha. On October 24 they defeated the Turks at Kirk-Kilissé (or Lozengrad), further east. From October 28 to November 2 raged the terrific battle of Lule-Burgas, which resulted in a complete and brilliant victory of the Bulgarians over the Turks. The defeat and humiliation of the Turks was as rapid and thorough in Thrace as it had been in Macedonia, and by the middle of November the remains of the Turkish army were entrenched behind the impregnable lines of Chataldja, while a large garrison was shut up in Adrianople, which had been invested by the end of October. The Bulgarian army, somewhat exhausted by this brilliant and lightning campaign, refrained from storming the lines of Chataldja, an operation which could not fail to involve losses such as the Bulgarian nation was scarcely in a position to bear, and on December 3 the armistice was signed. The negotiations conducted in London for two months led, however, to no result, and on February 3, 1913, hostilities were resumed. These, for the Bulgarians, resolved themselves into the more energetic prosecution of the siege of Adrianople, which had not been raised during the armistice. To their assistance Serbia, being able to spare troops from Macedonia, sent 50,000 men and a quantity of heavy siege artillery, an arm which the Bulgarians lacked. On March 26, 1913, the fortress surrendered to the allied armies. The Conference of London, which took place during the spring of that year, fixed the new Turco-Bulgarian boundary by drawing the famous Enos-Midia line, running between these two places situated on the shores respectively of the Aegean and the Black Sea. This delimitation would have given Bulgaria possession of Adrianople. But meanwhile Greece and especially Serbia, which latter country had been compelled to withdraw from the Adriatic coast by Austria, and was further precluded from ever returning there by the creation of the independent state of Albania, determined to retain possession of all that part of Macedonia, including the whole valley of the Vardar with its important railway, which they had conquered, and thus secure their common frontier. In May 1913 a military convention was concluded between them, and the Balkan League, the relations between the members of which had been becoming more strained ever since January, finally dissolved. Bulgaria, outraged by this callous disregard of the agreements as to the partition of Macedonia signed a year previously by itself and its ex-allies, did not wait for the result of the arbitration which was actually proceeding in Russia, but in an access of indignation rushed to arms. This second Balkan war, begun by Bulgaria during the night of June 30, 1913, by a sudden attack on the Serbian army in Macedonia, resulted in its undoing. In order to defeat the Serbs and Greeks the south-eastern and northern frontiers were denuded of troops. But the totally unforeseen happened. The Serbs were victorious, defeating the Bulgars in Macedonia, the Turks, seeing Thrace empty of Bulgarian troops, re-occupied Adrianople, and the Rumanian army, determined to see fair play before it was too late, invaded Bulgaria from the north and marched on Sofia. By the end of July the campaign was over and Bulgaria had to submit to fate. By the terms of the Treaty of Bucarest, which was concluded on August 10, 1913, Bulgaria obtained a considerable part of Thrace and eastern Macedonia, including a portion of the Aegean coast with the seaport of Dedeagach, but it was forced to 'compensate' Rumania with a slice of its richest province (the districts of Dobrich and Silistria in north-eastern Bulgaria), and it lost central Macedonia, a great part of which it would certainly have been awarded by Russia's arbitration. On September 22, 1913, the Treaty of Constantinople was signed by Bulgaria and Turkey; by its terms Turkey retained possession of Adrianople and of a far larger part of Thrace than its series of ignominious defeats in the autumn of 1912 entitled it to. In the fatal quarrel between Bulgaria and Serbia which caused the disruption of the Balkan League, led to the tragic second Balkan war of July 1913, and naturally left behind the bitterest feelings, it is difficult to apportion the blame. Both Serbia and Bulgaria were undoubtedly at fault in the choice of the methods by which they sought to adjust their difference, but the real guilt is to be found neither in Sofia nor in Belgrade, but in Vicuna and Budapest. The Balkan League barred the way of the Germanic Powers to the East; its disruption weakened Bulgaria and again placed Serbia at the mercy of the Dual Monarchy. After these trying and unremunerative experiences it is not astonishing that the Bulgarian people and its ambitious ruler should have retired to the remote interior of their shell. * * * * * _Explanation of Serbian orthography_ c = ts [)c] = ch (as in _church_) ['c] = " " " but softer [)s] = sh [)z] = zh (as z in _azure_) gj = g (as in _George_) j = y [Illustration: THE BALKAN PENINSULA] SERBIA 14 _The Serbs under Foreign Supremacy_, 650-1168 The manner of the arrival of the Slavs in the Balkan peninsula, of that of the Bulgars, and of the formation of the Bulgarian nationality has already been described (cf. p. 26). The installation of the Slavs in the lands between the Danube, the Aegean, and the Adriatic was completed by about A.D. 650. In the second half of the seventh century the Bulgars settled themselves in the eastern half of the peninsula and became absorbed by the Slavs there, and from that time the nationality of the Slavs in the western half began to be more clearly defined. These latter, split up into a number of tribes, gradually grouped themselves into three main divisions: Serbs (or Serbians), Croats (or Croatians), and Slovenes. The Serbs, much the most numerous of the three, occupied roughly the modern kingdom of Serbia (including Old Serbia and northern Macedonia), Montenegro, and most of Bosnia, Hercegovina, and Dalmatia; the Croats occupied the more western parts of these last three territories and Croatia; the Slovenes occupied the modern Carniola and southern Carinthia. Needless to say, none of these geographical designations existed in those days except Dalmatia, on the coast of which the Latin influence and nomenclature maintained itself. The Slovenes, whose language is closely akin to but not identical with Serbian (or Croatian), even to-day only number one and a half million, and do not enter into this narrative, as they have never played any political rôle in the Balkan peninsula. The Serbs and the Croats were, as regards race and language, originally one people, the two names having merely geographical signification. In course of time, for various reasons connected with religion and politics, the distinction was emphasized, and from a historical point of view the Serbo-Croatian race has always been divided into two. It is only within the last few years that a movement has taken place, the object of which is to reunite Serbs and Croats into one nation and eventually into one state. The movement originated in Serbia, the Serbs maintaining that they and the Croats are one people because they speak the same language, and that racial and linguistic unity outweighs religious divergence. A very large number of Croats agree with the Serbs in this and support their views, but a minority for long obstinately insisted that there was a racial as well as a religious difference, and that fusion was impossible. The former based their argument on facts, the latter theirs on prejudice, which is notoriously difficult to overcome. Latterly the movement in favour of fusion grew very much stronger among the Croats, and together with that in Serbia resulted in the Pan-Serb agitation which, gave the pretext for the opening of hostilities in July 1914. The designation Southern Slav (or Jugo-Slav, _jug_, pronounced yug, = _south_ in Serbian) covers Serbs and Croats, and also includes Slovenes; it is only used with reference to the Bulgarians from the point of view of philology (the group of South Slavonic languages including Bulgarian, Serbo-Croatian and Slovene; the East Slavonic, Russian; and the West Slavonic, Polish and Bohemian). In the history of the Serbs and Croats, or of the Serbo-Croatian race, several factors of a general nature have first to be considered, which have influenced its whole development. Of these, the physical nature of the country in which they settled, between the Danube and Save and the Adriatic, is one of the most important. It is almost everywhere mountainous, and though the mountains themselves never attain as much as 10,000 feet in height, yet they cover the whole country with an intricate network and have always formed an obstacle to easy communication between the various parts of it. The result of this has been twofold. In the first place it has, generally speaking, been a protection against foreign penetration and conquest, and in so far was beneficial. Bulgaria, further east, is, on the whole, less mountainous, in spite of the Balkan range which stretches the whole length of it; for this reason, and also on account of its geographical position, any invaders coming from the north or north-east, especially if aiming at Constantinople or Salonika, were bound to sweep over it. The great immemorial highway from the north-west to the Balkan peninsula crosses the Danube at Belgrade and follows the valley of the Morava to Nish; thence it branches off eastwards, going through Sofia and again crossing all Bulgaria to reach Constantinople, while the route to Salonika follows the Morava southwards from Nish and crosses the watershed into the valley of the Vardar, which flows into the Aegean. But even this road, following the course of the rivers Morava and Vardar, only went through the fringe of Serb territory, and left untouched the vast mountain region between the Morava and the Adriatic, which is really the home of the Serb race. In the second place, while it has undoubtedly been a protection to the Serb race, it has also been a source of weakness. It has prevented a welding together of the people into one whole, has facilitated the rise of numerous political units at various times, and generally favoured the dissipation of the national strength, and militated against national organization and cohesion. In the course of history this process has been emphasized rather than diminished, and to-day the Serb race is split up into six political divisions, while Bulgaria, except for those Bulgars claimed as 'unredeemed' beyond the frontier, presents a united whole. It is only within the last thirty years, with the gradual improvement of communications (obstructed to an incredible extent by the Austro-Hungarian government) and the spread of education, that the Serbs in the different countries which they inhabit have become fully conscious of their essential identity and racial unity. No less important than the physical aspect of their country on the development of the Serbs has been the fact that right through the middle of it from south to north there had been drawn a line of division more than two centuries before their arrival. Artificial boundaries are proverbially ephemeral, but this one has lasted throughout the centuries, and it has been baneful to the Serbs. This dividing line, drawn first by the Emperor Diocletian, has been described on p. 14; at the division of the Roman Empire into East and West it was again followed, and it formed the boundary between the dioceses of Italy and Dacia; the line is roughly the same as the present political boundary between Montenegro and Hercegovina, between the kingdom of Serbia and Bosnia; it stretched from the Adriatic to the river Save right across the Serb territory. The Serbo-Croatian race unwittingly occupied a country that was cut in two by the line that divides East from West, and separates Constantinople and the Eastern Church from Rome and the Western. This curious accident has had consequences fatal to the unity of the race, since it has played into the hands of ambitious and unscrupulous neighbours. As to the extent of the country occupied by the Serbs at the beginning of their history it is difficult to be accurate. The boundary between the Serbs in the west of the peninsula and the Bulgars in the east has always been a matter of dispute. The present political frontier between Serbia and Bulgaria, starting in the north from the mouth of the river Timok on the southern bank of the Danube and going southwards slightly east of Pirot, is ethnographically approximately correct till it reaches the newly acquired and much-disputed territories in Macedonia, and represents fairly accurately the line that has divided the two nationalities ever since they were first differentiated in the seventh century. In the confused state of Balkan politics in the Middle Ages the political influence of Bulgaria often extended west of this line and included Nish and the Morava valley, while at other times that of Serbia extended east of it. The dialects spoken in these frontier districts represent a transitional stage between the two languages; each of the two peoples naturally considers them more akin to its own, and resents the fact that any of them should be included in the territory of the other. Further south, in Macedonia, conditions are similar. Before the Turkish conquest Macedonia had been sometimes under Bulgarian rule, as in the times of Simeon, Samuel, and John Asen II, sometimes under Serbian, especially during the height of Serbian power in the fourteenth century, while intermittently it had been a province of the Greek Empire, which always claimed it as its own. On historical grounds, therefore, each of the three nations can claim possession of Macedonia. From an ethnographic point of view the Slav population of Macedonia (there were always and are still many non-Slav elements) was originally the same as that in the other parts of the peninsula, and probably more akin to the Serbs, who are pure Slavs, than to the Slavs of Bulgaria, who coalesced with their Asiatic conquerors. In course of time, however, Bulgarian influences, owing to the several periods when the Bulgars ruled the country, began to make headway. The Albanians also (an Indo-European or Aryan race, but not of the Greek, Latin, or Slav families), who, as a result of all the invasions of the Balkan peninsula, had been driven southwards into the inaccessible mountainous country now known as Albania, began to spread northwards and eastwards again during the Turkish dominion, pushing back the Serbs from the territory where they had long been settled. During the Turkish dominion neither Serb nor Bulgar had any influence in Macedonia, and the Macedonian Slavs, who had first of all been pure Slavs, like the Serbs, then been several times under Bulgar, and finally, under Serb influence, were left to themselves, and the process of differentiation between Serb and Bulgar in Macedonia, by which in time the Macedonian Slavs would have become either Serbs or Bulgars, ceased. The further development of the Macedonian question is treated elsewhere (cf. chap. 13). The Serbs, who had no permanent or well-defined frontier in the east, where their neighbours were the Bulgars, or in the south, where they were the Greeks and Albanians, were protected on the north by the river Save and on the west by the Adriatic. They were split up into a number of tribes, each of which was headed by a chief called in Serbian _[)z]upan_ and in Greek _arch[=o]n_. Whenever any one of these managed, either by skill or by good fortune, to extend his power over a few of the neighbouring districts he was termed _veliki_ (=great) _[)z]upan_. From the beginning of their history, which is roughly put at A.D. 650, until A.D. 1196, the Serbs were under foreign domination. Their suzerains were nominally always the Greek emperors, who had 'granted' them the land they had taken, and whenever the emperor happened to be energetic and powerful, as were Basil I (the Macedonian, 867-86), John Tzimisces (969-76), Basil II (976-1025), and Manuel Comnenus (1143-80), the Greek supremacy was very real. At those times again when Bulgaria was very powerful, under Simeon (893-927), Samuel (977-1014), and John Asen II (1218-41), many of the more easterly and southerly Serbs came under Bulgarian rule, though it is instructive to notice that the Serbs themselves do not recognize the West Bulgarian or Macedonian kingdom of Samuel to have been a Bulgarian state. The Bulgars, however, at no time brought all the Serb lands under their sway. Intermittently, whenever the power of Byzantium or of Bulgaria waned, some Serb princeling would try to form a political state on a more ambitious scale, but the fabric always collapsed at his death, and the Serbs reverted to their favourite occupation of quarrelling amongst themselves. Such wore the attempts of [)C]aslav, who had been made captive by Simeon of Bulgaria, escaped after his death, and ruled over a large part of central Serbia till 960, and later of Bodin, whose father, Michael, was even recognized as king by Pope Gregory VII; Bodin formed a state near the coast, in the Zeta river district (now Montenegro), and ruled there from 1081 to 1101. But as a rule the whole of the country peopled by the Serbs was split into a number of tiny principalities always at war with one another. Generally speaking, this country gradually became divided into two main geographical divisions: (1) the _Pomorje_, or country _by the sea_, which included most of the modern Montenegro and the southern halves of Hercegovina and Dalmatia, and (2) the _Zagorje_, or country _behind the hills_, which included most of the modern Bosnia, the western half of the modern kingdom of Serbia, and the northern portions of Montenegro and Hercegovina, covering all the country between the _Pomorje_ and the Save; to the north of the _Pomorje_ and _Zagorje_ lay Croatia. Besides their neighbours in the east and south, those in the north and west played an important part in Serbian history even in those early days. Towards the end of the eighth century, after the decline of the power of the Avars, Charlemagne extended his conquests eastwards (he made a great impression on the minds of the Slavs, whose word for king, _kral_ or _korol_, is derived directly from his name), and his son Louis conquered the Serbs settled in the country between the rivers Save and Drave. This is commemorated in the name of the mass of hill which lies between the Danube and the Save, in eastern Slavonia, and is to this day known as _Fru[)s]ka Gora_, or French Hill. The Serbs and Bulgars fought against the Franks, and while the Bulgars held their own, the Serbs were beaten, and those who did not like the rule of the new-comers had to migrate southwards across the Save; at the same time the Serbs between the rivers Morava and Timok (eastern Serbia) were subjected by the Bulgars. With the arrival of the Magyars, in the ninth century, a wall was raised between the Serbs and central and western Europe on land. Croatia and Slavonia (between the Save and the Drave) were gradually drawn into the orbit of the Hungarian state, and in 1102, on the death of its own ruler, Croatia was absorbed by Hungary and has formed part of that country ever since. Hungary, aiming at an outlet on the Adriatic, at the same time subjected most of Dalmatia and parts of Bosnia. In the west Venice had been steadily growing in power throughout the tenth century, and by the end of it had secured control of all the islands off Dalmatia and of a considerable part of the coast. All the cities on the mainland acknowledged the supremacy of Venice and she was mistress of the Adriatic. In the interior of the Serb territory, during the eleventh and twelfth centuries, three political centres came into prominence and shaped themselves into larger territorial units. These were: (1) Raska, which had been Caslav's centre and is considered the birth-place of the Serbian state (this district, with the town of Ras as its centre, included the south-western part of the modern kingdom of Serbia and what was the Turkish _sandjak_ or province of Novi-Pazar); (2) Zeta, on the coast (the modern Montenegro); and (3) Bosnia, so called after the river Bosna, which runs through it. Bosnia, which roughly corresponded to the modern province of that name, became independent in the second half of the tenth century, and was never after that incorporated in the Serbian state. At times it fell under Hungarian influence; in the twelfth century, during the reign of Manuel Comnenus, who was victorious over the Magyars, Bosnia, like all other Serb territories, had to acknowledge the supremacy of Constantinople. It has already been indicated that the Serbs and Croats occupied territory which, while the Church was still one, was divided between two dioceses, Italy and Dacia, and when the Church itself was divided, in the eleventh century, was torn apart between the two beliefs. The dividing line between the jurisdictions of Rome and Constantinople ran from north to south through Bosnia, but naturally there has always been a certain vagueness about the extent of their respective jurisdictions. In later years the terms Croat and Roman Catholic on the one hand, and Serb and Orthodox on the other, became interchangeable. Hercegovina and eastern Bosnia have always been predominantly Orthodox, Dalmatia and western Bosnia predominantly Roman Catholic. The loyalty of the Croatians to Austria-Hungary has been largely owing to the influence of Roman Catholicism. During the first centuries of Serbian history Christianity made slow progress in the western half of the Balkan peninsula. The Dalmatian coast was always under the influence of Rome, but the interior was long pagan. It is doubtful whether the brothers Cyril and Methodius (cf. chap. 5) actually passed through Serb territory, but in the tenth century their teachings and writings were certainly current there. At the time of the division of the Churches all the Serb lands except the Dalmatian coast, Croatia, and western Bosnia, were faithful to Constantinople, and the Greek hierarchy obtained complete control of the ecclesiastical administration. The elaborate organisation and opulent character of the Eastern Church was, however, especially in the hands of the Greeks, not congenial to the Serbs, and during the eleventh and twelfth centuries the Bogomil heresy (cf. chap, 6), a much more primitive and democratic form of Christianity, already familiar in the East as the Manichaean heresy, took hold of the Serbs' imagination and made as rapid and disquieting progress in their country as it had already done in the neighbouring Bulgaria; inasmuch as the Greek hierarchy considered this teaching to be socialistic, subversive, and highly dangerous to the ecclesiastical supremacy of Constantinople, all of which indeed it was, adherence to it became amongst the Serbs a direct expression of patriotism. 15 _The Rise and Fall of the Serbian Empire and the Extinction of Serbian Independence_, 1168-1496 From 1168 the power of the Serbs, or rather of the central Serb state of Raska, and the extent of its territory gradually but steadily increased. This was outwardly expressed in the firm establishment on the throne of the national Nemanja dynasty, which can claim the credit of having by its energy, skill, and good fortune fashioned the most imposing and formidable state the Serb race has ever known. This dynasty ruled the country uninterruptedly, but not without many quarrels, feuds, and rivalries amongst its various members, from 1168 until 1371, when it became extinct. There were several external factors which at this time favoured the rise of the Serbian state. Byzantium and the Greek Empire, to which the Emperor Manuel Comnenus had by 1168 restored some measure of its former greatness and splendour, regaining temporary control, after a long war with Hungary, even over Dalmatia, Croatia, and Bosnia, after this date began definitively to decline, and after the troublous times of the fourth crusade (1204), when for sixty years a Latin empire was established on the Bosphorus, never again recovered as a Christian state the position in the Balkan peninsula which it had so long enjoyed. Bulgaria, too, after the meteoric glory of its second empire under the Asen dynasty (1186-1258), quite went to pieces, the eastern and northern parts falling under Tartar, the southern under Greek influence, while the western districts fell to Serbia. In the north, on the other hand, Hungary was becoming a dangerous and ambitious neighbour. During the thirteenth century, it is true, the attention of the Magyars was diverted by the irruption into and devastation of their country by their unwelcome kinsmen from Asia, the Tartars, who wrought great havoc and even penetrated as far as the Adriatic coast. Nevertheless Hungary was always a menace to Serbia; Croatia, Slavonia, and the interior of Dalmatia, all purely Serb territories, belonged to the Hungarian crown, and Bosnia was under the supremacy of the Magyars, though nominally independent. The objects of the Magyars were twofold--to attain the hegemony of the Balkan peninsula by conquering all the still independent Serb territories, and to bring the peninsula within the pale of Rome. They were not successful in either of these objects, partly because their wars with the Serbian rulers always failed to reach a decision, partly because their plans conflicted with those of the powerful Venetian republic. The relations between Venice and Serbia were always most cordial, as their ambitions did not clash; those of Venice were not continental, while those of Serbia were never maritime. The semi-independent Slavonic city-republic of Ragusa (called Dubrovnik in Serbian) played a very important part throughout this period. It was under Venetian supremacy, but was self-governing and had a large fleet of its own. It was the great place of exchange between Serbia and western Europe, and was really the meeting-place of East and West. Its relations with Serbia were by no means always peaceful; it was a Naboth's vineyard for the rulers and people of the inland kingdom, and it was never incorporated within their dominions. Ragusa and the other cities of the Dalmatian coast were the home during the Middle Ages of a flourishing school of Serbian literature, which was inspired by that of Italy. The influence of Italian civilization and of the Italian Church was naturally strong in the Serb province, much of which was under Venetian rule; the reason for this was that communication by sea with Italy was easier and safer than that by land with Serbia. The long, formidable ranges of limestone mountains which divide the Serbian interior from the Adriatic in almost unbroken and parallel lines have always been a barrier to the extension of Serb power to the coast, and an obstacle to free commercial intercourse. Nevertheless Ragusa was a great trade centre, and one of the factors which most contributed to the economic strength of the Serbian Empire. The first of the Nemanja dynasty was Stephen, whose title was still only _Veliki ['Z]upan_; he extended Serb territory southwards at the expense of the Greeks, especially after the death of Manuel Comnenus in 1180. He also persecuted the Bogomils, who took refuge in large numbers in the adjacent Serb state of Bosnia. Like many other Serbian rulers, he abdicated in later life in favour of his younger son, Stephen, called Nemanjié (= Nemanya's son), and himself became a monk (1196), travelling for this purpose to Mount Athos, the great monastic centre and home of theological learning of the Eastern Church. There he saw his youngest son, who some years previously had also journeyed thither and entered a monastery, taking the name of Sava. It was the custom for every Serbian ruler to found a sort of memorial church, for the welfare of his own soul, before his death, and to decorate and endow it lavishly. Stephen and his son together superintended the erection in this sense of the church and monastery of Hilandar on Mount Athos, which became a famous centre of Serbian church life. Stephen died shortly after the completion of the building in 1199, and was buried in it, but in 1207 he was reinterred in the monastery of Studenica, in Serbia, also founded by him. The reign of Stephen Nernanji['c] (1196-1223) opened with a quarrel between him and his elder brother, who not unnaturally felt he ought to have succeeded his father; the Bulgarians profited by this and seized a large part of eastern Serbia, including Belgrade, Nish, Prizren, and Skoplje. This, together with the fall of Constantinople and the establishment of the Latin Empire in 1204, alarmed the Serbs and brought about a reconciliation between the brothers, and in 1207 Sava returned to Serbia to organise the Church on national lines. In 1219 he journeyed to Nicaea and extracted from the Emperor Theodore Lascaris, who had fallen on evil days, the concession for the establishment of an autonomous national Serbian Church, independent of the Patriarch of Constantinople. Sava himself was at the head of the new institution. In 1220 he solemnly crowned his brother King _(Kralj)_ of Serbia, the natural consequence of his activities in the previous year. For this reason Stephen Nemanji['c] is called 'The First-Crowned'. He was succeeded in 1223 by his son Stephen Radoslav, and he in turn was deposed by his brother Stephen Vladislav in 1233. Both these were crowned by Sava, and Vladislav married the daughter of Tsar John Asen II, under whom Bulgaria was then at the height of her power. Sava journeyed to Palestine, and on his return paid a visit to the Bulgarian court at Tirnovo, where he died in 1236. His body was brought to Serbia and buried in the monastery of Mile[)s]evo, built by Vladislav. This extremely able churchman and politician, who did a great deal for the peaceful development of his country, was canonized and is regarded as the patron saint of Serbia. The reign of Vladislav's son and successor, Stephen Uro[)s] I (1242-76), was characterized by economic development and the strengthening of the internal administration. In external affairs he made no conquests, but defeated a combination of the Bulgarians with Ragusa against him, and after the war the Bulgarian ruler married his daughter. In his wars against Hungary he was unsuccessful, and the Magyars remained in possession of a large part of northern Serbia. In 1276 he was deposed by his son, Stephen Dragutin, who in his turn, after an unsuccessful war against the Greeks, again masters of Constantinople since 1261, was deposed and succeeded by his brother, Stephen Uro[)s] II, named Milutin, in 1282. This king ruled from 1282 till 1321, and during his reign the country made very great material progress; its mineral wealth especially, which included gold and silver mines, began to be exploited. He extended the boundaries of his kingdom in the north, making the Danube and the Save the frontier. The usual revolt against paternal authority was made by his son Stephen, but was unsuccessful, and the rebel was banished to Constantinople. It was the custom of the Serbian kings to give appanages to their sons, and the inevitable consequence of this system was the series of provincial rebellions which occurred in almost every reign. When the revolt succeeded, the father (or brother) was granted in his turn a small appanage. In this case it was the son who was exiled, but he was recalled in 1319 and a reconciliation took place. Milutin died in 1321 and was succeeded by his son, Stephen Uro[)s] III, who reigned till 1331. He is known as Stephen De[)c]anski, after the memorial church which he built at De[)c]ani in western Serbia. His reign was signalized by a great defeat of the combined Bulgarians and Greeks at Kustendil in Macedonia in 1330. The following year his son, Stephen Du[)s]an, rebelled against him and deposed him. Stephen Du[)s]an, who reigned from 1331 till 1355, was Serbia's greatest ruler, and under him the country reached its utmost limits. Provincial and family revolts and petty local disputes with such places as Ragusa became a thing of the past, and he undertook conquest on a grand scale. Between 1331 and 1344 he subjected all Macedonia, Albania, Thessaly, and Epirus. He was careful to keep on good terms with Ragusa and with Hungary, then under Charles Robert. He married the sister of the Bulgarian ruler, and during his reign Bulgaria was completely under Serbian supremacy. The anarchy and civil war which had become perennial at Constantinople, and the weakening of the Greek Empire in face of the growing power of the Turks, no doubt to some extent explain the facility and rapidity of his conquests; nevertheless his power was very formidable, and his success inspired considerable alarm in western Europe. This was increased when, in 1345, he proclaimed his country an empire. He first called together a special Church council, at which the Serbian Church, an archbishopric, whose centre was then at Pe['c] (in Montenegro, Ipek in Turkish), was proclaimed a Patriarchate, with Archbishop Joannice as Patriarch; then this prelate, together with the Bulgarian Patriarch, Simeon, and Nicholas, Archbishop of Okhrida, crowned Stephen Tsar of the Serbs, Bulgars, and Greeks. Upon this the Patriarch of Constantinople gave himself the vain satisfaction of anathematizing the whole of Serbia, as a punishment for this insubordination. In 1353 the Pope, Innocent VI, persuaded King Louis of Hungary to undertake a crusade against Serbia in the name of Catholicism, but Stephen defeated him and re-established his frontier along the Save and Danube. Later he conquered the southern half of Dalmatia, and extended his empire as far north as the river Cetina. In 1354 Stephen Du[)s]an himself approached the Pope, offering to acknowledge his spiritual supremacy, if he would support him against the Hungarians and the Turks. The Pope sent him an embassy, but eventually Stephen could not agree to the papal conditions, and concluded an alliance, of greater practical utility, with the Venetians. In 1355, however, he suddenly died, at the age of forty-six, and thus the further development and aggrandisement of his country was prematurely arrested. Stephen Du[)s]an made a great impression on his contemporaries, both by his imposing personal appearance and by his undoubted wisdom and ability. He was especially a great legislator, and his remarkable code of laws, compiled in 1349 and enlarged in 1354, is, outside his own country, his greatest title to fame. During Stephen Du[)s]an's reign the political centre of Serbia, which had for many years gradually tended to shift southwards towards Macedonia, was at Skoplje (�sküb in Turkish), which he made his capital. Stephen Du[)s]an's empire extended from the Adriatic in the west to the river Maritsa in the east, from the Save and Danube in the north to the Aegean; it included all the modern kingdoms of Serbia, Montenegro, Albania, and most of Greece, Dalmatia as far north as the river Cetina, as well as the fertile Morava valley, with Nish and Belgrade--the whole eastern part of Serbia, which had for long been under either Bulgar or Magyar control. It did not include the cities of Salonika or Ragusa, nor any considerable part of the modern kingdom of Bulgaria, nor Bosnia, Croatia, North Dalmatia, nor Slavonia (between the Save and Drave), ethnologically all purely Serb lands. From the point of view of nationality, therefore, its boundaries were far from ideal. Stephen Du[)s]an was succeeded by his son, known as Tsar Uro[)s], but he was as weak as his father had been strong. Almost as soon as he succeeded to the throne, disorders, rebellions, and dissensions broke out and the empire rapidly fell to pieces. With Serbia, as with Bulgaria, the empire entirely hinged on the personality of one man, and when he was gone chaos returned. Such an event for Serbia at this juncture was fatal, as a far more formidable foe than the ruler's rebellious relations was advancing against it. The Turkish conquests were proceeding apace; they had taken Gallipoli in 1354 and Demotika and Adrianople in 1361. The Serbs, who had already had an unsuccessful brush with the advance guard of the new invaders near Demotika in 1351, met them again on the Maritsa river in 1371, and were completely defeated. Several of the upstart princes who had been pulling Stephen Du[)s]an's empire to pieces perished, and Tsar Uro[)s] only survived the battle of the Maritsa two months; he was unmarried, and with him died the Nemanja dynasty and the Serbian Empire. After this disaster the unity of the Serbian state was completely destroyed, and it has never since been restored in the same measure. That part of the country to the south of Skoplje fell completely under Turkish control; it was here that the famous national hero, Marko Kraljevi['c] (or King's son), renowned for his prowess, ruled as a vassal prince and mercenary soldier of the Turks; his father was one of the rebel princes who fell at the battle of the river Maritsa in 1371. North of Skoplje, Serbia, with Kru[)s]evac as a new political centre, continued to lead an independent but precarious existence, much reduced in size and glory, under a native ruler, Prince Lazar; all the conquests of Stephen Du[)s]an were lost, and the important coastal province of Zeta, which later developed into Montenegro, had broken away and proclaimed its autonomy directly after the death of Tsar Uro[)s]. In 1375 a formal reconciliation was effected with the Patriarch of Constantinople; the ban placed on the Serbian Church in 1352 was removed and the independence of the Serbian Patriarchate of Pe['c] (Ipek) recognised. Meanwhile neither Greeks, Bulgars, nor Serbs were allowed any peace by the Turks. In 1389 was fought the great battle of Kosovo Polje, or the Field of Blackbirds, a large plain in Old Serbia, at the southern end of which is Skoplje. At this battle Serbian armies from all the Serb lands, including Bosnia, joined together in defence of their country for the last time. The issue of the battle was for some time in doubt, but was decided by the treachery and flight at the critical moment of one of the Serb leaders, Vuk Brankovi['c], son-in-law of Prince Lazar, with a large number of troops. Another dramatic incident was the murder of Sultan Murad in his tent by another Serbian leader, Milo[)s] Obili['c], who, accused of treachery by his own countrymen, vowed he would prove his good faith, went over to the Turks and, pretending to be a traitor, gained admission to the Sultan's presence and proved his patriotism by killing him. The momentary dismay was put an end to by the energetic conduct of Bayezid, son of Murad, who rallied the Turkish troops and ultimately inflicted total defeat on the Serbians. From the effects of this battle Serbia never recovered; Prince Lazar was captured and executed; his wife, Princess Milica, had to give her daughter to Bayezid in marriage, whose son thus ultimately claimed possession of Serbia by right of inheritance. Princess Milica and her son Stephen continued to live at Kru[)s]evac, but Serbia was already a tributary of Turkey. In the north, Hungary profited by the course of events and occupied Belgrade and all northern Serbia, but in 1396 the Turks defeated the Magyars severely at the battle of Nikopolis, on the Danube, making the Serbs under Stephen fight on the Turkish side. Stephen also had to help Sultan Bajazet against the Tartars, and fought at the battle of Angora, in 1402, when Tamerlane captured Bayezid. After Stephen returned to Serbia he made an alliance with Hungary, which gave him back Belgrade and northern Serbia; it was at this time (1403) that Belgrade first became the capital, the political centre having in the course of fifty years moved from the Vardar to the Danube. The disorders which followed the defeat of Bayezid gave some respite to the Serbs, but Sultan Murad II (1421-51) again took up arms against him, and invaded Serbia as far as Kru[)s]evac. At the death of Stephen (Lazarevi['c]), in 1427, he was succeeded as _Despot_ by his nephew, George Brankovi['c]; but the Sultan, claiming Serbia as his own, immediately declared war on him. The Serbian ruler had to abandon Belgrade to the Magyars, and Nish and Kru[)s]evac to the Turks. He then built and fortified the town of Smederevo (or Semendria) lower down on the Danube, in 1428, and made this his capital. He gave his daughter in marriage to the Sultan, but in spite of this war soon broke out again, and in 1441 the Turks were masters of nearly the whole of Serbia. Later George Brankovi['c] made another alliance with Hungary, and in 1444, with the help of John Hunyadi, defeated the Turks and liberated the whole of Serbia as far as the Adriatic, though he remained a tributary of the Sultan. The same year, however, the Magyars broke the treaty of peace just concluded with the Turks, and marched against them under their Polish king, Ladislas; this ended in the disastrous battle of Varna, on the Black Sea, where the king lost his life. In 1451 Sultan Murad II died and was succeeded by the Sultan Mohammed. In 1453 this sultan captured Constantinople (Adrianople had until then been the Turkish capital); in 1456 his armies were besieging Belgrade, but were defeated by John Hunyadi, who, unfortunately for the Serbs, died of the plague shortly afterwards. George Brankovi['c] died the same year, and at his death general disorder spread over the country. The Turks profited by this, overran the whole of Serbia, and in 1459 captured Smederevo, the last Serbian stronghold. Meanwhile Bosnia had been for nearly a hundred years enjoying a false security as an independent Serb kingdom. Its rulers had hitherto been known by the title of _Ban_, and were all vassals of the King of Hungary; but in 1377 Ban Tvrtko profited by the embarrassments of his suzerain in Poland and proclaimed himself king, the neighbouring kingdom of Serbia having, after 1371, ceased to exist, and was duly crowned in Saint Sava's monastery of Mile[)s]evo. The internal history of the kingdom was even more turbulent than had been that of Serbia. To the endemic troubles of succession and alternating alliances and wars with foreign powers were added those of confession. Bosnia was always a no man's land as regards religion; it was where the Eastern and Western Churches met, and consequently the rivalry between them there was always, as it is now, intense and bitter. The Bogomil heresy, too, early took root in Bosnia and became extremely popular; it was the obvious refuge for those who did not care to become involved in the strife of the Churches. One of the kings of Bosnia, Stephen Thomas, who reigned from 1444 till 1461, was himself a Bogomil, and when at the insistence of the Pope and of the King of Hungary, whose friendship he was anxious to retain, he renounced his heresy, became ostensibly a Roman Catholic, and began to persecute the Bogomils, he brought about a revolution. The rebels fled to the south of Bosnia, to the lands of one Stephen, who sheltered them, proclaimed his independence of Bosnia, and on the strength of the fact that Saint Sava's monastery of Mile[)s]evo was in his territory, announced himself Herzog, or Duke (in Serbian Herceg, though the real Serb equivalent is _Vojvoda_) of Saint Sava, ever since when (1448) that territory has been called Hercegovina. In spite of many promises, neither the Pope nor the King of Hungary did anything to help Bosnia when the Turks began to invade the country after their final subjection of Serbia in 1459. In 1463 they invaded Bosnia and pursued, captured, and slew the last king; their conquest of the country was complete and rapid. A great exodus of the Serb population took place to the south, west, and north; but large numbers, especially of the landowning class, embraced the faith of their conquerors in order to retain possession of their property. In 1482 a similar fate befell Hercegovina. Albania had already been conquered after stubborn resistance in 1478. There remained only the mountainous coastal province of Zeta, which had been an independent principality ever since 1371. Just as inland Serbia had perished between the Turkish hammer and the Hungarian anvil, so maritime Serbia was crushed between Turkey and Venice, only its insignificance and inaccessibility giving it a longer lease of independent life. Ivan Crnojevi['c], one of the last independent rulers of Zeta, who had to fly to Italy in 1480, abandoning his capital, [)Z]abljak, to the Turks, returned in 1481, when the death of Sultan Mohammed temporarily raised the hopes of the mountaineers, and founded Cetinje and made it his capital. His son George, who succeeded him and ruled from 1490 till 1496, is famous as having set up the first Serbian printing-press there. Its activities were naturally not encouraged by the Turkish conquest, but it was of great importance to the national Serbian Church, for which books were printed with it. In 1496, Venice having wisely made peace with the Sultan some years previously, this last independent scrap of Serb territory was finally incorporated in the Turkish dominions. At the end of the fifteenth century the Turks were masters of all the Serb lands except Croatia, Slavonia, and parts of Dalmatia, which belonged to Hungary, and the Dalmatian coast and islands, which were Venetian. The Turkish conquest of Serbia, which began in 1371 at the battle of the Maritsa, and was rendered inevitable by the battle of Kosovo Polje, in 1389, thus took a hundred and twenty-five years to complete. 16 _The Turkish Dominion_, 1496-1796 The lot of the Serbs under Turkish rule was different from that of their neighbours the Bulgars; and though it was certainly not enviable, it was undoubtedly better. The Turks for various reasons never succeeded in subduing Serbia and the various Serb lands as completely as they had subdued, or rather annihilated, Bulgaria. The Serbs were spread over a far larger extent of territory than were the Bulgars, they were further removed from the Turkish centre, and the wooded and mountainous nature of their country facilitated even more than in the case of Bulgaria the formation of bands of brigands and rebels and militated against its systematic policing by the Turks. The number of centres of national life, Serbia proper, Bosnia, Hercogovina, and Montenegro, to take them in the chronological order of their conquest by the Turks, had been notoriously a source of weakness to the Serbian state, as is still the case to-day, but at the same time made it more difficult for the Turks to stamp out the national consciousness. What still further contributed to this difficulty was the fact that many Serbs escaped the oppression of Turkish rule by emigrating to the neighbouring provinces, where they found people of their own race and language, even though of a different faith. The tide of emigration flowed in two directions, westwards into Dalmatia and northwards into Slavonia and Hungary. It had begun already after the final subjection of Serbia proper and Bosnia by the Turks in 1459 and 1463, but after the fall of Belgrade, which was the outpost of Hungary against the Turks, in 1521, and the battle of Mohacs, in 1526, when the Turks completely defeated the Magyars, it assumed great proportions. As the Turks pushed their conquests further north, the Serbs migrated before them; later on, as the Turks receded, large Serb colonies sprang up all over southern Hungary, in the Banat (the country north of the Danube and east of the Theiss), in Syrmia (or Srem, in Serbian, the extreme eastern part of Slavonia, between the Save and the Danube), in Ba[)c]ka (the country between the Theiss and Danube), and in Baranya (between the Danube and the Drave). All this part of southern Hungary and Croatia was formed by the Austrians into a military borderland against Turkey, and the Croats and immigrant Serbs were organized as military colonists with special privileges, on the analogy of the Cossacks in southern Russia and Poland. In Dalmatia the Serbs played a similar rôle in the service of Venice, which, like Austria-Hungary, was frequently at war with the Turks. During the sixteenth century Ragusa enjoyed its greatest prosperity; it paid tribute to the Sultan, was under his protection, and never rebelled. It had a quasi monopoly of the trade of the entire Balkan peninsula. It was a sanctuary both for Roman Catholic Croats and for Orthodox Serbs, and sometimes acted as intermediary on behalf of its co-religionists with the Turkish authorities, with whom it wielded great influence. Intellectually also it was a sort of Serb oasis, and the only place during the Middle Ages where Serbian literature was able to flourish. Montenegro during the sixteenth century formed part of the Turkish province of Scutari. Here, as well as in Serbia proper, northern Macedonia (known after the removal northwards of the political centre, in the fourteenth century, as Old Serbia), Bosnia, and Hercegovina, the Turkish rule was firmest, but not harshest, during the first half of the sixteenth century, when the power of the Ottoman Empire was at its height. Soon after the fall of Smederevo, in 1459, the Patriarchate of Pe['c] (Ipek) was abolished, the Serbian Church lost its independence, was merged in the Greco-Bulgar Archbishopric of Okhrida (in southern Macedonia), and fell completely under the control of the Greeks. In 1557, however, through the influence of a Grand Vizier of Serb nationality, the Patriarchate of Pe['c] was revived. The revival of this centre of national life was momentous; through its agency the Serbian monasteries were restored, ecclesiastical books printed, and priests educated, and more fortunate than the Bulgarian national Church, which remained under Greek management, it was able to focus the national enthusiasms and aspirations and keep alive with hope the flame of nationality amongst those Serbs who had not emigrated. Already, in the second half of the sixteenth century, people began to think that Turkey's days in Europe were numbered, and they were encouraged in this illusion by the battle of Lepanto (1571). But the seventeenth century saw a revival of Turkish power; Krete was added to their empire, and in 1683 they very nearly captured Vienna. In the war which followed their repulse, and in which the victorious Austrians penetrated as far south as Skoplje, the Serbs took part against the Turks; but when later the Austrians were obliged to retire, the Serbs, who had risen against the Turks at the bidding of their Patriarch Arsen III, had to suffer terrible reprisals at their hands, with the result that another wholesale emigration, with the Patriarch at its head, took place into the Austro-Hungarian military borderland. This time it was the very heart of Serbia which was abandoned, namely, Old Serbia and northern Macedonia, including Pe['c] and Prizren. The vacant Patriarchate was for a time filled by a Greek, and the Albanians, many of whom were Mohammedans and therefore Turcophil, spread northwards and eastwards into lands that had been Serb since the seventh century. From the end of the seventeenth century, however, the Turkish power began unmistakably to wane. The Treaty of Carlowitz (1699) left the Turks still in possession of Syrmia (between the Danube and Save) and the Banat (north of the Danube), but during the reign of the Emperor Charles VI their retreat was accelerated. In 1717 Prince Eugen of Savoy captured Belgrade, then, as now, a bulwark of the Balkan peninsula against invasion from the north, and by the Treaty of Passarowitz (Po[)z]arevac, on the Danube), in 1718, Turkey not only retreated definitively south of the Danube and the Save, but left a large part of northern Serbia in Austrian hands. By the same treaty Venice secured possession of the whole of Dalmatia, where it had already gained territory by the Treaty of Curlowitz in 1699. But the Serbs soon found out that alien populations fare little better under Christian rule, when they are not of the same confession as their rulers, than under Mohammedan. The Orthodox Serbs in Dalmatia suffered thenceforward from relentless persecution at the hands of the Roman Catholics. In Austria-Hungary too, and in that part of Serbia occupied by the Austrians after 1718, the Serbs discovered that the Austrians, when they had beaten the Turks largely by the help of Serbian levies, were very different from the Austrians who had encouraged the Serbs to settle in their country and form military colonies on their frontiers to protect them from Turkish invasion. The privileges promised them when their help had been necessary were disregarded as soon as their services could be dispensed with. Austrian rule soon became more oppressive than Turkish, and to the Serbs' other woes was now added religious persecution. The result of all this was that a counter-emigration set in and the Serbs actually began to return to their old homes in Turkey. Another war between Austria-Hungary and Turkey broke out in 1737, in which the Austrians were unsuccessful. Prince Eugen no longer led them, and though the Serbs were again persuaded by their Patriarch, Arsen IV, to rise against the Turks, they only did so half-heartedly. By the Treaty of Belgrade, in 1739, Austria had to withdraw north of the Save and Danube, evacuating all northern Serbia in favour of the Turks. From this time onwards the lot of the Serbs, both in Austria-Hungary and in Turkey, went rapidly from bad to worse. The Turks, as the power of their empire declined, and in return for the numerous Serb revolts, had recourse to measures of severe repression; amongst others was that of the final abolition of the Patriarchate of Peé in 1766, whereupon the control of the Serbian Church in Turkey passed entirely into the hands of the Greek Patriarchate of Constantinople. The Austrian Government similarly, perceiving now for the first time the elements of danger which the resuscitation of the Serbian nationality would contain for the rule of the Hapsburgs, embarked on a systematic persecution of the Orthodox Serbs in southern Hungary and Slavonia. During the reign of Maria Theresa (1740-80), whose policy was to conciliate the Magyars, the military frontier zone was abolished, a series of repressive measures was passed against those Serbs who refused to become Roman Catholics, and the Serbian nationality was refused official recognition. The consequence of this persecution was a series of revolts which were all quelled with due severity, and finally the emigration of a hundred thousand Serbs to southern Russia, where they founded New Serbia in 1752-3. During the reigns of Joseph II (1780-90) and Leopold II (1790-2) their treatment at the hands of the Magyars somewhat improved. From the beginning of the eighteenth century Montenegro began to assume greater importance in the extremely gradual revival of the national spirit of the Serbs. During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries it had formed part of the Turkish dominions, though, thanks to the inaccessible nature of its mountain fastnesses, Turkish authority was never very forcibly asserted. It was ruled by a prince-bishop, and its religious independence thus connoted a certain secular freedom of thought if not of action. In the seventeenth century warlike encounters between the Turks and the Montenegrins increased in frequency, and the latter tried to enlist the help of Venice on their side but with indifferent success. The fighting in Montenegro was often rather civil in character, being caused by the ill-feeling which existed between the numerous Montenegrins who had become Mohammedans and those who remained faithful to their national Church. In the course of the eighteenth century the rôle which fell to Montenegro became more important. In all the other Serb countries the families which naturally took a leading part in affairs were either extinct or in exile, as in Serbia, or had become Mohammedan, and therefore to all intents and purposes Turkish, as in Bosnia and Hercegovina. Ragusa, since the great earthquake in 1667, had greatly declined in power and was no longer of international importance. In Montenegro, on the other hand, there had survived both a greater independence of spirit (Montenegro was, after all, the ancient Zeta, and had always been a centre of national life) and a number of at any rate eugenic if not exactly aristocratic Serb families; these families naturally looked on themselves and on their bishop as destined to play an important part in the resistance to and the eventual overthrow of the Turkish dominion. The prince-bishop had to be consecrated by the Patriarch of Pe['c], and in 1700 Patriarch Arsen III consecrated one Daniel, of the house (which has been ever since then and is now still the reigning dynasty of Montenegro) of Petrovi['c]-Njego[)s], to this office, after he had been elected to it by the council of notables at Cetinje. Montenegro, isolated from the Serbs in the north, and precluded from participating with them in the wars between Austria and Turkey by the intervening block of Bosnia, which though Serb by nationality was solidly Mohammedan and therefore pro-Turkish, carried on its feuds with the Turks independently of the other Serbs. But when Peter the Great initiated his anti-Turkish policy, and, in combination with the expansion of Russia to the south and west, began to champion the cause of the Balkan Christians, he developed intercourse with Montenegro and laid the foundation of that friendship between the vast Russian Empire and the tiny Serb principality on the Adriatic which has been a quaint and persistent feature of eastern European politics ever since. This intimacy did not prevent the Turks giving Montenegro many hard blows whenever they had the time or energy to do so, and did not ensure any special protective clauses in favour of the mountain state whenever the various treaties between Russia and Turkey were concluded. Its effect was rather psychological and financial. From the time when the _Vladika_ (= Bishop) Daniel first visited Peter the Great, in 1714, the rulers of Montenegro often made pilgrimages to the Russian capital, and were always sure of finding sympathy as well as pecuniary if not armed support. Bishops in the Orthodox Church are compulsorily celibate, and the succession in Montenegro always descended from uncle to nephew. When Peter I Petrovi['c]-Njego[)s] succeeded, in 1782, the Patriarchate of Pe['c] was no more, so he had to get permission from the Austrian Emperor Joseph II to be consecrated by the Metropolitan of Karlovci (Carlowitz), who was then head of the Serbian national Church. About the same time (1787) an alliance was made between Russia and Austria-Hungary to make war together on Turkey and divide the spoils between them. Although a great rising against Turkey was organised at the same time (1788) in the district of [)S]umadija, in Serbia, by a number of Serb patriots, of whom Kara-George was one and a certain Captain Ko[)c]a, after whom the whole war is called Ko[)c]ina Krajina (=Ko[)c]a's country), another, yet the Austrians were on the whole unsuccessful, and on the death of Joseph II, in 1790, a peace was concluded between Austria and Turkey at Svishtov, in Bulgaria, by which Turkey retained the whole of Bosnia and Serbia, and the Save and Danube remained the frontier between the two countries. Meanwhile the Serbs of Montenegro had joined in the fray and had fared better, inflicting some unpleasant defeats on the Turks under their bishop, Peter I. These culminated in two battles in 1796 (the Montenegrins, not being mentioned in the treaty of peace, had continued fighting), in which the Turks were driven back to Scutari. With this triumph, which the Emperor Paul of Russia signalized by decorating the Prince-Bishop Peter, the independence of the modern state of Montenegro, the first Serb people to recover its liberty, was _de facto_ established. 17 _The Liberation of Serbia under Kara-George_ (1804-13) _and Milo[)s] Obrenovi['c]_ (1815-30): 1796-1830 The liberation of Serbia from the Turkish dominion and its establishment as an independent state were matters of much slower and more arduous accomplishment than were the same processes in the other Balkan countries. One reason for this was that Serbia by its peculiar geographical position was cut off from outside help. It was easy for the western powers to help Greece with their fleets, and for Russia to help Rumania and, later, Bulgaria directly with its army, because communication between them was easy. But Serbia on the one hand was separated from the sea, first by Dalmatia, which was always in foreign possession, and then by Bosnia, Hercegovina, and the _sandjak_ (or province) of Novi-Pazar, all of which territories, though ethnically Serb, were strongholds of Turkish influence owing to their large Mohammedan population. The energies of Montenegro, also cut off from the sea by Dalmatia and Turkey, were absorbed in self-defence, though it gave Serbia all the support which its size permitted. Communication, on the other hand, between Russia and Serbia was too difficult to permit of military help being rapidly and effectively brought to bear upon the Turks from that quarter. Bessarabia, Wallachia, and Moldavia were then still under Turkish control, and either they had to be traversed or the Danube had to be navigated from its mouth upwards through Turkish territory. The only country which could have helped Serbia was Austria, but as it was against their best interests to do so, the Austrians naturally did all they could not to advance, but to retard the Serbian cause. As a result of all this Serbia, in her long struggle against the Turks, had to rely principally on its own resources, though Russian diplomacy several times saved the renascent country from disaster. Another reason for the slowness of the emancipation and development of modern Serbia has been the proneness of its people to internal dissension. There was no national dynasty on whom the leadership of the country would naturally devolve after the first successful revolution against Turkish rule, there was not even any aristocracy left, and no foreign ruler was ever asked for by the Serbs or was ever imposed on them by the other nations as in the case of Greece, Rumania, and Bulgaria. On the other hand the rising against Turkey was a rising of the whole people, and it was almost inevitable that as soon as some measure of independence was gained the unity the Serbs had shown when fighting against their oppressors should dissolve and be replaced by bitter rivalries and disputes amongst the various local leaders who had become prominent during the rebellion. These rivalries early in the nineteenth century resolved themselves into a blood-feud between two families, the Karagjorgjevi['c] and the Obrenovi['c], a quarrel that filled Serbian history and militated against the progress of the Serb people throughout the nineteenth century. The same reasons which restricted the growth of the political independence of Serbia have also impeded, or rather made impossible, its economic development and material prosperity. Until recent years Austria-Hungary and Turkey between them held Serbia territorially in such a position that whenever Serbia either demurred at its neighbours' tariffs or wished to retaliate by means of its own, the screw was immediately applied and economic strangulation threatened. Rumania and Bulgaria economically could never be of help to Serbia, because the products and the requirements of all three are identical, and Rumania and Bulgaria cannot be expected to facilitate the sale of their neighbours' live stock and cereals, when their first business is to sell their own, while the cost of transit of imports from western Europe through those countries is prohibitive. After the unsuccessful rebellion of 1788, already mentioned, Serbia remained in a state of pseudo-quiescence for some years. Meanwhile the authority of the Sultan in Serbia was growing ever weaker and the real power was wielded by local Turkish officials, who exploited the country, looked on it as their own property, and enjoyed semi-independence. Their exactions and cruelties were worse than had been those of the Turks in the old days, and it was against them and their troops, not against those of the Sultan, that the first battles in the Serbian war of independence were fought. It was during the year 1803 that the Serbian leaders first made definite plans for the rising which eventually took place in the following year. The ringleader was George Petrovi['c], known as Black George, or Kara-George, and amongst his confederates was Milo[)s] Obrenovi['c]. The centre of the conspiracy was at Topola, in the district of [)S]umadija in central Serbia (between the Morava and the Drina rivers), the native place of Kara-George. The first two years of fighting between the Serbians and, first, the provincial janissaries, and, later, the Sultan's forces, fully rewarded the bravery and energy of the insurgents. By the beginning of 1807 they had virtually freed all northern Serbia by their own unaided efforts and captured the towns of Po[)z]arevac, Smederevo, Belgrade, and [)S]abac. The year 1804 is also notable as the date of the formal opening of diplomatic relations directly between Serbia and Russia. At this time the Emperor Alexander I was too preoccupied with Napoleon to be able to threaten the Sultan (Austerlitz took place in November 1805), but he gave the Serbs financial assistance and commended their cause to the especial care of his ambassador at Constantinople. In 1807 war again broke out between Russia and Turkey, but after the Peace of Tilsit (June 1807) fighting ceased also between the Turks and the Russians and the Serbs, not before the Russians had won several successes against the Turks on the Lower Danube. It was during the two following years of peace that dissensions first broke out amongst the Serbian leaders; fighting the Turks was the sole condition of existence which prevented them fighting each other. In 1809-10 Russia and the Serbs again fought the Turks, at first without success, but later with better fortune. In 1811 Kara-George was elected _Gospodar_, or sovereign, by a popular assembly, but Serbia still remained a Turkish province. At the end of that year the Russians completely defeated the Turks at Rustchuk in Bulgaria, and, if all had gone well, Serbia might there and then have achieved complete independence. But Napoleon was already preparing his invasion and Russia had to conclude peace with Turkey in a hurry, which necessarily implied that the Sultan obtained unduly favourable terms. In the Treaty of Bucarest between the two countries signed in May 1812, the Serbs were indeed mentioned, and promised vague internal autonomy and a general amnesty, but all the fortified towns they had captured were to be returned to the Turks, and the few Russian troops who had been helping the Serbs in Serbia had to withdraw. Negotiations between the Turks and the Serbs for the regulation of their position were continued throughout 1812, but finally the Turks refused all their claims and conditions and, seeing the European powers preoccupied with their own affairs, invaded the country from Bosnia in the west, and also from the east and south, in August 1813. The Serbs, left entirely to their own resources, succumbed before the superior forces of the Turks, and by the beginning of October the latter were again masters of the whole country and in possession of Belgrade. Meanwhile Kara-George, broken in health and unable to cope with the difficulties of the situation, which demanded successful strategy both against the overwhelming forces of the Turks in the field and against the intrigues of his enemies at home, somewhat ignominiously fled across the river to Semlin in Hungary, and was duly incarcerated by the Austrian authorities. The news of Napoleon's defeat at Leipsic (October 1813) arrived just after that of the re-occupation of Belgrade by the Turks, damped _feu-de-joie_ which they were firing at Constantinople, and made them rather more conciliatory and lenient to the Serbian rebels. But this attitude did not last long, and the Serbs soon had reason to make fresh efforts to regain their short-lived liberty. The Congress of Vienna met in the autumn of 1814, and during its whole course Serbian emissaries gave the Russian envoys no peace. But with the return of Napoleon to France in the spring of 1815 and the break-up of the Congress, all that Russia could do was, through its ambassador at Constantinople, to threaten invasion unless the Turks left the Serbs alone. Nevertheless, conditions in Serbia became so intolerable that another rebellion soon took shape, this time under Milo[)s] Obrenovi['c]. This leader was no less patriotic than his rival, Kara-George, but he was far more able and a consummate diplomat. Kara-George had possessed indomitable courage, energy, and will-power, but he could not temporize, and his arbitrary methods of enforcing discipline and his ungovernable temper had made him many enemies. While the credit for the first Serbian revolt (1804-13) undoubtedly belongs chiefly to him, the second revolt owed its more lasting success to the skill of Milo[)s] Obrenovi['c]. The fighting started at Takovo, the home of the Obrenovi['c] family, in April 1815, and after many astonishing successes against the Turks, including the capture of the towns of Rudnik, [)C]a[)c]ak, Po[)z]arevac, and Kraljevo, was all over by July of the same year. The Turks were ready with large armies in the west in Bosnia, and also south of the Morava river, to continue the campaign and crush the rebellion, but the news of the final defeat of Napoleon, and the knowledge that Russia would soon have time again to devote attention to the Balkans, withheld their appetites for revenge, and negotiations with the successful rebels were initiated. During the whole of this period, from 1813 onwards, Milo[)s] Obrenovi['c], as head of a district, was an official of the Sultan in Serbia, and it was one of his principles never to break irreparably with the Turks, who were still suzerains of the country. At the same time, owing to his skill and initiative he was recognized as the only real leader of the movement for independence. From the cessation of the rebellion in 1815 onwards he himself personally conducted negotiations in the name of his people with the various pashas who were deputed to deal with him. While these negotiations went on and the armistice was in force, he was confronted, or rather harassed from behind, by a series of revolts against his growing authority on the part of his jealous compatriots. In June 1817 Kara-George, who had been in Russia after being released by the Austrians in 1814, returned surreptitiously to Serbia, encouraged by the brighter aspect which affairs in his country seemed to be assuming. But the return of his most dangerous rival was as unwelcome to Milo[)s] as it was to the Turkish authorities at Belgrade, and, measures having been concerted between them, Kara-George was murdered on July 26,1817, and the first act in the blood-feud between the two families thus committed. In November of the same year a _skup[)s]tina_, or national assembly, was held at Belgrade, and Milo[)s] Obrenovi['c], whose position was already thoroughly assured, was elected hereditary prince (_knez_) of the country. Meanwhile events of considerable importance for the future of the Serb race had been happening elsewhere. Dalmatia, the whole of which had been in the possession of Venice since the Treaty of Carlowitz in 1699, passed into the hands of Austria by the Treaty of Campo Formio in 1797, when the Venetian republic was extinguished by Napoleon. The Bocche di Cuttaro, a harbour both strategically and commercially of immense value, which had in the old days belonged to the Serb principality of Zeta or Montenegro, and is its only natural outlet on the Adriatic, likewise became Venetian in 1699 and Austrian in 1797, one year after the successful rebellion of the Montenegrins against the Turks. By the Treaty of Pressburg between France and Austria Dalmatia became French in 1805. But the Montenegrins, supported by the Russians, resisted the new owners and occupied the Bocche; at the Peace of Tilsit in 1807, however, this important place was assigned to France by Russia, and Montenegro had to submit to its loss. In 1806 the French occupied Ragusa, and in 1808 abolished the independence of the ancient Serb city-republic. In 1812 the Montenegrins, helped by the Russians and British, again expelled the French and reoccupied Cattaro; but Austria was by now fully alive to the meaning this harbour would have once it was in the possession of Montenegro, and after the Congress of Vienna in 1815 took definitive possession of it as well as of all the rest of Dalmatia, thus effecting the complete exclusion of the Serb race for all political and commercial purposes from the Adriatic, its most natural and obvious means of communication with western Europe. Though Milo[)s] had been elected prince by his own people, it was long before he was recognized as such by the Porte. His efforts for the regularization of his position entailed endless negotiations in Constantinople; these were enlivened by frequent anti-Obrenovi['c] revolts in Serbia, all of which Milo[)s] successfully quelled. The revolution in Greece in 1821 threw the Serbian question from the international point of view into the shade, but the Emperor Nicholas I, who succeeded his brother Alexander I on the Russian throne in 1825, soon showed that he took a lively and active interest in Balkan affairs. Pan-Slavism had scarcely become fashionable in those days, and it was still rather as the protector of its co-religionists under the Crescent that Russia intervened. In 1826 Russian and Turkish delegates met at Akerman in Bessarabia, and in September of that year signed a convention by which the Russian protectorate over the Serbs was recognized, the Serbs were granted internal autonomy, the right to trade and erect churches, schools, and printing-presses, and the Turks were forbidden to live in Serbia except in eight garrison towns; the garrisons were to be Turkish, and tribute was still to be paid to the Sultan as suzerain. These concessions, announced by Prince Milo[)s] to his people at a special _skup[)s]tina_ held at Kragujevac in 1827, evoked great enthusiasm, but the urgency of the Greek question again delayed their fulfilment. After the battle of Navarino on October 20, 1827, in which the British, French, and Russian fleets defeated the Turkish, the Turks became obstinate and refused to carry out the stipulations of the Convention of Akerman in favour of Serbia. Thereupon Russia declared war on Turkey in April 1828, and the Russian armies crossed the Danube and the Balkans and marched on Constantinople. Peace was concluded at Adrianople in 1829, and Turkey agreed to carry out immediately all the stipulations of the Treaty of Bucarest (1812) and the Convention of Akerman (1826). The details took some time to settle, but in November 1830 the _hatti-sherif_ of the Sultan, acknowledging Milo[)s] as hereditary prince of Serbia, was publicly read in Belgrade. All the concessions already promised were duly granted, and Serbia became virtually independent, but still tributary to the Sultan. Its territory included most of the northern part of the modern kingdom of Serbia, between the rivers Drina, Save, Danube, and Timok, but not the districts of Nish, Vranja, and Pirot. Turkey still retained Bosnia and Hercegovina, Macedonia, the _sandjak_ of Novi-Pazar, which separated Serbia from Montenegro, and Old Serbia (northern Macedonia). 18 _The Throes of Regeneration: Independent Serbia,_ 1830-1903 During his rule of Serbia, which lasted virtually from 1817 till 1839, Prince Milo[)s] did a very great deal for the welfare of his country. He emancipated the Serbian Church from the trammels of the Greek Patriarchate of Constantinople in 1831, from which date onwards it was ruled by a Metropolitan of Serb nationality, resident at Belgrade. He encouraged the trade of the country, a great deal of which he held in his own hands; he was in fact a sort of prototype of those modern Balkan business-kings of whom King George of Greece and King Carol of Rumania were the most notable examples. He raised an army and put it on a permanent footing, and organized the construction of roads, schools, and churches. He was, however, an autocratic ruler of the old school, and he had no inclination to share the power for the attainment of which he had laboured so many years and gone through so much. From his definite installation as hereditary prince discontent at his arbitrary methods of government amongst his ex-equals increased, and after several revolts he was forced eventually to grant a constitution in 1835. This, however, remained a dead letter, and things went on as before. Later in the same year he paid a prolonged visit to his suzerain at Constantinople, and while he was there the situation in Serbia became still more serious. After his return he was, after several years of delay and of growing unpopularity, compelled to agree to another constitution which was forced on him, paradoxically enough, by the joint efforts of the Tsar and of the Sultan, who seemed to take an unnatural pleasure in supporting the democratic Serbians against their successful colleague in autocracy, who had done so much for his turbulent subjects. Serbia even in those days was essentially and uncompromisingly democratic, but even so Milo[)s] obstinately refused to carry out the provisions of the constitution or in any way to submit to a curtailment of his power, and in 1839 he left his ungrateful principality and took refuge in Rumania, where he possessed an estate, abdicating in favour of his elder son Milan. This Prince Milan, known as Obrenovi['c] II, was seriously ill at the time of his accession, and died within a month of it. He was succeeded by his younger brother Michael, known as Obrenovi['c] III, who was then only sixteen years of age. This prince, though young, had a good head on his shoulders, and eventually proved the most gifted ruler modern Serbia has ever had. His first reign (1840-2), however, did not open well. He inaugurated it by paying a state visit to Constantinople, but the Sultan only recognized him as elective prince and insisted on his having two advisers approved and appointed by the Porte. Michael on his return showed his determination to have nothing to do with them, but this led to a rebellion headed by one of them, Vu[)c]i['c], and, though Michael's rule was not as arbitrary as his father's, he had to bow to the popular will which supported Vu[)c]i['c] and cross the river to Semlin. After a stormy interval, during which the Emperor Nicholas I tried to intervene in favour of Michael, Alexander Karagjorgjevi['c], son of Kara-George, was elected prince (1843). No sooner was this representative of the rival dynasty installed, however, than rebellions in favour of Michael occurred. These were thrown into the shade by the events of 1848, In that memorable year of revolutions the Magyars rose against Austria and the Serbs in southern Hungary rose against the Magyars. Prince Alexander resolved to send military help to his oppressed countrymen north of the Save and Danube, and, though the insurgents were unsuccessful, Prince Alexander gained in popularity amongst the Serbs by the line of action he had taken. During the Crimean War, on the other hand, Serbia remained strictly neutral, to the annoyance of the Tsar; at the Congress of Paris (1856) the exclusive protectorate of Russia was replaced by one of all the powers, and Russian influence in the western Balkans was thereby weakened. Prince Alexander's prudence, moreover, cost him his popularity, and in 1858 he in his turn had to bid farewell to his difficult countrymen. In December of the same year the veteran Prince Milo['s] Obrenovi['c] I was recalled to power as hereditary prince. His activities during his second reign were directed against Turkish influence, which was still strong, and he made efforts to have the Turkish populations removed from the eight garrison towns, including Belgrade, where they still lived in spite of the fact that their emigration had been stipulated for in 1830. Unfortunately he did not live long enough to carry out his plans, for he fell ill at Topchider, the summer palace near Belgrade, in the autumn of 1860, and died a few days afterwards. He was again succeeded by his son Michael Obrenovi['c] III, who was already thirty-six years of age. This able prince's second reign was brilliantly successful, and it was a disaster for which his foolish countrymen had to pay dearly, when, by their fault, it was prematurely cut short in 1868. His first act was with the consent of a specially summoned _skup[)s]tina_ to abolish the law by which he could only appoint and remove his counsellers with the approval of the Porte. Next he set about the organization and establishment of a regular army of 30,000 men. In 1862 an anti-Turkish rebellion broke out amongst the Serbs in Hercegovina (still, with Bosnia, a Turkish province), and the Porte, accusing Prince Michael of complicity, made warlike preparations against him. Events, however, were precipitated in such a way that, without waiting for the opening of hostilities, the Turkish general in command of the fortress of Belgrade turned his guns on the city; this provoked the intervention of the powers at Constantinople, and the entire civilian Turkish population had to quit the country (in accordance with the stipulations of 1830), only Turkish garrisons remaining in the fortresses of [)S]abac, Belgrade, Smederevo, and Kladovo, along the northern river frontier, still theoretically the boundary of the Sultan's dominions. After this success Prince Michael continued his military preparations in order to obtain final possession of the fortresses when a suitable occasion should arise. This occurred in 1866, when Austria was engaged in the struggle with Prussia, and the policy of Great Britain became less Turcophil than it had hitherto been. On April 6, 1867, the four fortresses, which had been in Serbian possession from 1804 to 1813, but had since then been garrisoned by the Turks, were delivered over to Serbia and the last Turkish soldier left Serbian soil without a shot having been fired. Though Serbia after this was still a vassal state, being tributary to the Sultan, these further steps on the road to complete independence were a great triumph, especially for Prince Michael personally. But this very triumph actuated his political opponents amongst his own countrymen, amongst whom were undoubtedly adherents of the rival dynasty, to revenge, and blind to the interests of their people they foolishly and most brutally murdered this extremely capable and conscientious prince in the deer park near Topchider on June 10, 1868. The opponents of the Obrenovi['c] dynasty were, however, baulked in their plans, and a cousin of the late prince was elected to the vacant and difficult position. This ruler, known as Milan Obrenovi['c] IV, who was only fourteen years of age at the time of his accession (1868), was of a very different character from his predecessor. The first thing that happened during his minority was the substitution of the constitution of 1838 by another one which was meant to give the prince and the national assembly much more power, but which, eventually, made the ministers supreme. The prince came of age in 1872 when he was eighteen, and he soon showed that the potential pleasures to be derived from his position were far more attractive to him than the fulfilment of its obvious duties. He found much to occupy him in Vienna and Paris and but little in Belgrade. At the same time the Serb people had lost, largely by its own faults, much of the respect and sympathy which it had acquired in Europe during Prince Michael's reign. In 1875 a formidable anti-Turkish insurrection (the last of many) broke out amongst the Serbs of Bosnia and Hercegovina, and all the efforts of the Turks to quell it were unavailing. In June 1876 Prince Milan was forced by the pressure of public opinion to declare war on Turkey in support of the 'unredeemed' Serbs of Bosnia, and Serbia was joined by Montenegro. The country was, however, not materially prepared for war, the expected sympathetic risings in other parts of Turkey either did not take place or failed, and the Turks turned their whole army on to Serbia, with the result that in October the Serbs had to appeal to the Tsar for help and an armistice was arranged, which lasted till February 1877. During the winter a conference was held in Constantinople to devise means for alleviating the lot of the Christians in Turkey, and a peace was arranged between Turkey and Serbia whereby the _status quo ante_ was restored. But after the conference the heart of Turkey was again hardened and the stipulations in favour of the Christians were not carried out. In 1877 Russia declared war on Turkey (cf. chap. 10), and in the autumn of the same year Serbia joined in. This time the armies of Prince Milan were more successful, and conquered and occupied the whole of southern Serbia including the towns and districts of Nish, Pirot, Vranja, and Leskovac, Montenegro, which had not been included in the peace of the previous winter, but had been fighting desperately and continuously against the Turks ever since it had begun actively to help the Serb rebels of Hercegovina in 1875, had a series of successes, as a result of which it obtained possession of the important localities of Nik['s]i['c], Podgorica, Budua, Antivari, and Dulcigno, the last three on the shore of the Adriatic. By the Treaty of San Stefano the future interests of both Serbia and Montenegro were jeopardised by the creation of a Great Bulgaria, but that would not have mattered if in return they had been given control of the purely Serb provinces of Bosnia and Hercegovina, which ethnically they can claim just as legitimately as Bulgaria claims most of Macedonia. The Treaty of San Stefano was, however, soon replaced by that of Berlin. By its terms both Serbia and Montenegro achieved complete independence and the former ceased to be a tributary state of Turkey. The Serbs were given the districts of southern Serbia which they had occupied, and which are all ethnically Serb except Pirot, the population of which is a sort of cross between Serb and Bulgar. The Serbs also undertook to build a railway through their country to the Turkish and Bulgarian frontiers. Montenegro was nearly doubled in size, receiving the districts of Nik['s]i['c], Podgorica, and others; certain places in the interior the Turks and Albanians absolutely refused to surrender, and to compensate for these Montenegro was given a strip of coast with the townlets of Antivari and Dulcigno. The memory of Gladstone, who specially espoused Montenegro's cause in this matter, is held in the greatest reverence in the brave little mountain country, but unfortunately the ports themselves are economically absolutely useless. Budua, higher up the Dalmatian coast, which would have been of some use, was handed over to Austria, to which country, already possessed of Cattaro and all the rest of Dalmatia, it was quite superfluous. Greatest tragedy of all for the future of the Serb race, the administration of Bosnia and Hercegovina was handed over 'temporarily' to Austria-Hungary, and Austrian garrisons were quartered throughout those two provinces, which they were able to occupy only after the most bitter armed opposition on the part of the inhabitants, and also in the Turkish _sandjak_ or province of Novi-Pazar, the ancient Raska and cradle of the Serb state; this strip of mountainous territory under Turkish administrative and Austrian military control was thus converted into a fortified wedge which effectually kept the two independent Serb states of Serbia and Montenegro apart. After all these events the Serbs had to set to work to put their enlarged house in order. But the building of railways and schools and the organization of the services cost a lot of money, and as public economy is not a Serbian virtue the debt grew rapidly. In 1882 Serbia proclaimed itself a kingdom and was duly recognized by the other nations. But King Milan did not learn to manage the affairs of his country any better as time went on. He was too weak to stand alone, and having freed himself from Turkey he threw himself into the arms of Austria, with which country he concluded a secret military convention. In 1885, when Bulgaria and 'Eastern Rumelia' successfully coalesced and Bulgaria thereby received a considerable increase of territory and power, the Serbs, prompted by jealousy, began to grow restless, and King Milan, at the instigation of Austria, foolishly declared war on Prince Alexander of Battenberg. This speedily ended in the disastrous battle of Slivnitsa (cf. chap. II); Austria had to intervene to save its victim, and Serbia got nothing for its trouble but a large increase of debt and a considerable decrease of military reputation. In addition to all this King Milan was unfortunate in his conjugal relations; his wife, the beautiful Queen Natalie, was a Russian, and as he himself had Austrian sympathies, they could scarcely be expected to agree on politics. But the strife between them extended from the sphere of international to that of personal sympathies and antipathies. King Milan was promiscuous in affairs of the heart and Queen Natalie was jealous. Scenes of domestic discord were frequent and violent, and the effect of this atmosphere on the character of their only child Alexander, who was born in 1876, was naturally bad. The king, who had for some years been very popular with, his subjects with all his failings, lost his hold on the country after the unfortunate war of 1885, and the partisans of the rival dynasty began to be hopeful once more. In 1888 King Milan gave Serbia a very much more liberal constitution, by which the ministers were for the first time made really responsible to the _skup[)s]tina_ or national assembly, replacing that of 1869, and the following year, worried by his political and domestic failures, discredited and unpopular both at home and abroad, he resigned in favour of his son Alexander, then aged thirteen. This boy, who had been brought up in what may be called a permanent storm-centre, both domestic and political, was placed under a regency, which included M. Risti['c], with a radical ministry under M. Pa[)s]i['c], an extremely able and patriotic statesman of pro-Russian sympathies, who ever since he first became prominent in 1877 had been growing in power and influence. But trouble did not cease with the abdication of King Milan. He and his wife played Box and Cox at Belgrade for the next four years, quarrelling and being reconciled, intriguing and fighting round the throne and person of their son. At last both parents agreed to leave the country and give the unfortunate youth a chance. King Milan settled in Vienna, Queen Natalie in Biarritz. In 1893 King Alexander suddenly declared himself of age and arrested all his ministers and regents one evening while they were dining with him. The next year he abrogated the constitution of 1888, under which party warfare in the Serbian parliament had been bitter and uninterrupted, obstructing any real progress, and restored that of 1869. Ever since 1889 (the date of the accession of the German Emperor) Berlin had taken more interest in Serbian affairs, and it has been alleged that it was William II who, through the wife of the Rumanian minister at his court, who was sister of Queen Natalie, influenced King Alexander in his abrupt and ill-judged decisions. It was certainly German policy to weaken and discredit Serbia and to further Austrian influence at Belgrade at the expense of that of Russia. King Milan returned for a time to Belgrade in 1897, and the reaction, favourable to Austria, which had begun in 1894, increased during his presence and under the ministry of Dr. Vladan Gjorgjevi['c], which lasted from 1897 till 1900. This state of repression caused unrest throughout the country. All its energies were absorbed in fruitless political party strife, and no material or moral progress was possible. King Alexander, distracted, solitary, and helpless in the midst of this unending welter of political intrigue, committed an extremely imprudent act in the summer of 1900. Having gone for much-needed relaxation to see his mother at Biarritz, he fell violently in love with her lady in waiting, Madame Draga Ma[)s]in, the divorced wife of a Serbian officer. Her somewhat equivocal past was in King Alexander's eyes quite eclipsed by her great beauty and her wit, which had not been impaired by conjugal infelicity. Although she was thirty-two, and he only twenty-four, he determined to marry her, and the desperate opposition of his parents, his army, his ministers, and his people, based principally on the fact that the woman was known to be incapable of child-birth, only precipitated the accomplishment of his intention. This unfortunate and headstrong action on the part of the young king, who, though deficient in tact and intuition, had plenty of energy and was by no means stupid, might have been forgiven him by his people if, as was at first thought possible, it had restored internal peace and prosperity in the country and thereby enabled it to prepare itself to take a part in the solution o£ those foreign questions which vitally affected Serb interests and were already looming on the horizon. But it did not. In 1901 King Alexander granted another constitution and for a time attempted to work with a coalition ministry; but this failed, and a term of reaction with pro-Austrian tendencies, which were favoured by the king and queen, set in. This reaction, combined with the growing disorganization of the finances and the general sense of the discredit and failure which the follies of its rulers had during the last thirty years brought on the country; completely undermined the position of the dynasty and made a catastrophe inevitable. This occurred, as is well known, on June 10, 1903, when, as the result of a military conspiracy, King Alexander, the last of the Obrenovi['c] dynasty, his wife, and her male relatives were murdered. This crime was purely political, and it is absurd to gloss it over or to explain it merely as the result of the family feud between the two dynasties. That came to an end in 1868, when the murder of Kara-George in 1817 by the agency of Milo[)s] Obrenovi['c] was avenged by the lunatic assassination of the brilliant Prince Michael Obrenovi['c] III. It is no exaggeration to say that, from the point of view of the Serbian patriot, the only salvation of his country in 1903 lay in getting rid of the Obrenovi['c] dynasty, which had become pro-Austrian, had no longer the great gifts possessed by its earlier members, and undoubtedly by its vagaries hindered the progress of Serbia both in internal and external politics. The assassination was unfortunately carried out with unnecessary cruelty, and it is this fact that made such a bad impression and for so long militated against Serbia in western Europe; but it must be remembered that civilization in the Balkans, where political murder, far from being a product of the five hundred years of Turkish dominion, has always been endemic, is not on the same level in many respects as it is in the rest of Europe. Life is one of the commodities which are still cheap in backward countries. Although King Alexander and his wife can in no sense be said to have deserved the awful fate that befell them, it is equally true that had any other course been adopted, such as deposition and exile, the wire-pulling and intriguing from outside, which had already done the country so much harm, would have become infinitely worse. Even so, it was long before things in any sense settled down. As for the alleged complicity of the rival dynasty in the crime, it is well established that that did not exist. It was no secret to anybody interested in Serbian affairs that something catastrophic was about to happen, and when the tragedy occurred it was natural to appeal to the alternative native dynasty to step into the breach. But the head of that dynasty was in no way responsible for the plot, still less for the manner in which it was carried out, and it was only after much natural hesitation and in the face of his strong disinclination that Prince Peter Karagjorgjevi['c] was induced to accept the by no means enviable, easy, or profitable task of guiding Serbia's destiny. The Serbian throne in 1903 was a source neither of glory nor of riches, and it was notoriously no sinecure. After the tragedy, the democratic constitution of 1888 was first of all restored, and then Prince Peter Karagjorgjevi['c], grandson of Kara-George, the leader of the first Serbian insurrection of 1804-13, who was at that time fifty-nine years of age, was unanimously elected king. He had married in 1883 a daughter of Prince Nicholas of Montenegro and sister of the future Queen of Italy, but she had been dead already some years at the time of his accession, leaving him with a family of two sons and a daughter. 19 _Serbia, Montenegro, and the Serbo-Croats in Austria-Hungary,_ 1903-8 It was inevitable that, after the sensation which such an event could not fail to cause in twentieth-century Europe, it should take the country where it occurred some time to live down the results. Other powers, especially those of western Europe, looked coldly on Serbia and were in no hurry to resume diplomatic intercourse, still less to offer diplomatic support. The question of the punishment and exile of the conspirators was almost impossible of solution, and only time was able to obliterate the resentment caused by the whole affair. In Serbia itself a great change took place. The new sovereign, though he laboured under the greatest possible disadvantages, by his irreproachable behaviour, modesty, tact, and strictly constitutional rule, was able to withdraw the court of Belgrade from the trying limelight to which it had become used. The public finances began to be reorganized, commerce began to improve in spite of endless tariff wars with Austria-Hungary, and attention was again diverted from home to foreign politics. With the gradual spread of education and increase of communication, and the growth of national self-consciousness amongst the Serbs and Croats of Austria-Hungary and the two independent Serb states, a new movement for the closer intercourse amongst the various branches of the Serb race for south Slav unity, as it was called, gradually began to take shape. At the same time a more definitely political agitation started in Serbia, largely inspired by the humiliating position of economic bondage in which the country was held by Austria-Hungary, and was roughly justified by the indisputable argument: 'Serbia must expand or die.' Expansion at the cost of Turkey seemed hopeless, because even the acquisition of Macedonia would give Serbia a large alien population and no maritime outlet. It was towards the Adriatic that the gaze of the Serbs was directed, to the coast which was ethnically Serbian and could legitimately be considered a heritage of the Serb race. Macedonia was also taken into account, schools and armed bands began their educative activity amongst those inhabitants of the unhappy province who were Serb, or who lived in places where Serbs had lived, or who with sufficient persuasion could be induced to call themselves Serb; but the principal stream of propaganda was directed westwards into Bosnia and Hercegovina. The antagonism between Christian and Mohammedan, Serb and Turk, was never so bitter as between Christian and Christian, Serb and German or Magyar, and the Serbs were clever enough to see that Bosnia and Hercegovina, from every point of view, was to them worth ten Macedonias, though it would he ten times more difficult to obtain. Bosnia and Hercegovina, though containing three confessions, were ethnically homogeneous, and it was realised that these two provinces were as important to Serbia and Montenegro as the rest of Italy had been to Piedmont. It must at this time be recalled in what an extraordinary way the Serb race had fortuitously been broken up into a number of quite arbitrary political divisions. Dalmatia (three per cent. of the population of which is Italian and all the rest Serb or Croat, preponderatingly Serb and Orthodox in the south and preponderating Croat or Roman Catholic in the north) was a province of Austria and sent deputies to the Reichsrath at Vienna; at the same time it was territorially isolated from Austria and had no direct railway connexion with any country except a narrow-gauge line into Bosnia. Croatia and Slavonia, preponderatingly Roman Catholic, were lands of the Hungarian crown, and though they had a provincial pseudo-autonomous diet at Agram, the capital of Croatia, they sent deputies to the Hungarian parliament at Budapest. Thus what had in the Middle Ages been known as the triune kingdom of Croatia, Slavonia, and Dalmatia, with a total Serbo-Croat population of three millions, was divided between Austria and Hungary. Further, there were about 700,000 Serbs and Croats in the south of Hungary proper, cast and north of the Danube, known as the Banat and Ba[)c]ka, a district which during the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries was the hearth and home of Serb literature and education, but which later waned in importance in that respect as independent Serbia grew. These Serbs were directly dependent on Budapest, the only autonomy they possessed being ecclesiastical. Bosnia and Hercegovina, still nominally Turkish provinces, with a Slav population of nearly two million (850,000 Orthodox Serbs, 650,000 Mohammedan Serbs, and the rest Roman Catholics), were to all intents and purposes already imperial lands of Austria-Hungary, with a purely military and police administration; the shadow of Turkish sovereignty provided sufficient excuse to the _de facto_ owners of these provinces not to grant the inhabitants parliamentary government or even genuine provincial autonomy. The Serbs in Serbia numbered nearly three millions, those in Montenegro about a quarter of a million; while in Turkey, in what was known as Old Serbia (the _sandjak_ of Novi-Pasar between Serbia and Montenegro and the vilayet of Korovo), and in parts of northern and central Macedonia, there were scattered another half million. These last, of course, had no voice at all in the management of their own affairs. Those in Montenegro lived under the patriarchal autocracy of Prince Nicholas, who had succeeded his uncle, Prince Danilo, in 1860, at the age of nineteen. Though no other form of government could have turned the barren rocks of Montenegro into fertile pastures, many of the people grew restless with the restricted possibilities of a career which the mountain principality offered them, and in latter years migrated in large numbers to North and South America, whither emigration from Dalmatia and Croatia too had already readied serious proportions. The Serbs in Serbia were the only ones who could claim to be free, but even this was a freedom entirely dependent on the economic malevolence of Austria-Hungary and Turkey. Cut up in this way by the hand of fate into such a number of helpless fragments, it was inevitable that the Serb race, if it possessed any vitality, should attempt, at any cost, to piece some if not all of them together and form an ethnical whole which, economically and politically, should be master of its own destinies. It was equally inevitable that the policy of Austria-Hungary should be to anticipate or definitively render any such attempt impossible, because obviously the formation of a large south Slav state, by cutting off Austria from the Adriatic and eliminating from the dual monarchy all the valuable territory between the Dalmatian coast and the river Drave, would seriously jeopardize its position as a great power; it must be remembered, also, that Austria-Hungary, far from decomposing, as it was commonly assumed was happening, had been enormously increasing in vitality ever since 1878. The means adopted by the governments of Vienna and Budapest to nullify the plans of Serbian expansion were generally to maintain the political _émiettement_ of the Serb race, the isolation of one group from another, the virtually enforced emigration of Slavs on a large scale and their substitution by German colonists, and the encouragement of rivalry and discord between Roman Catholic Croat and Orthodox Serb. No railways were allowed to be built in Dalmatia, communication between Agram and any other parts of the monarchy except Fiume or Budapest was rendered almost impossible; Bosnia and Hercegovina were shut off into a watertight compartment and endowed with a national flag composed of the inspiring colours of brown and buff; it was made impossible for Serbs to visit Montenegro or for Montenegrins to visit Serbia except via Fiume, entailing the bestowal of several pounds on the Hungarian state steamers and railways. As for the _sandjak_ of Novi-Pazar, it was turned into a veritable Tibet, and a legend was spread abroad that if any foreigner ventured there he would be surely murdered by Turkish brigands; meanwhile it was full of Viennese ladies giving picnics and dances and tennis parties to the wasp-waisted officers of the Austrian garrison. Bosnia and Hercegovina, on the other hand, became the model touring provinces of Austria-Hungary, and no one can deny that their great natural beauties were made more enjoyable by the construction of railways, roads, and hotels. At the same time this was not a work of pure philanthropy, and the emigration statistics are a good indication of the joy with which the Bosnian peasants paid for an annual influx of admiring tourists. In spite of all these disadvantages, however, the Serbo-Croat provinces of Austria-Hungary could not be deprived of all the benefits of living within a large and prosperous customs union, while being made to pay for all the expenses of the elaborate imperial administration and services; and the spread of education, even under the Hapsburg régime, began to tell in time. Simultaneously with the agitation which emanated from Serbia and was directed towards the advancement, by means of schools and religious and literary propaganda, of Serbian influence in Bosnia and Hercegovina, a movement started in Dalmatia and Croatia for the closer union of those two provinces. About 1906 the two movements found expression in the formation of the Serbo-Croat or Croato-Serb coalition party, composed of those elements in Dalmatia, Croatia, and Slavonia which favoured closer union between the various groups of the Serb race scattered throughout those provinces, as well as in Serbia, Montenegro, Bosnia, Hercegovina, and Turkey. Owing to the circumstances already described, it was impossible for the representatives of the Serb race to voice their aspirations unanimously in any one parliament, and the work of the coalition, except in the provincial diet at Agram, consisted mostly of conducting press campaigns and spreading propaganda throughout those provinces. The most important thing about the coalition was that it buried religious antagonism and put unity of race above difference of belief. In this way it came into conflict with the ultramontane Croat party at Agram, which wished to incorporate Bosnia, Hercegovina, and Dalmatia with Croatia and create a third purely Roman Catholic Slav state in the empire, on a level with Austria and Hungary; also to a lesser extent with the intransigent Serbs of Belgrade, who affected to ignore Croatia and Roman Catholicism, and only dreamed of bringing Bosnia, Hercegovina, and as much of Dalmatia as they could under their own rule; and finally it had to overcome the hostility of the Mohammedan Serbs of Bosnia, who disliked all Christians equally, could only with the greatest difficulty be persuaded that they were really Serbs and not Turks, and honestly cared for nothing but Islam and Turkish coffee, thus considerably facilitating the germanization of the two provinces. The coalition was wisely inclined to postpone the programme of final political settlement, and aimed immediately at the removal of the material and moral barriers placed between the Serbs of the various provinces of Austria-Hungary, including Bosnia and Hercegovina. If they had been sure of adequate guarantees they would probably have agreed to the inclusion of _all_ Serbs and Croats within the monarchy, because the constitution of all Serbs and Croats in an independent state (not necessarily a kingdom) without it implied the then problematic contingencies of a European war and the disruption of Austria-Hungary. Considering the manifold handicaps under which Serbia and its cause suffered, the considerable success which its propaganda met with in Bosnia and Hercegovina and other parts of Austria-Hungary, from 1903 till 1908, is a proof, not only of the energy and earnestness of its promoters and of the vitality of the Serbian people, but also, if any were needed, of the extreme unpopularity of the Hapsburg régime in the southern Slav provinces of the dual monarchy. Serbia had no help from outside. Russia was entangled in the Far East and then in the revolution, and though the new dynasty was approved in St. Petersburg Russian sympathy with Serbia was at that time only lukewarm. Relations with Austria-Hungary were of course always strained; only one single line of railway connected the two countries, and as Austria-Hungary was the only profitable market, for geographical reasons, for Serbian products, Serbia could be brought to its knees at any moment by the commercial closing of the frontier. It was a symbol of the economic vassalage of Serbia and Montenegro that the postage between both of these countries and any part of Austria-Hungary was ten centimes, that for letters between Serbia and Montenegro, which had to make the long détour through Austrian territory, was twenty-five. But though this opened the Serbian markets to Austria, it also incidentally opened Bosnia, when the censor could be circumvented to propaganda by pamphlet and correspondence. Intercourse with western Europe was restricted by distance, and, owing to dynastic reasons, diplomatic relations were altogether suspended for several years between this country and Serbia. The Balkan States Exhibition held in London during the summer of 1907, to encourage trade between Great Britain and the Balkans, was hardly a success. Italy and Serbia had nothing in common. With Montenegro even, despite the fact that King Peter was Prince Nicholas's son-in-law, relations were bad. It was felt in Serbia that Prince Nicholas's autocratic rule acted as a brake on the legitimate development of the national consciousness, and Montenegrin students who visited Belgrade returned to their homes full of wild and unsuitable ideas. However, the revolutionary tendencies, which some of them undoubtedly developed, had no fatal results to the reigning dynasty, which continued as before to enjoy the special favour as well as the financial support of the Russian court, and which, looked on throughout Europe as a picturesque and harmless institution, it would have been dangerous, as it was quite unnecessary, to touch. Serbia was thus left entirely to its own resources in the great propagandist activity which filled the years 1903 to 1908. The financial means at its disposal were exiguous in the extreme, especially when compared with the enormous sums lavished annually by the Austrian and German governments on their secret political services, so that the efforts of its agents cannot be ascribed to cupidity. Also it must be admitted that the kingdom of Serbia, with its capital Belgrade, thanks to the internal chaos and dynastic scandals of the previous forty years, resulting in superficial dilapidation, intellectual stagnation, and general poverty, lacked the material as well as the moral glamour which a successful Piedmont should possess. Nobody could deny, for instance, that, with all its natural advantages, Belgrade was at first sight not nearly such an attractive centre as Agram or Sarajevo, or that the qualities which the Serbs of Serbia had displayed since their emancipation were hardly such as to command the unstinted confidence and admiration of their as yet unredeemed compatriots. Nevertheless the Serbian propaganda in favour of what was really a Pan-Serb movement met with great success, especially in Bosnia, Hercegovina, and Old Serbia (northern Macedonia). Simultaneously the work of the Serbo-Croat coalition in Dalmatia, Croatia, and Slavonia made considerable progress in spite of clerical opposition and desperate conflicts with the government at Budapest. Both the one movement and the other naturally evoked great alarm and emotion in the Austrian and Hungarian capitals, as they were seen to be genuinely popular and also potentially, if not actually, separatist in character. In October 1906 Baron Achrenthal succeeded Count Goluchowski as Minister for Foreign Affairs at Vienna, and very soon initiated a more vigorous and incidentally anti-Slav foreign policy than his predecessor. What was now looked on as the Serbian danger had in the eyes of Vienna assumed such proportions that the time for decisive action was considered to have arrived. In January 1908 Baron Achrenthal announced his scheme for a continuation of the Bosnian railway system through the _sandjak_ of Novi-Pazar to link up with the Turkish railways in Macedonia. This plan was particularly foolish in conception, because, the Bosnian railways being narrow and the Turkish normal gauge, the line would have been useless for international commerce, while the engineering difficulties were such that the cost of construction would have been prohibitive. But the possibilities which this move indicated, the palpable evidence it contained of the notorious _Drang nach Osten_ of the Germanic powers towards Salonika and Constantinople, were quite sufficient to fill the ministries of Europe, and especially those of Russia, with extreme uneasiness. The immediate result of this was that concerted action between Russia and Austria-Hungary in the Balkans was thenceforward impossible, and the Mürzsteg programme, after a short and precarious existence, came to an untimely end (cf. chap. 12). Serbia and Montenegro, face to face with this new danger which threatened permanently to separate their territories, were beside themselves, and immediately parried with the project, hardly more practicable in view of their international credit, of a Danube-Adriatic railway. In July 1908 the nerves of Europe were still further tried by the Young Turk revolution in Constantinople. The imminence of this movement was known to Austro-German diplomacy, and doubtless this knowledge, as well as the fear of the Pan-Serb movement, prompted the Austrian foreign minister to take steps towards the definitive regularization of his country's position in Bosnia and Hercegovina--provinces whose suzerain was still the Sultan of Turkey. The effect of the Young Turk coup in the Balkan States was as any one who visited them at that time can testify, both pathetic and intensely humorous. The permanent chaos of the Turkish empire, and the process of watching for years its gradual but inevitable decomposition, had created amongst the neighbouring states an atmosphere of excited anticipation, which was really the breath of their nostrils; it had stimulated them during the endless Macedonian insurrections to commit the most awful outrages against each other's nationals and then lay the blame at the door of the unfortunate Turk; and if the Turk should really regenerate himself, not only would their occupation be gone, but the heavily-discounted legacies would assuredly elude their grasp. At the same time, since the whole policy of exhibiting and exploiting the horrors of Macedonia, and of organizing guerilla bands and provoking intervention, was based on the refusal of the Turks to grant reforms, as soon as the ultra-liberal constitution of Midhat Pasha, which, had been withdrawn after a brief and unsuccessful run in 1876, was restored by the Young Turks, there was nothing left for the Balkan States to do but to applaud with as much enthusiasm as they could simulate. The emotions experienced by the Balkan peoples during that summer, beneath the smiles which they had to assume, were exhausting even for southern temperaments. Bulgaria, with its characteristic matter-of-factness, was the first to adjust itself to the new and trying situation in which the only certainty was that something decisive had got to be done with all possible celerity. On October 5, 1908, Prince Ferdinand sprang on an astonished continent the news that he renounced the Turkish suzerainty (ever since 1878 the Bulgarian principality had been a tributary and vassal state of the Ottoman Empire, and therefore, with all its astonishingly rapid progress and material prosperity, a subject for commiseration in the kingdoms of Serbia and Greece) and proclaimed the independence of Bulgaria, with himself, as Tsar of the Bulgars, at its head. Europe had not recovered from this shock, still less Belgrade and Athens, when, two days later. Baron Aehrenthal announced the formal annexation of Bosnia and Hercegovina by the Emperor Francis Joseph. Whereas most people had virtually forgotten the Treaty of Berlin and had come to look on Austria as just as permanently settled in these two provinces as was Great Britain in Egypt and Cyprus, yet the formal breach of the stipulations of that treaty on Austria's part, by annexing the provinces without notice to or consultation with the other parties concerned, gave the excuse for a somewhat ridiculous hue and cry on the part of the other powers, and especially on that of Russia. The effect of these blows from right and left on Serbia was literally paralysing. When Belgrade recovered the use of its organs, it started to scream for war and revenue, and initiated an international crisis from which Europe did not recover till the following year. Meanwhile, almost unobserved by the peoples of Serbia and Montenegro, Austria had, in order to reconcile the Turks with the loss of their provinces, good-naturedly, but from the Austrian point of view short-sightedly, withdrawn its garrisons from the _sandjak_ of Novi-Pazar, thus evacuating the long-coveted corridor which was the one thing above all else necessary to Serbia and Montenegro for the realization of their plans. 20 _Serbia and Montenegro, and the two Balkan Wars,_ 1908-13 (cf. Chap, 13) The winter of 1908-9 marked the lowest ebb of Serbia's fortunes. The successive _coups_ and _faits accomplis_ carried out by Austria, Turkey, and Bulgaria during 1908 seemed destined to destroy for good the Serbian plans for expansion in any direction whatever, and if these could not be realized then Serbia must die of suffocation. It was also well understood that for all the martial ardour displayed in Belgrade the army was in no condition to take the field any more than was the treasury to bear the cost of a campaign; Russia had not yet recovered from the Japanese War followed by the revolution, and indeed everything pointed to the certainty that if Serbia indulged in hostilities against Austria-Hungary it would perish ignominiously and alone. The worst of it was that neither Serbia nor Montenegro had any legal claim to Bosnia and Hercegovina: they had been deluding themselves with the hope that their ethnical identity with the people of these provinces, supported by the effects of their propaganda, would induce a compassionate and generous Europe at least to insist on their being given a part of the coveted territory, and thus give Serbia access to the coast, when the ambiguous position of these two valuable provinces, still nominally Turkish but already virtually Austrian, came to be finally regularized. As a matter of fact, ever since Bismarck, Gorchakóv, and Beaconsfield had put Austria-Hungary in their possession in 1878, no one had seriously thought that the Dual Monarchy would ever voluntarily retire from one inch of the territory which had been conquered and occupied at such cost, and those who noticed it were astonished at the evacuation by it of the _sandjak_ of Novi-Pazar. At the same time Baron Achrenthal little foresaw what a hornet's nest he would bring about his ears by the tactless method in which the annexation was carried out. The first effect was to provoke a complete boycott of Austro-Hungarian goods and trading vessels throughout the Ottoman Empire, which was so harmful to the Austrian export trade that in January 1909 Count Achrenthal had to indemnify Turkey with the sum of £2,500,000 for his technically stolen property. Further, the attitude of Russia and Serbia throughout the whole winter remained so provocative and threatening that, although war was generally considered improbable, the Austrian army had to be kept on a war footing, which involved great expense and much popular discontent. The grave external crisis was only solved at the end of March 1909; Germany had had to deliver a veiled ultimatum at St. Petersburg, the result of which was the rescue of Austria-Hungary from an awkward situation by the much-advertised appearance of its faithful ally in shining armour. Simultaneously Serbia had to eat humble pie and declare, with complete absence of truth, that the annexation of Bosnia and Hercegovina had not affected its interests. Meanwhile the internal complications in the southern Slav provinces of Austria-Hungary were growing formidable. Ever since the summer of 1908 arrests had been going on among the members of the Croato-Serb coalition, who were accused of favouring the subversive Pan-Serb movement. The press of Austria-Hungary magnified the importance of this agitation in order to justify abroad the pressing need for the formal annexation of Bosnia and Hercegovina. The fact was that, though immediate danger to the monarchy as a result of the Pan-Serb agitation was known not to exist, yet in the interests of Austrian foreign policy, the Serbs had to be compromised in the eyes of Europe, the Croato-Serb coalition within the Dual Monarchy had to be destroyed to gratify Budapest in particular, and the religious and political discord between Croat and Serb, on which the foundation of the power of Austria-Hungary, and especially that of Hungary, in the south rested, and which was in a fair way of being eliminated through the efforts of the coalition, had to be revived by some means or other. It is not possible here to go into the details of the notorious Agram high treason trial, which was the outcome of all this. It suffices to say that it was a monstrous travesty of justice which lasted from March till October 1909, and though it resulted in the ostensible destruction of the coalition and the imprisonment of many of its members, it defeated its own ends, as it merely fanned the flame of nationalistic feeling against Vienna and Budapest, and Croatia has ever since had to be governed virtually by martial law. This was followed in December 1909 by the even more famous Friedjung trial. In March 1909 Count Achrenthal had begun in Vienna a violent press campaign against Serbia, accusing the Serbian Government and dynasty of complicity in the concoction of nefarious designs and conspiracies against the integrity of Austria-Hungary. This campaign was thought to be the means of foreshadowing and justifying the immediate military occupation of Serbia. Unfortunately its instigator had not been sufficiently particular as to the choice of his tools and his methods of using them. Among the contributors of the highly tendencious articles was the well-known historian Dr. Friedjung, who made extensive use of documents supplied him by the Vienna Foreign Office. His accusations immediately provoked an action for libel on the part of three leaders of the Croato-Serb coalition who were implicated, in December 1909. The trial, which was highly sensational, resulted in the complete vindication and rehabilitation both of those three Austrian subjects in the eyes of the whole of Austria-Hungary and of the Belgrade Foreign Office in those of Europe; the documents on which the charges were based were proven to be partly forgeries, partly falsified, and partly stolen by various disreputable secret political agents of the Austrian Foreign Office, and one of the principal Serbian 'conspirators', a professor of Belgrade University, proved that he was in Berlin at the time when he had been accused of presiding over a revolutionary meeting at Belgrade. But it also resulted in the latter discrediting of Count Achrenthal as a diplomat and of the methods by which he conducted the business of the Austrian Foreign Office, and involved his country in the expenditure of countless millions which it could ill afford. There never was any doubt that a subversive agitation had been going on, and that it emanated in part from Serbia, but the Serbian Foreign Office, under the able management of Dr. Milovanovi['c] and Dr. Spalajkovi['c] (one of the principal witnesses at the Friedjung trial), was far too clever to allow any of its members, or indeed any responsible person in Serbia, to be concerned in it, and the brilliant way in which the clumsy and foolish charges were refuted redounded greatly to the credit of the Serbian Government. Count Achrenthal had overreached himself, and moreover the wind had already been taken out of his sails by the public recantation on Serbia's part of its pretensions to Bosnia, which, as already mentioned, took place at the end of March 1909, and by the simultaneous termination of the international crisis marked by Russia's acquiescence in the _fait accompli_ of the annexation. At the same time the Serbian Crown Prince George, King Peter's elder son, who had been the leader of the chauvinist war-party in Serbia, and was somewhat theatrical in demeanour and irresponsible in character, renounced his rights of succession in favour of his younger brother Prince Alexander, a much steadier and more talented young man. It is certain that when he realized how things were going to develop Count Achrenthal tried to hush up the whole incident, but it was too late, and Dr. Friedjung insisted on doing what he could to save his reputation as a historian. In the end he was made the principal scapegoat, though the press of Vienna voiced its opinion of the Austrian Foreign Office in no measured tones, saying, amongst other things, that if the conductors of its diplomacy must use forgeries, they might at any rate secure good ones. Eventually a compromise was arranged, after the defendant had clearly lost his case, owing to pressure being brought to bear from outside, and the Serbian Government refrained from carrying out its threat of having the whole question threshed out before the Hague Tribunal. The cumulative effect of all these exciting and trying experiences was the growth of a distinctly more sympathetic feeling towards Serbia in Europe at large, and especially a rallying of all the elements throughout the Serb and Croat provinces of Austria-Hungary, except the extreme clericals of Agram, to the Serbian cause; briefly, the effect was the exact opposite of that desired by Vienna and Budapest. Meanwhile events had been happening elsewhere which revived the drooping interest and flagging hopes of Serbia in the development of foreign affairs. The attainment of power by the Young Turks and the introduction of parliamentary government had brought no improvement to the internal condition of the Ottoman Empire, and the Balkan peoples made no effort to conceal their satisfaction at the failure of the revolution to bring about reform by magic. The counter-revolution of April 1909 and the accession of the Sultan Mohammed V made things no better. In Macedonia, and especially in Albania, they had been going from bad to worse. The introduction of universal military service and obligatory payment of taxes caused a revolution in Albania, where such innovations were not at all appreciated. From 1909 till 1911 there was a state of perpetual warfare in Albania, with which the Young Turks, in spite of cruel reprisals, were unable to cope, until, in the summer of that year, Austria threatened to intervene unless order were restored; some sort of settlement was patched up, and an amnesty was granted to the rebels by the new Sultan. This unfortunate man, after being rendered almost half-witted by having been for the greater part of his life kept a prisoner by his brother the tyrant Abdul Hamid, was now the captive of the Young Turks, and had been compelled by them to make as triumphal a progress as fears for his personal safety would allow through the provinces of European Turkey. But it was obvious to Balkan statesmen that Turkey was only changed in name, and that, if its threatened regeneration had slightly postponed their plans for its partition amongst themselves, the ultimate consummation of these plans must be pursued with, if possible, even greater energy and expedition than before. It was also seen by the more perspicacious of them that the methods hitherto adopted must in future be radically altered. A rejuvenated though unreformed Turkey, bent on self-preservation, could not be despised, and it was understood that if the revolutionary bands of the three Christian nations (Greece, Serbia, and Bulgaria) were to continue indefinitely to cut each others' throats in Macedonia the tables might conceivably be turned on them. From 1909 onwards a series of phenomena occurred in the Balkans which ought to have given warning to the Turks, whose survival in Europe had been due solely to the fact that the Balkan States had never been able to unite. In the autumn of 1909 King Ferdinand of Bulgaria met Crown Prince Alexander of Serbia and made an expedition in his company to Mount Kopaonik in Serbia, renowned for the beauty of its flora. This must have struck those who remembered the bitter feelings which had existed between the two countries for years and had been intensified by the events of 1908. Bulgaria had looked on Serbia's failures with persistent contempt, while Serbia had watched Bulgaria's successful progress with speechless jealousy, and the memory of Slivnitsa was not yet obliterated. In the summer of 1910 Prince Nicholas of Montenegro celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of his reign and his golden wedding. The festivities were attended by King Ferdinand of Bulgaria and the Crown Prince Boris, by the Crown Prince Alexander of Serbia and his sister, grandchildren of Prince Nicholas, by his two daughters the Queen of Italy and the Grand Duchess Anastasia of Russia, and by their husbands, King Victor Emmanuel and the Grand Duke Nicholas. The happiness of the venerable ruler, who was as respected throughout Europe as he was feared throughout his principality, was at the same time completed by his recognition as king by all the governments and sovereigns of the continent. The hopes that he would simultaneously introduce a more liberal form of government amongst his own people were unfortunately disappointed. The year 1911, it need scarcely be recalled, was extremely fateful for the whole of Europe. The growing restlessness and irritability manifested by the German Empire began to make all the other governments feel exceedingly uneasy. The French expedition to Fez in April was followed by the Anglo-Franco-German crisis of July; war was avoided, and France was recognized as virtually master of Morocco, but the soreness of the diplomatic defeat rendered Germany a still more trying neighbour than it had been before. The first repercussion was the war which broke out in September 1911 between Italy and Turkey for the possession of Tripoli and Cyrenaica, which Italy, with its usual insight, saw was vital to its position as a Mediterranean power and therefore determined to acquire before any other power had time or courage to do so. In the Balkans this was a year of observation and preparation. Serbia, taught by the bitter lesson of 1908 not to be caught again unprepared, had spent much money and care on its army during the last few years and had brought it to a much higher state of efficiency. In Austria-Hungary careful observers wore aware that something was afoot and that the gaze of Serbia, which from 1903 till 1908 had been directed westwards to Bosnia and the Adriatic, had since 1908 been fixed on Macedonia and the Aegean. The actual formation of the Balkan League by King Ferdinand and M. Venezelos may not have been known, but it was realized that action of some sort on the part of the Balkan States was imminent, and that something must be done to forestall it. In February 1912 Count Aehrenthal died, and was succeeded by Count Berchtold as Austro-Hungarian Minister for Foreign Affairs. In August of the same year this minister unexpectedly announced his new and startling proposals for the introduction of reforms in Macedonia, which nobody in the Balkans who had any material interest in the fate of that province genuinely desired at that moment; the motto of the new scheme was 'progressive decentralization', blessed words which soothed the great powers as much as they alarmed the Balkan Governments. But already in May 1912 agreements between Bulgaria and Greece and between Bulgaria and Serbia had been concluded, limiting their respective zones of influence in the territory which they hoped to conquer. It was, to any one who has any knowledge of Balkan history, incredible that the various Governments had been able to come to any agreement at all. That arrived at by Bulgaria and Serbia divided Macedonia between them in such a way that Bulgaria should obtain central Macedonia with Monastir and Okhrida, and Serbia northern Macedonia or Old Serbia; there was an indeterminate zone between the two spheres, including Skoplje (�sküb, in Turkish), the exact division of which it was agreed to leave to arbitration at a subsequent date. The Macedonian theatre of war was by common consent regarded as the most important, and Bulgaria here promised Serbia the assistance of 100,000 men. The Turks meanwhile were aware that all was not what it seemed beyond the frontiers, and in August 1912 began collecting troops in Thrace, ostensibly for manoeuvres. During the month of September the patience of the four Governments of Greece, Bulgaria, Serbia, and Montenegro, which had for years with the utmost self-control been passively watching the awful sufferings of their compatriots under Turkish misrule, gradually became exhausted. On September 28 the four Balkan Governments informed Russia that the Balkan League was an accomplished fact, and on the 30th the representatives of all four signed the alliance, and mobilization was ordered in Greece, Bulgaria, and Serbia. The population of Montenegro was habitually on a war footing, and it was left to the mountain kingdom from its geographically favourable position to open hostilities. On October 8 Montenegro declared war on Turkey, and after a series of brilliant successes along the frontier its forces settled down to the wearisome and arduous siege of Scutari with its impregnable sentinel, Mount Tarabo[)s], converted into a modern fortress; the unaccustomed nature of these tasks, to which the Montenegrin troops, used to the adventures of irregular warfare, were little suited, tried the valour and patience of the intrepid mountaineers to the utmost. By that time Europe was in a ferment, and both Russia and Austria, amazed at having the initiative in the regulation of Balkan affairs wrested from them, showered on the Balkan capitals threats and protests, which for once in a way were neglected. On October 13 Greece, Bulgaria, and Serbia replied that the offer of outside assistance and advice had come too late, and that they had decided themselves to redress the intolerable and secular wrongs of their long-suffering compatriots in Macedonia by force of arms. To their dismay a treaty of peace was signed at Lausanne about the same time between Turkey and Italy, which power, it had been hoped, would have distracted Turkey's attention by a continuance of hostilities in northern Africa, and at any rate immobilized the Turkish fleet. Encouraged by this success Turkey boldly declared war on Bulgaria and Serbia on October 17, hoping to frighten Greece and detach it from the league; but on the 18th the Greek Government replied by declaring war on Turkey, thus completing the necessary formalities. The Turks were confident of an early and easy victory, and hoped to reach Sofia, not from Constantinople and Thrace, but pushing up north-eastwards from Macedonia. The rapid offensive of the Serbian army, however, took them by surprise, and they were completely overwhelmed at the battle of Kumanovo in northern Macedonia on October 23-4, 1912. On the 31st King Peter made his triumphal entry into Skoplje (ex-�sküb), the ancient capital of Serbia under Tsar Stephen Du[)s]an in the fourteenth century. From there the Serbian army pursued the Turks southward, and at the battles of Prilep (November 5) and Monastir (November 19), after encountering the most stubborn opposition, finally put an end to their resistance in this part of the theatre of war. On November 9 the Greeks entered Salonika. Meanwhile other divisions of the Serbian army had joined hands with the Montenegrins, and occupied almost without opposition the long-coveted _sandjak_ of Novi-Pazar (the ancient Serb Ra[)s]ka), to the inexpressible rage of Austria-Hungary, which had evacuated it in 1908 in favour of its rightful owner, Turkey. At the same time a Serbian expeditionary corps marched right through Albania, braving great hardships on the way, and on November 30 occupied Durazzo, thus securing at last a foothold on the Adriatic. Besides all this, Serbia, in fulfilment of its treaty obligations, dispatched 50,000 splendidly equipped men, together with a quantity of heavy siege artillery, to help the Bulgarians at the siege of Adrianople. On December 3 an armistice was signed between the belligerents, with the condition that the three besieged Turkish fortresses of Adrianople, Scutari, and Yanina must not be re-victualled, and on December 16, 1912, peace negotiations were opened between representatives of the belligerent countries in London. Meanwhile the Germanic powers, dismayed by the unexpected victories of the Balkan armies and humiliated by the crushing defeats in the field of the German-trained Turkish army, had since the beginning of November been doing everything in their power to support their client Turkey and prevent its final extinction and at the same time the blighting of their ambitions eventually to acquire the Empire of the Near East. During the conference in London between the plenipotentiaries of the belligerents, parallel meetings took place between the representatives of the great powers, whose relations with each other were strained and difficult in the extreme. The Turkish envoys prolonged the negotiations, as was their custom; they naturally were unwilling to concede their European provinces to the despised and hated Greek and Slavonic conquerors, but the delays implied growing hardships for their besieged and starving garrisons in Thrace, Epirus, and Albania. On January 23, 1913, a quasi-revolution occurred in the Turkish army, headed by Enver Bey and other Young Turk partisans, and approved by the Austrian and German embassies, with the object of interrupting the negotiations and staking all on the result of a final battle. As a result of these events, and of the palpable disingenuousness of the Turks in continuing the negotiations in London, the Balkan delegates on January 29 broke them off, and on February 3, 1913, hostilities were resumed. At length, after a siege of nearly five months, Adrianople, supplied with infinitely better artillery than the allies possessed, was taken by the combined Serbian and Bulgarian forces on March 26, 1913. The Serbian troops at Adrianople captured 17,010 Turkish prisoners, 190 guns, and the Turkish commander himself, Shukri Pasha. At the outbreak of the war in the autumn of 1912 the Balkan States had observed all the conventions, disavowing designs of territorial aggrandizement and proclaiming their resolve merely to obtain guarantees for the better treatment of the Christian inhabitants of Macedonia; the powers, for their part, duly admonished the naughty children of south-eastern Europe to the effect that no alteration of the territorial _status quo ante_ would under any circumstances be tolerated. During the negotiations in London, interrupted in January, and resumed in the spring of 1913 after the fall of Adrianople, it was soon made clear that in spite of all these magniloquent declarations nothing would be as it had been before. Throughout the winter Austria-Hungary had been mobilizing troops and massing them along the frontiers of Serbia and Montenegro, any increase in the size of which countries meant a crushing blow to the designs of the Germanic powers and the end to all the dreams embodied in the phrase 'Drang nach Osten' ('pushing eastwards'). In the spring of 1913 Serbia and Montenegro, instead of being defeated by the brave Turks, as had been confidently predicted in Vienna and Berlin would be the case, found themselves in possession of the _sandjak_ of Novi-Pazar, of northern and central Macedonia (including Old Serbia), and of the northern half of Albania. The presence of Serbian troops on the shore of the Adriatic was more than Austria could stand, and at the renewed conference of London it was decided that they must retire. In the interests of nationality, in which the Balkan States themselves undertook the war, it was desirable that at any rate an attempt should be made to create an independent state of Albania, though no one who knew the local conditions felt confident as to its ultimate career. Its creation assuaged the consciences of the Liberal Government in Great Britain and at the same time admirably suited the strategic plans of Austria-Hungary. It left that country a loophole for future diplomatic efforts to disturb the peace of south-eastern Europe, and, with its own army in Bosnia and its political agents and irregular troops in Albania, Serbia and Montenegro, even though enlarged as it was generally recognized they must be, would be held in a vice and could be threatened and bullied from the south now as well as from the north whenever it was in the interests of Vienna and Budapest to apply the screw. The independence of Albania was declared at the conference of London on May 30, 1913. Scutari was included in it as being a purely Albanian town, and King Nicholas and his army, after enjoying its coveted flesh-pots for a few halcyon weeks, had, to their mortification, to retire to the barren fastnesses of the Black Mountain. Serbia, frustrated by Austria in its attempts, generally recognized as legitimate, to obtain even a commercial outlet on the Adriatic, naturally again diverted its aims southwards to Salonika. The Greeks were already in possession of this important city and seaport, as well as of the whole of southern Macedonia. The Serbs were in possession of central and northern Macedonia, including Monastir and Okhrida, which they had at great sacrifices conquered from the Turks. It had been agreed that Bulgaria, as its share of the spoils, should have all central Macedonia, with Monastir and Okhrida, although on ethnical grounds the Bulgarians have only very slightly better claim to the country and towns west of the Vardar than any of the other Balkan nationalities. But at the time that the agreement had been concluded it had been calculated in Greece and Serbia that Albania, far from being made independent, would be divided between them, and that Serbia, assured of a strip of coast on the Adriatic, would have no interest in the control of the river Vardar and of the railway which follows its course connecting the interior of Serbia with the port of Salonika. Greece and Serbia had no ground whatever for quarrel and no cause for mutual distrust, and they were determined, for political and commercial reasons, to have a considerable extent of frontier from west to east in common. The creation of an independent Albania completely altered the situation. If Bulgaria should obtain central Macedonia and thus secure a frontier from north to south in common with the newly-formed state of Albania, then Greece would be at the mercy of its hereditary enemies the Bulgars and Arnauts (Albanians) as it had previously been at the mercy of the Turks, while Serbia would have two frontiers between itself and the sea instead of one, as before, and its complete economic strangulation would be rendered inevitable and rapid. Bulgaria for its own part naturally refused to waive its claim to central Macedonia, well knowing that the master of the Vardar valley is master of the Balkan peninsula. The first repercussion of the ephemeral treaty of London of May 30, 1913, which created Albania and shut out Serbia from the Adriatic, was, therefore, as the diplomacy of the Germanic powers had all along intended it should be, the beginning of a feud between Greece and Serbia on the one hand, and Bulgaria on the other, the disruption of the Balkan League and the salvation, for the ultimate benefit of Germany, of what was left of Turkey in Europe. The dispute as to the exact division of the conquered territory in Macedonia between Serbia and Bulgaria had, as arranged, been referred to arbitration, and, the Tsar of Russia having been chosen as judge, the matter was being threshed out in St. Petersburg during June 1913. Meanwhile Bulgaria, determined to make good its claim to the chestnuts which Greece and Serbia had pulled out of the Turkish fire, was secretly collecting troops along its temporary south-western frontier[1] with the object, in approved Germanic fashion, of suddenly invading and occupying all Macedonia, and, by the presentation of an irrevocable _fait accompli_, of relieving the arbitrator of his invidious duties or at any rate assisting him in the task. [Footnote 1: This was formed by the stream Zletovska, a tributary of the river Bregalnica, which in its turn falls into the Vardar on its left or eastern bank about 40 miles south of Skoplje (�sküb).] On the other hand, the relations between Bulgaria and its two allies had been noticeably growing worse ever since January 1913; Bulgaria felt aggrieved that, in spite of its great sacrifices, it had not been able to occupy so much territory as Greece and Serbia, and the fact that Adrianople was taken with Serbian help did not improve the feeling between the two Slav nations. The growth of Bulgarian animosity put Greece and Serbia on their guard, and, well knowing the direction which an eventual attack would take, these two countries on June 2, 1913, signed a military convention and made all the necessary dispositions for resisting any aggression on Bulgaria's part. At one o'clock in the morning of June 30 the Bulgarians, without provocation, without declaration of war, and without warning, crossed the Bregalnica (a tributary of the Vardar) and attacked the Serbs. A most violent battle ensued which lasted for several days; at some points the Bulgarians, thanks to the suddenness of their offensive, were temporarily successful, but gradually the Serbs regained the upper hand and by July 1 the Bulgarians were beaten. The losses were very heavy on both sides, but the final issue was a complete triumph for the Serbian army. Slivnitsa was avenged by the battle of the Bregalnica, just as Kosovo was by that of Kumanovo. After a triumphant campaign of one month, in which the Serbs were joined by the Greeks, Bulgaria had to bow to the inevitable. The Rumanian army had invaded northern Bulgaria, bent on maintaining the Balkan equilibrium and on securing compensation for having observed neutrality during the war of 1912-13, and famine reigned at Sofia. A conference was arranged at Bucarest, and the treaty of that name was signed there on August 10, 1913. By the terms of this treaty Serbia retained the whole of northern and central Macedonia, including Monastir and Okhrida, and the famous _sandjak_ of Novi-Pazar was divided between Serbia and Montenegro. Some districts of east-central Macedonia, which were genuinely Bulgarian, were included in Serbian territory, as Serbia naturally did not wish, after the disquieting and costly experience of June and July 1913, to give the Bulgarians another chance of separating Greek from Serbian territory by a fresh surprise attack, and the further the Bulgarians could be kept from the Vardar river and railway the less likelihood there was of this. The state of feeling in the Germanic capitals and in Budapest after this ignominious defeat of their protégé Bulgaria and after this fresh triumph of the despised and hated Serbians can be imagined. Bitterly disappointed first at seeing the Turks vanquished by the Balkan League--their greatest admirers could not even claim that the Turks had had any 'moral' victories--their chagrin, when they saw the Bulgarians trounced by the Serbians, knew no bounds. That the secretly prepared attack on Serbia by Bulgaria was planned in Vienna and Budapest there is no doubt. That Bulgaria was justified in feeling disappointment and resentment at the result of the first Balkan War no one denies, but the method chosen to redress its wrongs could only have been suggested by the Germanic school of diplomacy. In Serbia and Montenegro the result of the two successive Balkan Wars, though these had exhausted the material resources of the two countries, was a justifiable return of national self-confidence and rejoicing such as the people, humiliated and impoverished as it had habitually been by its internal and external troubles, had not known for very many years. At last Serbia and Montenegro had joined hands. At last Old Serbia was restored to the free kingdom. At last Skoplje, the mediaeval capital of Tsar Stephen Du[)s]an, was again in Serbian territory. At last one of the most important portions of unredeemed Serbia had been reclaimed. Amongst the Serbs and Croats of Bosnia, Hercegovina, Dalmatia, Croatia, Slavonia, and southern Hungary the effect of the Serbian victories was electrifying. Military prowess had been the one quality with which they, and indeed everybody else, had refused to credit the Serbians of the kingdom, and the triumphs of the valiant Serbian peasant soldiers immediately imparted a heroic glow to the country whose very name, at any rate in central Europe, had become a byword, and a synonym for failure; Belgrade became the cynosure and the rallying-centre of the whole Serbo-Croatian race. But Vienna and Budapest could only lose courage and presence of mind for the moment, and the undeniable success of the Serbian arms merely sharpened their appetite for revenge. In August 1913 Austria-Hungary, as is now known, secretly prepared an aggression on Serbia, but was restrained, partly by the refusal of Italy to grant its approval of such action, partly because the preparations of Germany at that time were not complete. The fortunate Albanian question provided, for the time being, a more convenient rod with which to beat Serbia. Some Serbian troops had remained in possession of certain frontier towns and districts which were included in the territory of the infant state of Albania pending the final settlement of the frontiers by a commission. On October 18, 1913, Austria addressed an ultimatum to Serbia to evacuate these, as its continued occupation of them caused offence and disquiet to the Dual Monarchy. Serbia meekly obeyed. Thus passed away the last rumble of the storms which had filled the years 1912-13 in south-eastern Europe. The credulous believed that the Treaty of Bucarest had at last brought peace to that distracted part of the world. Those who knew their central Europe realized that Berlin had only forced Vienna to acquiesce in the Treaty of Bucarest because the time had not yet come. But come what might, Serbia and Montenegro, by having linked up their territory and by forming a mountain barrier from the Danube to the Adriatic, made it far more difficult for the invader to push his way through to the East than it would have been before the battles of Kumanovo and Bregalnica. GREECE 1 _From Ancient to Modern Greece_ The name of Greece has two entirely different associations in our minds. Sometimes it calls up a wonderful literature enshrined in a 'dead language', and exquisite works of a vanished art recovered by the spade; at other times it is connected with the currant-trade returns quoted on the financial page of our newspapers or with the 'Balance of Power' discussed in their leading articles. Ancient and Modern Greece both mean much to us, but usually we are content to accept them as independent phenomena, and we seldom pause to wonder whether there is any deeper connexion between them than their name. It is the purpose of these pages to ask and give some answer to this question. The thought that his own Greece might perish, to be succeeded by another Greece after the lapse of more than two thousand years, would have caused an Ancient Greek surprise. In the middle of the fifth century B.C., Ancient Greek civilization seemed triumphantly vigorous and secure. A generation before, it had flung back the onset of a political power which combined all the momentum of all the other contemporary civilizations in the world; and the victory had proved not merely the superiority of Greek arms--the Spartan spearman and the Athenian galley--but the superior vitality of Greek politics--the self-governing, self-sufficing city-state. In these cities a wonderful culture had burst into flower--an art expressing itself with equal mastery in architecture, sculpture, and drama, a science which ranged from the most practical medicine to the most abstract mathematics, and a philosophy which blended art, science, and religion into an ever-developing and ever more harmonious view of the universe. A civilization so brilliant and so versatile as this seemed to have an infinite future before it, yet even here death lurked in ambush. When the cities ranged themselves in rival camps, and squandered their strength on the struggle for predominance, the historian of the Peloponnesian war could already picture Athens and Sparta in ruins,[1] and the catastrophe began to warp the soul of Plato before he had carried Greek philosophy to its zenith. This internecine strife of free communities was checked within a century by the imposition of a single military autocracy over them all, and Alexander the Great crowned his father Philip's work by winning new worlds for Hellenism from the Danube to the Ganges and from the Oxus to the Nile. The city-state and its culture were to be propagated under his aegis, but this vision vanished with Alexander's death, and Macedonian militarism proved a disappointment. The feuds of these crowned condottieri harassed the cities more sorely than their own quarrels, and their arms could not even preserve the Hellenic heritage against external foes. The Oriental rallied and expelled Hellenism again from the Asiatic hinterland, while the new cloud of Rome was gathering in the west. In four generations[2] of the most devastating warfare the world had seen, Rome conquered all the coasts of the Mediterranean. Greek city and Greek dynast went down before her, and the political sceptre passed irrevocably from the Hellenic nation. [Footnote 1: Thucydides, Book I, chap. 10.] [Footnote 2: 264-146 B.C.] Yet this political abdication seemed to open for Hellenic culture a future more brilliant and assured than ever. Rome could organize as well as conquer. She accepted the city-state as the municipal unit of the Roman Empire, thrust back the Oriental behind the Euphrates, and promoted the Hellenization of all the lands between this river-frontier and the Balkans with much greater intensity than the Macedonian imperialists. Her political conquests were still further counterbalanced by her spiritual surrender, and Hellenism was the soul of the new Latin culture which Rome created, and which advanced with Roman government over the vast untutored provinces of the west and north, bringing them, too, within the orbit of Hellenic civilization. Under the shadow of the Roman Empire, Plutarch, the mirror of Hellenism, could dwell in peace in his little city-state of Chaeronea, and reflect in his writings all the achievements of the Hellenic spirit as an ensample to an apparently endless posterity. Yet the days of Hellenic culture were also numbered. Even Plutarch lived[1] to look down from the rocky citadel of Chaeronea upon Teutonic raiders wasting the Kephisos vale, and for more than three centuries successive hordes of Goths searched out and ravaged the furthest corners of European Greece. Then the current set westward to sweep away[2] the Roman administration in the Latin provinces, and Hellenism seemed to have been granted a reprieve. The Greek city-state of Byzantium on the Black Sea Straits had been transformed into the Roman administrative centre of Constantinople, and from this capital the Emperor Justinian in the sixth century A.D. still governed and defended the whole Greek-speaking world. But this political glamour only threw the symptoms of inward dissolution into sharper relief. Within the framework of the Empire the municipal liberty of the city-state had been stifled and extinguished by the waxing jungle of bureaucracy, and the spiritual culture which the city-state fostered, and which was more essential to Hellenism than any political institutions, had been part ejected, part exploited, and wholly compromised by a new gospel from the east. [Footnote 1: About A.D. 100] [Footnote 2: A.D. 404-476] While the Oriental had been compelled by Rome to draw his political frontier at the Euphrates, and had failed so far to cross the river-line, he had maintained his cultural independence within sight of the Mediterranean. In the hill country of Judah, overlooking the high road between Antioch and Alexandria, the two chief foci of Hellenism in the east which the Macedonians had founded, and which had grown to maturity under the aegis of Rome, there dwelt a little Semitic community which had defied all efforts of Greek or Roman to assimilate it, and had finally given birth to a world religion about the time that a Roman punitive expedition razed its holy city of Jerusalem to the ground.[1] Christianity was charged with an incalculable force, which shot like an electric current from one end of the Roman Empire to the other. The highly-organized society of its adherents measured its strength in several sharp conflicts with the Imperial administration, from which it emerged victorious, and it was proclaimed the official religious organization of the Empire by the very emperor that founded Constantinople.[2] [Footnote 1: A.D. 70.] [Footnote 2: Constantine the Great recognized Christianity in A.D. 313 and founded Constantinople in A.D. 328.] The established Christian Church took the best energies of Hellenism into its service. The Greek intellectuals ceased to become lecturers and professors, to find a more human and practical career in the bishop's office. The Nicene Creed, drafted by an 'oecumenical' conference of bishops under the auspices of Constantine himself,[1] was the last notable formulation of Ancient Greek philosophy. The cathedral of Aya Sophia, with which Justinian adorned Constantinople, was the last original creation of Ancient Greek art.[2] The same Justinian closed the University of Athens, which had educated the world for nine hundred years and more, since Plato founded his college in the Academy. Six recalcitrant professors went into exile for their spiritual freedom, but they found the devout Zoroastrianism of the Persian court as unsympathetic as the devout Christianity of the Roman. Their humiliating return and recantation broke the 'Golden Chain' of Hellenic thought for ever. Hellenism was thus expiring from its own inanition, when the inevitable avalanche overwhelmed it from without. In the seventh century A.D. there was another religious eruption in the Semitic world, this time in the heart of Arabia, where Hellenism had hardly penetrated, and under the impetus of Islam the Oriental burst his bounds again after a thousand years. Syria was reft away from the Empire, and Egypt, and North Africa as far as the Atlantic, and their political severance meant their cultural loss to Greek civilization. Between the Koran and Hellenism no fusion was possible. Christianity had taken Hellenism captive, but Islam gave it no quarter, and the priceless library of Alexandria is said to have been condemned by the caliph's order to feed the furnaces of the public baths. [Footnote 1: A.D. 325.] [Footnote 2: Completed A.D. 538.] While Hellenism was thus cut short in the east, a mortal blow was struck at its heart from the north. The Teuton had raided and passed on, but the lands he had depopulated were now invaded by immigrants who had come to stay. As soon as the last Goth and Lombard had gone west of the Isonzo, the Slavs poured in from the north-eastern plains of Europe through the Moravian gap, crossed the Danube somewhere near the site of Vienna, and drifted down along the eastern face of the Alps upon the Adriatic littoral. Rebuffed by the sea-board, the Slavonic migration was next deflected east, and filtered through the Bosnian mountains, scattering the Latin-speaking provincials before it to left and right, until it debouched upon the broad basin of the river Morava. In this concentration-area it gathered momentum during the earlier part of the seventh century A.D., and then burst out with irresistible force in all directions, eastward across the Maritsa basin till it reached the Black Sea, and southward down the Vardar to the shores of the Aegean. Beneath this Slavonic flood the Greek race in Europe was engulfed. A few fortified cities held out, Adrianople on the Maritsa continued to cover Constantinople; Salonika at the mouth of the Vardar survived a two hundred years siege; while further south Athens, Korinth, and Patras escaped extinction. But the tide of invasion surged around their walls. The Slavs mastered all the open country, and, pressing across the Korinthian Gulf, established themselves in special force throughout the Peloponnesos. The thoroughness of their penetration is witnessed to this day by the Slavonic names which still cling to at least a third of the villages, rivers, and mountains in European Greece, and are found in the most remote as well as in the most accessible quarters of the land.[1] [Footnote 1: For example: Tsimova and Panitsa in the Tainaron peninsula (Maina); Tsoupana and Khrysapha in Lakonia; Dhimitzana, Karytena, and Andhritsena in the centre of Peloponnesos, and Vostitsa on its north coast; Dobrena and Kaprena in Boiotia; Vonitza on the Gulf of Arta; Kardhitsa in the Thessalian plain.] With the coming of the Slavs darkness descends like a curtain upon Greek history. We catch glimpses of Arab hosts ranging across Anatolia at will and gazing at Slavonic hordes across the narrow Bosphorus. But always the Imperial fleet patrols the waters between, and always the triple defences of Constantinople defy the assailant. Then after about two centuries the floods subside, the gloom disperses, and the Greek world emerges into view once more. But the spectacle before us is unfamiliar, and most of the old landmarks have been swept away. By the middle of the ninth century A.D., the Imperial Government had reduced the Peloponnesos to order again, and found itself in the presence of three peoples. The greater part of the land was occupied by 'Romaioi'-- normal, loyal, Christian subjects of the empire--but in the hilly country between Eurotas, Taygetos, and the sea, two Slavonic tribes still maintained themselves in defiant savagery and worshipped their Slavonic gods, while beyond them the peninsula of Tainaron, now known as Maina, sheltered communities which still clung to the pagan name of Hellene and knew no other gods but Zeus, Athena, and Apollo. Hellene and Slav need not concern us. They were a vanishing minority, and the Imperial Government was more successful in obliterating their individuality than in making them contribute to its exchequer. The future lay with the Romaioi. The speech of these Romaioi was not the speech of Rome. 'Romaikà,' as it is still called popularly in the country-side, is a development of the 'koinè' or 'current' dialect of Ancient Greek, in which the Septuagint and the New Testament are written. The vogue of these books after the triumph of Christianity and the oncoming of the Dark Age, when they were the sole intellectual sustenance of the people, gave the idiom in which they were composed an exclusive prevalence. Except in Tzakonia--the iron-bound coast between Cape Malea and Nauplia Bay--all other dialects of Ancient Greek became extinct, and the varieties of the modern language are all differentiations of the 'koinè', along geographical lines which in no way correspond with those which divided Doric from Ionian. Yet though Romaic is descended from the 'koinè', it is almost as far removed from it as modern Italian is from the language of St. Augustine or Cicero. Ancient Greek possessed a pitch-accent only, which allowed the quantitative values of syllables to be measured against one another, and even to form the basis of a metrical system. In Romaic the pitch-accent has transformed itself into a stress-accent almost as violent as the English, which has destroyed all quantitative relation between accented and unaccented syllables, often wearing away the latter altogether at the termination of words, and always impoverishing their vowel sounds. In the ninth century A.D. this new enunciation was giving rise to a new poetical technique founded upon accent and rhyme, which first essayed itself in folk-songs and ballads,[1] and has since experimented in the same variety of forms as English poetry. [Footnote 1: The earliest products of the modern technique were called 'city' verses, because they originated in Constantinople, which has remained 'the city' _par excellence_ for the Romaic Greek ever since the Dark Age made it the asylum of his civilization.] These humble beginnings of a new literature were supplemented by the rudiments of a new art. Any visitor at Athens who looks at the three tiny churches [1] built in this period of first revival, and compares them with the rare pre-Norman churches of England, will find the same promise of vitality in the Greek architecture as in his own. The material--worked blocks of marble pillaged from ancient monuments, alternating with courses of contemporary brick--produces a completely new aesthetic effect upon the eye; and the structure--a grouping of lesser cupolas round a central dome-- is the very antithesis of the 'upright-and-horizontal' style which confronts him in ruins upon the Akropolis. [Footnote 1: The Old Metropolitan, the Kapnikaria, and St. Theodore.] These first achievements of Romaic architecture speak by implication of the characteristic difference between the Romaios and the Hellene. The linguistic and the aesthetic change were as nothing compared to the change in religion, for while the Hellene had been a pagan, the Romaios was essentially a member of the Christian Church. Yet this new and determining characteristic was already fortified by tradition. The Church triumphant had swiftly perfected its organisation on the model of the Imperial bureaucracy. Every Romaios owed ecclesiastical allegiance, through a hierarchy of bishops and metropolitans, to a supreme patriarch at Constantinople, and in the ninth century this administrative segregation of the imperial from the west-European Church had borne its inevitable fruit in a dogmatic divergence, and ripened into a schism between the Orthodox Christianity of the east on the one hand and the Catholicism of the Latin world on the other. The Orthodox Church exercised an important cultural influence over its Romaic adherents. The official language of its scriptures, creeds, and ritual had never ceased to be the Ancient Greek 'koinè' and by keeping the Romaios familiar with this otherwise obsolete tongue it kept him in touch with the unsurpassable literature of his Ancient Greek predecessors. The vast body of Hellenic literature had perished during the Dark Age, when all the energies of the race were absorbed by the momentary struggle for survival; but about a third of the greatest authors' greatest works had been preserved, and now that the stress was relieved, the wreckage of the remainder was sedulously garnered in anthologies, abridgements, and encyclopaedias. The rising monasteries offered a safe harbourage both for these compilations and for such originals as survived unimpaired, and in their libraries they were henceforth studied, cherished, and above all recopied with more or less systematic care. The Orthodox Church was thus a potent link between past and present, but the most direct link of all was the political survival of the Empire. Here, too, many landmarks had been swept away. The marvellous system of Roman Law had proved too subtle and complex for a world in the throes of dissolution. Within a century of its final codification by Justinian's commissioners) it had begun to fall into disuse, and was now replaced by more summary legislation, which was as deeply imbued with Mosaic principles as the literary language with the Hebraisms of the New Testament, and bristled with barbarous applications of the _Lex Talionis_. The administrative organization instituted by Augustus and elaborated by Diocletian had likewise disappeared, and the army-corps districts were the only territorial units that outlasted the Dark Age. Yet the tradition of order lived on. The army itself preserved Roman discipline and technique to a remarkable degree, and the military districts were already becoming the basis for a reconstituted civil government. The wealth of Latin technicalities incorporated in the Greek style of ninth-century officialdom witnesses to this continuity with the past and to the consequent political superiority of the Romaic Empire over contemporary western Europe. Within the Imperial frontiers the Romaic race was offered an apparently secure field for its future development. In the Balkan peninsula the Slav had been expelled or assimilated to the south of a line stretching from Avlona to Salonika. East of Salonika the empire still controlled little more in Europe than the ports of the littoral, and a military highway linking them with each other and with Constantinople. But beyond the Bosphorus the frontier included the whole body of Anatolia as far as Taurus and Euphrates, and here was the centre of gravity both of the Romaic state and of the Romaic nation. A new Greek nation had in fact come into being, and it found itself in touch with new neighbours, whom the Ancient Greek had never known. Eastward lay the Armenians, reviving, like the Greeks, after the ebb of the Arab flood, and the Arabs themselves, quiescent within their natural bounds and transfusing the wisdom of Aristotle and Hippokrates into their native culture. Both these peoples were sundered from the Orthodox Greek by religion[1] as well as by language, but a number of nationalities established on his opposite flank had been evangelized from Constantinople and followed the Orthodox patriarch in his schism with Rome. The most important neighbour of the Empire in this quarter was the Bulgarian kingdom, which covered all the Balkan hinterland from the Danube and the Black Sea to the barrier-fortresses of Adrianople and Salonika. It had been founded by a conquering caste of non-Slavonic nomads from the trans-Danubian steppes, but these were completely absorbed in the Slavonic population which they had endowed with their name and had preserved by political consolidation from the fate of their brethren further south. This Bulgarian state included a large 'Vlach' element descended from those Latin-speaking provincials whom the Slavs had pushed before them in their original migration; while the main body of the 'Rumans', whom the same thrust of invasion had driven leftwards across the Danube, had established itself in the mountains of Transylvania, and was just beginning to push down into the Wallachian and Moldavian plains. Like the Bulgars, this Romance population had chosen the Orthodox creed, and so had the purely Slavonic Serbs, who had replaced the Rumans in the basin of the Morava and the Bosnian hills, as far westward as the Adriatic coast. Beyond, the heathen Magyars had pressed into the Danubian plains like a wedge, and cut off the Orthodox world from the Latin-Teutonic Christendom of the west; but it looked as though the two divisions of Europe were embarked upon the same course of development. Both were evolving a system of strongly-knit nationalities, neither wholly interdependent nor wholly self-sufficient, but linked together in their individual growth by the ties of common culture and religion. In both the darkness was passing. The future of civilization seemed once more assured, and in the Orthodox world the new Greek nation seemed destined to play the leading part. [Footnote 1: The Armenians split off from the Catholic Church four centuries before the schism between the Roman and Orthodox sections of the latter.] His cultural and political heritage from his ancient predecessors gave the Romaic Greek in this period of revival an inestimable advantage over his cruder neighbours, and his superiority declared itself in an expansion of the Romaic Empire. In the latter half of the tenth century A.D. the nest of Arab pirates from Spain, which had established itself in Krete and terrorized the Aegean, was exterminated by the Emperor Nikiphóros Phokas, and on the eastern marches Antioch was gathered within the frontier at the Arabs' expense, and advanced posts pushed across Euphrates. In the first half of the eleventh century Basil, 'Slayer of the Bulgars', destroyed the Balkan kingdom after a generation of bitter warfare, and brought the whole interior of the peninsula under the sway of Constantinople. His successors turned their attention to the cast again, and attracted one Armenian principality after another within the Imperial protectorate. Nor was the revival confined to politics. The conversion of the Russians about A.D. 1000 opened a boundless hinterland to the Orthodox Church, and any one who glances at a series of Greek ivory carvings or studies Greek history from the original sources, will here encounter a literary and artistic renaissance remarkable enough to explain the fascination which the barbarous Russian and the outlandish Armenian found in Constantinople. Yet this renaissance had hardly set in before it was paralysed by an unexpected blow, which arrested the development of Modern Greece for seven centuries. Modern, like Ancient, Greece was assailed in her infancy by a conqueror from the east, and, unlike Ancient Greece, she succumbed. Turkish nomads from the central Asiatic steppes had been drifting into the Moslem world as the vigour of the Arabs waned. First they came as slaves, then as mercenaries, until at last, in the eleventh century, the clan of Seljuk grasped with a strong hand the political dominion of Islam. As champions of the caliph the Turkish sultans disputed the infidels encroachment on the Moslem border. They challenged the Romaic Empire's progress in Armenia, and in A.D. 1071--five years after the Norman founded at Hastings the strong government which has been the making of England--the Seljuk Turk shattered at the battle of Melasgerd that heritage of strong government which had promised so much to Greece. Melasgerd opened the way to Anatolia. The Arab could make no lodgement there, but in the central steppe of the temperate plateau the Turk found a miniature reproduction of his original environment. Tribe after tribe crossed the Oxus, to make the long pilgrimage to these new marches which their race had won for Islam on the west, and the civilization developed in the country by fifteen centuries of intensive and undisturbed Hellenization was completely blotted out. The cities wore isolated from one another till their commerce fell into decay. The elaborately cultivated lands around them were left fallow till they were good for nothing but the pasturage which was all that the nomad required. The only monuments of architecture that have survived in Anatolia above ground are the imposing khans or fortified rest-houses built by the Seljuk sultans themselves after the consolidation of their rule, and they are the best witnesses of the vigorous barbarism by which Romaic culture was effaced. The vitality of the Turk was indeed unquestionable. He imposed his language and religion upon the native Anatolian peasantry, as the Greek had imposed his before him, and in time adopted their sedentary life, though too late to repair the mischief his own nomadism had wrought. Turk and Anatolian coalesced into one people; every mountain, river, lake, bridge, and village in the country took on a Turkish name, and a new nation was established for ever in the heart of the Romaic world, which nourished itself on the life-blood of the Empire and was to prove the supreme enemy, of the race. This sequel to Melasgerd sealed the Empire's doom. Robbed of its Anatolian governing class and its Anatolian territorial army, it ceased to be self-sufficient, and the defenders it attracted from the west were at least as destructive as its eastern foes. The brutal régime of the Turks in the pilgrimage places of Syria had roused a storm of indignation in Latin Europe, and a cloud gathered in the west once more. It was heralded by adventurers from Normandy, who had first served the Romaic Government as mercenaries in southern Italy and then expelled their employers, about the time of Melasgerd, from their last foothold in the peninsula. Raids across the straits of Otranto carried the Normans up to the walls of Salonika, their fleets equipped in Sicily scoured the Aegean, and, before the eleventh century was out, they had followed up these reconnoitring expeditions by conducting Latin Christendom on its first crusade. The crusaders assembled at Constantinople, and the Imperial Government was relieved when the flood rolled on and spent itself further east. But one wave was followed by another, and the Empire itself succumbed to the fourth. In A.D. 1204, Constantinople was stormed by a Venetian flotilla and the crusading host it conveyed on board, and more treasures of Ancient Hellenism were destroyed in the sack of its hitherto inviolate citadel than had ever perished by the hand of Arab or Slav. With the fall of the capital the Empire dissolved in chaos, Venice and Genoa, the Italian trading cities whose fortune had been made by the crusades, now usurped the naval control of the Mediterranean which the Empire had exercised since Nikiphóros pacified Krete. They seized all strategical points of vantage on the Aegean coasts, and founded an 'extra-territorial' community at Pera across the Golden Horn, to monopolize the trade of Constantinople with the Black Sea. The Latins failed to retain their hold on Constantinople itself, for the puppet emperors of their own race whom they enthroned there were evicted within a century by Romaic dynasts, who clung to such fragments of Anatolia as had escaped the Turk. But the Latin dominion was less ephemeral in the southernmost Romaic provinces of Europe. The Latins' castles, more conspicuous than the relics of Hellas, still crown many high hills in Greece, and their French tongue has added another strain, to the varied nomenclature of the country.[1] Yet there also pandemonium prevailed. Burgundian barons, Catalan condottieri, and Florentine bankers snatched the Duchy of Athens from one another in bewildering succession, while the French princes of Achaia were at feud with their kindred vassals in the west of the Peloponnesos whenever they were not resisting the encroachments of Romaic despots in the south and east. To complete the anarchy, the non-Romaic peoples in the interior of the Balkan peninsula had taken the fall of Constantinople as a signal to throw off the Imperial yoke. In the hinterland of the capital the Bulgars had reconstituted their kingdom. The Romance-speaking Vlachs of Pindus moved down into the Thessalian plains. The aboriginal Albanians, who with their back to the Adriatic had kept the Slavs at bay, asserted their vitality and sent out migratory swarms to the south, which entered the service of the warring princelets and by their prowess won broad lands in every part of continental Greece, where Albanian place-names are to this day only less common than Slavonic. South-eastern Europe was again in the throes of social dissolution, and the convulsions continued till they were stilled impartially by the numbing hand of their ultimate author the Turk. [Footnote 1: e.g. Klemoutsi, Glarentsa (Clarence) and Gastouni--villages of the currant district in Peloponnesos--and Sant-Omeri, the mountain that overlooks them.] The Seljuk sultanate in Anatolia, shaken by the crusades, had gone the way of all oriental empires to make room for one of its fractions, which showed a most un-oriental faculty of organic growth. This was the extreme march on the north-western rim of the Anatolian plateau, overlooking the Asiatic littoral of the Sea of Marmora. It had been founded by one of those Turkish chiefs who migrated with their clans from beyond the Oxus; and it was consolidated by Othman his son, who extended his kingdom to the cities on the coast and invested his subjects with his own name. In 1355 the Narrows of Gallipoli passed into Ottoman hands, and opened a bridge to unexpected conquests in Europe. Serbia and Bulgaria collapsed at the first attack, and the hosts which marched to liberate them from Hungary and from France only ministered to Ottoman prestige by their disastrous discomfiture. Before the close of the fourteenth century the Ottoman sultan had transferred his capital to Adrianople, and had become immeasurably the strongest power in the Balkan peninsula. After that the end came quickly. At Constantinople the Romaic dynasty of Palaiologos had upheld a semblance of the Empire for more than a century after the Latin was expelled. But in 1453 the Imperial city fell before the assault of Sultan Mohammed; and before his death the conqueror eliminated all the other Romaic and Latin principalities from Peloponnesos to Trebizond, which had survived as enclaves to mar the uniformity of the Ottoman domain. Under his successors the tide of Ottoman conquest rolled on for half a century more over south-eastern Europe, till it was stayed on land beneath the ramparts of Vienna,[1] and culminated on sea, after the systematic reduction of the Venetian strongholds, in the capture of Rhodes from the Knights of St. John.[2] The Romaic race, which had been split into so many fragments during the dissolution of the Empire, was reunited again in the sixteenth century under the common yoke of the Turk. [Footnote 1: 1526.] [Footnote 2: 1522.] Even in the Dark Age, Greece had hardly been reduced to so desperate a condition as now. Through the Dark Age the Greek cities had maintained a continuous life, but Mohammed II depopulated Constantinople to repeople it with a Turkish majority from Anatolia. Greek commerce would naturally have benefited by the ejection of the Italians from the Levant, had not the Ottoman Government given asylum simultaneously to the Jews expelled from Spain. These Sephardim established themselves at Constantinople, Salonika, and all the other commercial centres of the Ottoman dominion, and their superiority in numbers and industry made them more formidable urban rivals of the Greeks than the Venetians and Genoese had ever been. Ousted from the towns, the Greek race depended for its preservation on the peasantry, yet Greece had never suffered worse rural oppression than under the Ottoman régime. The sultan's fiscal demands were the least part of the burden. The paralysing land-tax, collected in kind by irresponsible middlemen, was an inheritance from the Romaic Empire, and though it was now reinforced by the special capitation-tax levied by the sultan on his Christian subjects, the greater efficiency and security of his government probably compensated for the additional charge. The vitality of Greece was chiefly sapped by the ruthless military organization of the Ottoman state. The bulk of the Ottoman army was drawn from a feudal cavalry, bound to service, as in the mediaeval Latin world, in return for fiefs or 'timaria' assigned to them by their sovereign; and many beys and agas have bequeathed their names in perpetuity to the richest villages on the Messenian and Thessalian plains, to remind the modern peasant that his Christian ancestors once tilled the soil as serfs of a Moslem timariot. But the sultan, unlike his western contemporaries, was not content with irregular troops, and the serf-communes of Greece had to deliver up a fifth of their male children every fourth year to be trained at Constantinople as professional soldiers and fanatical Moslems. This corps of 'Janissaries'[1] was founded in the third generation of the Ottoman dynasty, and was the essential instrument of its military success. One race has never appropriated and exploited the vitality of another in so direct or so brutal a fashion, and the institution of 'tribute-children', so long as it lasted, effectually prevented any recovery of the Greek nation from the untimely blows which had stricken it down. [Footnote 1: Yeni Asker--New soldiery.] 2 _The Awakening of the Nation_ During the two centuries that followed the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople, the Greek race was in serious danger of annihilation. Its life-blood was steadily absorbed into the conquering community--quite regularly by the compulsory tribute of children and spasmodically by the voluntary conversion of individual households. The rich apostasized, because too heavy a material sacrifice was imposed upon them by loyalty to their national religion; the destitute, because they could not fail to improve their prospects by adhering to the privileged faith. Even the surviving organization of the Church had only been spared by the Ottoman Government in order to facilitate its own political system--by bringing the peasant, through the hierarchy of priest, bishop, and patriarch, under the moral control of the new Moslem master whom the ecclesiastics henceforth served. The scale on which wholesale apostasy was possible is shown by the case of Krete, which was conquered by the Turks from Venice just after these two centuries had closed, and was in fact the last permanent addition to the Turkish Empire. No urban or feudal settlers of Turkish blood were imported into the island. To this day the uniform speech of all Kretans is their native Greek. And yet the progressive conversion of whole clans and villages had transferred at least 20 per cent. of the population to the Moslem ranks before the Ottoman connexion was severed again in 1897. The survival of the Greek nationality did not depend on any efforts of the Greeks themselves. They were indeed no longer capable of effort, but lay passive under the hand of the Turk, like the paralysed quarry of some beast of prey. Their fate was conditional upon the development of the Ottoman state, and, as the two centuries drew to a close, that state entered upon a phase of transformation and of consequent weakness. The Ottoman organism has always displayed (and never more conspicuously than at the present moment) a much greater stability and vitality than any of its oriental predecessors. There was a vein of genius in its creators, and its youthful expansion permeated it with so much European blood that it became partly Europeanized in its inner tissues--sufficiently to partake, at any rate, in that faculty of indefinite organic growth which has so far revealed itself in European life. This acquired force has carried it on since the time when the impetus of its original institutions became spent--a time when purely oriental monarchies fall to pieces, and when Turkey herself hesitated between reconstruction and dissolution. That critical period began for her with the latter half of the seventeenth century, and incidentally opened new opportunities of life to her subject Greeks. Substantial relief from their burdens--the primary though negative condition of national revival--accrued to the Greek peasantry from the decay of Ottoman militarism in all its branches. The Turkish feudal aristocracy, which had replaced the landed nobility of the Romaic Empire in Anatolia and established itself on the choicest lands in conquered Europe, was beginning to decline in strength. We have seen that it failed to implant itself in Krete, and its numbers were already stationary elsewhere. The Greek peasant slowly began to regain ground upon his Moslem lord, and he profited further by the degeneration of the janissary corps at the heart of the empire. The janissaries had started as a militant, almost monastic body, condemned to celibacy, and recruited exclusively from the Christian tribute-children. But in 1566 they extorted the privilege of legal marriage for themselves, and of admittance into the corps for the sons of their wedlock. The next century completed their transformation from a standing army into a hereditary urban militia--an armed and privileged _bourgeoisie_, rapidly increasing in numbers and correspondingly jealous of extraneous candidates for the coveted vacancies in their ranks. They gradually succeeded in abolishing the enrolment of Christian recruits altogether, and the last regular levy of children for that purpose was made in 1676. Vested interests at Constantinople had freed the helpless peasant from the most crushing burden of all. At the same moment the contemporary tendency in western Europe towards bureaucratic centralization began to extend itself to the Ottoman Empire. Its exponents were the brothers Achmet and Mustapha Köprili, who held the grand-vizierate in succession. They laid the foundations of a centralized administration, and, since the unadaptable Turk offered no promising material for their policy, they sought their instruments in the subject race. The continental Greeks were too effectively crushed to aspire beyond the preservation of their own existence; but the islands had been less sorely tried, and Khios, which had enjoyed over two centuries[1] of prosperity under the rule of a Genoese chartered company, and exchanged it for Ottoman sovereignty under peculiarly lenient conditions, could still supply Achmet a century later with officials of the intelligence and education he required, Khiots were the first to fill the new offices of 'Dragoman of the Porte' (secretary of state) and 'Dragoman of the Fleet' (civil complement of the Turkish capitan-pasha); and they took care in their turn to staff the subordinate posts of their administration with a host of pushing friends and dependants. The Dragoman of the Fleet wielded the fiscal, and thereby in effect the political, authority over the Greek islands in the Aegean; but this was not the highest power to which the new Greek bureaucracy attained. Towards the beginning of the eighteenth century Moldavia and Wallachia--the two 'Danubian Provinces' now united in the kingdom of Rumania--were placed in charge of Greek officials with the rank of voivode or prince, and with practically sovereign power within their delegated dominions. A Danubian principality became the reward of a successful dragoman's career, and these high posts were rapidly monopolized by a close ring of official families, who exercised their immense patronage in favour of their race, and congregated round the Greek patriarch in the 'Phanari',[2] the Constantinopolitan slum assigned him for his residence by Mohammed the Conqueror. [Footnote 1: 1346-1566.] [Footnote 2: 'Lighthouse-quarter.'] The alliance of this parvenu 'Phanariot' aristocracy with the conservative Orthodox Church was not unnatural, for the Church itself had greatly extended its political power under Ottoman suzerainty. The Ottoman Government hardly regarded its Christian subjects as integral members of the state, and was content to leave their civil government in the hands of their spiritual pastors to an extent the Romaic emperors would never have tolerated. It allowed the Patriarchate at Constantinople to become its official intermediary with the Greek race, and it further extended the Greek patriarch's authority over the other conquered populations of Orthodox faith--Bulgars, Rumans, and Serbs--which had never been incorporated in the ecclesiastical or political organization of the Romaic Empire, but which learnt under Ottoman rule to receive their priests and bishops from the Greek ecclesiastics of the capital, and even to call themselves by the Romaic name. In 1691 Mustapha Köprili recognized and confirmed the rights of all Christian subjects of the Sultan by a general organic law. Mustapha's 'New Ordinance' was dictated by the reverses which Christians beyond the frontier were inflicting upon the Ottoman arms, for pressure from without had followed hard upon disintegration within. Achmet's pyrrhic triumph over Candia in 1669 was followed in 1683 by his brother Mustapha's disastrous discomfiture before the walls of Vienna, and these two sieges marked the turn of the Ottoman tide. The ebb was slow, yet the ascendancy henceforth lay with Turkey's Christian neighbours, and they began to cut short her frontiers on every side. The Venetians had never lost hold upon the 'Ionian' chain of islands-- Corfù, Cefalonia, Zante, and Cerigo--which flank the western coast of Greece, and in 1685 they embarked on an offensive on the mainland, which won them undisputed possession of Peloponnesos for twenty years.[1] Venice was far nearer than Turkey to her dissolution, and spent the last spasm of her energy on this ephemeral conquest. Yet she had maintained the contact of the Greek race with western Europe during the two centuries of despair, and the interlude of her rule in Peloponnesos was a fitting culmination to her work; for, brief though it was, it effectively broke the Ottoman tradition, and left behind it a system of communal self-government among the Peloponnesian Greeks which the returning Turk was too feeble to sweep away. The Turks gained nothing by the rapid downfall of Venice, for Austria as rapidly stepped into her place, and pressed with fresh vigour the attack from the north-west. North-eastward, too, a new enemy had arisen in Russia, which had been reorganized towards the turn of the century by Peter the Great with a radical energy undreamed of by any Turkish Köprili, and which found its destiny in opposition to the Ottoman Empire. The new Orthodox power regarded itself as the heir of the Romaic Empire from which it had received its first Christianity and culture. It aspired to repay the Romaic race in adversity by championing it against its Moslem oppressors, and sought its own reward in a maritime outlet on the Black Sea. From the beginning of the eighteenth century Russia repeatedly made war on Turkey, either with or without the co-operation of Austria; but the decisive bout in the struggle was the war of 1769-74. A Russian fleet appeared in the Mediterranean, raised an insurrection in Peloponnesos, and destroyed the Turkish squadron in battle. The Russian armies were still more successful on the steppes, and the Treaty of Kutchuk Kainardji not only left the whole north coast of the Black Sea in Russia's possession, but contained an international sanction for the rights of the sultan's Orthodox subjects. In 1783 a supplementary commercial treaty extorted for the Ottoman Greeks the right to trade under the Russian flag. The territorial sovereignty of Turkey in the Aegean remained intact, but the Russian guarantee gave the Greek race a more substantial security than the shadowy ordinance of Mustapha Köprili. The paralysing prestige of the Porte was broken, and Greek eyes were henceforth turned in hope towards Petersburg. [Footnote 1: 1699-1718.] By the end of the eighteenth century the condition of the Greeks had in fact changed remarkably for the better, and the French and English travellers who now began to visit the Ottoman Empire brought away the impression that a critical change in its internal equilibrium was at hand. The Napoleonic wars had just extinguished the Venetian Republic and swept the Ionian Islands into the struggle between England and France for the mastery of the Mediterranean. England had fortified herself in Cefalonia and Zante, France in Corfù, and interest centred on the opposite mainland, where Ali Pasha of Yannina maintained a formidable neutrality towards either power. The career of Ali marked that phase in the decline of an Oriental empire when the task of strong government becomes too difficult for the central authority and is carried on by independent satraps with greater efficiency in their more limited sphere. Ali governed the Adriatic hinterland with practically sovereign power, and compelled the sultan for some years to invest his sons with the pashaliks of Thessaly and Peloponnesos. The greater part of the Greek race thus came in some degree under his control, and his policy towards it clearly reflected the transition from the old to the new. He waged far more effective war than the distant sultan upon local liberties, and, though the elimination of the feudal Turkish landowner was pure gain to the Greeks, they suffered themselves from the loss of traditional privileges which the original Ottoman conquest had left intact. The Armatoli, a local Christian militia who kept order in the mountainous mainland north of Peloponnesos where Turkish feudatories were rare, were either dispersed by Ali or enrolled in his regular army. And he was ruthless in the extermination of recalcitrant communities, like Agrapha on the Aspropotarno, which had never been inscribed on the taxation-rolls of the Romaic or the Ottoman treasury, or Suli, a robber clan ensconced in the mountains Immediately west of Ali's capital. On the other hand, the administration of these pacified and consolidated dominions became as essentially Greek in character as the Phanariot régime beyond the Danube. Ali was a Moslem and an Albanian, but the Orthodox Greeks were in a majority among his subjects, and he knew how to take advantage of their abilities. His business was conducted by Greek secretaries in the Greek tongue, and Yannina, his capital, was a Greek city. European visitors to Yannina (for every one began the Levantine tour by paying his respects to Ali) were struck by the enterprise and intelligence of its citizens. The doctors were competent, because they had taken their education in Italy or France; the merchants were prosperous, because they had established members of their family at Odessa, Trieste, or even Hamburg, as permanent agents of their firm. A new Greek _bourgeoisie_ had arisen, in close contact with the professional life of western Europe, and equally responsive to the new philosophical and political ideas that were being propagated by the French Revolution. This intellectual ferment was the most striking change of all. Since the sack of Constantinople in 1204, Greek culture had retired into the monasteries--inaccessible fastnesses where the monks lived much the same life as the clansmen of Suli or Agrapha. Megaspélaion, the great cave quarried in the wall of a precipitous Peloponnesian ravine; Metéora, suspended on half a dozen isolated pinnacles of rock in Thessaly, where the only access was by pulley or rope-ladder; 'Ayon Oros', the confederation of monasteries great and small upon the mountain-promontory of Athos--these succeeded in preserving a shadow of the old tradition, at the cost of isolation from all humane influences that might have kept their spiritual inheritance alive. Their spirit was mediaeval, ecclesiastical, and as barren as their sheltering rocks; and the new intellectual disciples of Europe turned to the monasteries in vain. The biggest ruin on Athos is a boys' school planned in the eighteenth century to meet the educational needs of all the Orthodox in the Ottoman Empire, and wrecked on the reefs of monastic obscurantism. But its founder, the Corfiot scholar Evyénios Voulgáris, did not hesitate to break with the past. He put his own educational ideas into practice at Yannina and Constantinople, and contributed to the great achievement of his contemporary, the Khiot Adhamandios Koráis, who settled in Paris and there evolved a literary adaptation of the Romaic patois to supersede the lifeless travesty of Attic style traditionally affected by ecclesiastical penmen. But the renaissance was not confined to Greeks abroad. The school on Athos failed, but others established themselves before the close of the eighteenth century in the people's midst, even in the smaller towns and the remoter villages. The still flourishing secondary school of Dhimitzána, in the heart of Peloponnesos, began its existence in this period, and the national revival found expression in a new name. Its prophets repudiated the 'Romaic' name, with its associations of ignorance and oppression, and taught their pupils to think of themselves as 'Hellenes' and to claim in their own right the intellectual and political liberty of the Ancient Greeks. This spiritual 'Hellenism', however, was only one manifestation of returning vitality, and was ultimately due to the concrete economic development with which it went hand in hand. The Greeks, who had found culture in western Europe, had come there for trade, and their commercial no less than their intellectual activity reacted in a penetrating way upon their countrymen at home. A mountain village like Ambelakia in Thessaly found a regular market for its dyed goods in Germany, and the commercial treaty of 1783 between Turkey and Russia encouraged communities which could make nothing of the land to turn their attention to the sea. Galaxhidi, a village on the northern shore of the Korinthian Gulf, whose only asset was its natural harbour, and Hydhra, Spetza, and Psarà, three barren little islands in the Aegean, had begun to lay the foundations of a merchant marine, when Napoleon's boycott and the British blockade, which left no neutral flag but the Ottoman in the Mediterranean, presented the Greek shipmen that sailed under it with an opportunity they exploited to the full. The whitewashed houses of solid stone, rising tier above tier up the naked limestone mountainside, still testify to the prosperity which chance thus suddenly brought to the Hydhriots and their fellow islanders, and did not withdraw again till it had enabled them to play a decisive part in their nation's history. Their ships were small, but they were home-built, skilfully navigated, and profitably employed in the carrying trade of the Mediterranean ports. Their economic life was based on co-operation, for the sailors, as well as the captain and owner of the ship, who were generally the same person, took shares in the outlay and profit of each voyage; but their political organization was oligarchical--an executive council elected by and from the owners of the shipping. Feud and intrigue were rife between family and family, class and class, and between the native community and the resident aliens, without seriously affecting the vigour and enterprise of the commonwealth as a whole. These seafaring islands on the eve of the modern Greek Revolution were an exact reproduction of the Aigina, Korinth, and Athens which repelled the Persian from Ancient Greece. The germs of a new national life were thus springing up among the Greeks in every direction-- in mercantile colonies scattered over the world from Odessa to Alexandria and from Smyrna to Trieste; among Phanariot princes in the Danubian Provinces and their ecclesiastical colleagues at Constantinople; in the islands of the Aegean and the Ionian chain, and upon the mountains of Suli and Agrapha. But the ambitions this national revival aroused were even greater than the reality itself. The leaders of the movement did not merely aspire to liberate the Greek nation from the Turkish yoke. They were conscious of the assimilative power their nationality possessed. The Suliots, for example, were an immigrant Albanian tribe, who had learnt to speak Greek from the Greek peasants over whom they tyrannized. The Hydhriot and Spetziot islanders were Albanians too, who had even clung to their primitive language during the two generations since they took up their present abode, but had become none the less firmly linked to their Greek-speaking neighbours in Peloponnesos by their common fellowship in the Orthodox Church. The numerous Albanian colonies settled up and down the Greek continent were at least as Greek in feeling as they. And why should not the same prove true of the Bulgarian population, in the Balkans, who had belonged from the beginning to the Orthodox Church, and had latterly been brought by improvident Ottoman policy within the Greek patriarch's fold? Or why should not the Greek administrators beyond the Danube imbue their Ruman subjects with a sound Hellenic sentiment? In fact, the prophets of Hellenism did not so much desire to extricate the Greek nation from the Ottoman Empire as to make it the ruling element in the empire itself by ejecting the Moslem Turks from their privileged position and assimilating all populations of Orthodox faith. These dreams took shape in the foundation of a secret society--the 'Philikì Hetairía' or 'League of Friends'--which established itself at Odessa in 1814 with the connivence of the Russian police, and opened a campaign of propaganda in anticipation of an opportunity to strike. The initiative came from the Ottoman Government itself. At the weakest moment in its history the empire found in Sultan Mahmud a ruler of peculiar strength, who saw that the only hope of overcoming his dangers lay in meeting them half-way. The national movement of Hellenism was gathering momentum in the background, but it was screened by the personal ambitions of Ali of Yannina, and Mahmud reckoned to forestall both enemies by quickly striking Ali down. In the winter of 1819-20 Ali was outlawed, and in the spring the invasion of his territories began. Both the Moslem combatants enlisted Christian Armatoli, and all continental Greece was under arms. By the end of the summer Ali's outlying strongholds had fallen, his armies were driven in, and he himself was closely invested in Yannina; but with autumn a deadlock set in, and the sultan's reckoning was thrown out. In November 1820 the veteran soldier Khurshid was appointed to the pashalik of Peloponnesos to hold the Greeks in check and close accounts with Ali. In March 1821, after five months spent in organizing his province, Khurshid felt secure enough to leave it for the Yannina lines. But he was mistaken; for within a month of his departure Peloponnesos was ablaze. The 'Philikì Hetairía' had decided to act, and the Peloponnesians responded enthusiastically to the signal. In the north Germanòs, metropolitan bishop of Patras, rallied the insurgents at the monastery of Megaspélaion, and unfurled the monastic altar-cloth as a national standard. In the south the peninsula of Maina, which had been the latest refuge of ancient Hellenism, was now the first to welcome the new, and to throw off the shadowy allegiance it had paid for a thousand years to Romaic archonts and Ottoman capitan-pashas. Led by Petros Mavromichalis, the chief of the leading clan, the Mainates issued from their mountains. This was in April, and by the middle of May all the open country had been swept clear, and the hosts joined hands before Tripolitza, which was the seat of Ottoman government at the central point of the province. The Turkish garrison attacked, but was heavily defeated at Valtetzi by the tactical skill of Theodore Kolokotrónis the 'klepht', who had become experienced in guerrilla warfare through his alternate professions of brigand and gendarme--a career that had increased its possibilities as the Ottoman system decayed. After Kolokotrónis's victory, the Greeks kept Tripolitza under a close blockade. Early in October it fell amid frightful scenes of pillage and massacre, and Ottoman dominion in the Peloponnesos fell with it. On January 22, 1822, Korinth, the key to the isthmus, passed into the Greeks' hands, and only four fortresses--Nauplia, Patras, Koron, and Modhon--still held out within it against Greek investment. Not a Turk survived in the Peloponnesos beyond their walls, for the slaughter at Tripolitza was only the most terrible instance of what happened wherever a Moslem colony was found. In Peloponnesos, at any rate, the revolution had been grimly successful. There had also been successes at sea. The merchant marine of the Greek islands had suffered grievously from the fall of Napoleon and the settlement at Vienna, which, by restoring normal conditions of trade, had destroyed their abnormal monopoly. The revolution offered new opportunities for profitable venture, and in April 1821 Hydhra, Spetza and Psarà hastened to send a privateering fleet to sea. As soon as the fleet crossed the Aegean, Samos rid itself of the Turks. At the beginning of June the rickety Ottoman squadron issued from the Dardanelles, but it was chased back by the islanders under the lee of Mitylini. Memories of Russian naval tactics in 1770 led the Psariots to experiment in fire-ships, and one of the two Turkish ships of the line fell a victim to this attack. Within a week of setting sail, the diminished Turkish squadron was back again in the Dardanelles, and the islanders were left with the command of the sea. The general Christian revolution thus seemed fairly launched, and in the first panic the threatened Moslems began reprisals of an equally general kind. In the larger Turkish cities there were massacres of Christian minorities, and the Government lent countenance to them by murdering its own principal Christian official Gregorios, the Greek patriarch at Constantinople, on April 22, 1821. But Sultan Mahmud quickly recovered himself. He saw that his empire could not survive a racial war, and determined to prevent the present revolt from assuming such a character. His plan was to localize it by stamping out the more distant sparks with all his energy, before concentrating his force at leisure upon the main conflagration. This policy was justified by the event. On March 6 the 'Philikì Hetairia' at Odessa had opened its own operations in grandiose style by sending a filibustering expedition across the Russo-Turkish frontier under command of Prince Alexander Hypsilantis, a Phanariot in the Russian service. Hypsilantis played for a general revolt of the Ruman population in the Danubian Principalities and a declaration of war against Turkey on the part of Russia. But the Rumans had no desire to assist the Greek bureaucrats who oppressed them, and the Tsar Alexander had been converted by the experiences of 1812-13 to a pacifistic respect for the _status quo_. Prince Hypsilantis was driven ignominiously to internment across the Austrian frontier, little more than a hundred days after his expedition began; and his fiasco assured the Ottoman Government of two encouraging facts--that the revolution would not carry away the whole Orthodox population but would at any rate confine itself to the Greeks; and that the struggle against it would be fought out for the present, at least, without foreign intervention. In the other direction, however, rebellion was spreading northward from Peloponnesos to continental Greece. Galaxídhi revolted in April, and was followed in June by Mesolonghi--a prosperous town of fishermen, impregnably situated in the midst of the lagoons at the mouth of the Aspropotamo, beyond the narrows of the Korinthian Gulf. By the end of the month, north-western Greece was free as far as the outposts of Khurshid Pasha beyond the Gulf of Arta. Further eastward, again, in the mountains between the Gulf of Korinth and the river Elládha (Sperkheiòs), the Armatoli of Ali's faction had held their ground, and gladly joined the revolution on the initiative of their captains Dhiakos and Odhyssèvs. But the movement found its limits. The Turkish garrison of Athens obstinately held out during the winter of 1821-2, and the Moslems of Negrepont (Euboía) maintained their mastery in the island. In Agrapha they likewise held their own, and, after one severely punished raid, the Agraphiot Armatoli were induced to re-enter the sultan's service on liberal terms. The Vlachs in the gorges of the Aspropotamo were pacified with equal success; and Dramali, Khurshid's lieutenant, who guarded the communications between the army investing Yannina and its base at Constantinople, was easily able to crush all symptoms of revolt in Thessaly from his head-quarters at Lárissa. Still further east, the autonomous Greek villages on the mountainous promontories of Khalkidhiki had revolted in May, in conjunction with the well-supplied and massively fortified monasteries of the 'Ayon Oros'; but the Pasha of Salonika called down the South Slavonic Moslem landowners from the interior, sacked the villages, and amnestied the monastic confederation on condition of establishing a Turkish garrison in their midst and confiscating their arms. The monks' compliance was assisted by the excommunication under which the new patriarch at Constantinople had placed all the insurgents by the sultan's command. The movement was thus successfully localised on the European continent, and further afield it was still more easily cut short. After the withdrawal of the Turkish squadron, the Greek fleet had to look on at the systematic destruction of Kydhonies,[1] a flourishing Greek industrial town on the mainland opposite Mitylini which had been founded under the sultan's auspices only forty years before. All that the islanders could do was to take off the survivors in their boats; and when they dispersed to their ports in autumn, the Ottoman ships came out again from the Dardanelles, sailed round Peloponnesos into the Korinthian Gulf, and destroyed Galaxídhi. A still greater catastrophe followed the reopening of naval operations next spring. In March 1822 the Samians landed a force on Khios and besieged the Turkish garrison, which was relieved after three weeks by the arrival of the Ottoman fleet. A month later the Greek fleet likewise appeared on the scene, and on June 18 a Psariot captain, Constantine Kanaris, actually destroyed the Ottoman flag-ship by a daring fire-ship attack. Upon this the Ottoman fleet fled back as usual to the Dardanelles; yet the only consequence was the complete devastation, in revenge, of helpless Khios. The long-shielded prosperity of the island was remorselessly destroyed, the people were either enslaved or massacred, and the victorious fleet had to stand by as passively this time as at the destruction of Kydhonies the season before. In the following summer, again, the same fate befell Trikéri, a maritime community on the Gulf of Volo which had gained its freedom when the rest of Thessaly stirred in vain; and so in 1823 the revolution found itself confined on sea, as well as on land, to the focus where it had originated in April 1821. [Footnote 1: Turkish Aivali.] This isolation was a practical triumph for Sultan Mahmud. The maintenance of the Ottoman Empire on the basis of Moslem ascendancy was thereby assured; but it remained to be seen whether the isolated area could now be restored to the _status quo_ in which the rest of his dominions had been retained. During the whole season of 1821 the army of Khurshid had been held before Yannina. But in February 1822 Yannina fell, Ali was slain, his treasure seized, and his troops disbanded. The Ottoman forces were liberated for a counterattack on Peloponnesos. Already in April Khurshid broke up his camp at Lárissa, and his lieutenant Dramali was given command of the new expedition towards the south. He crossed the Sperkheiòs at the beginning of July with an army of twenty thousand men.[1] Athens had capitulated to Odhyssèvs ten days before; but it had kept open the road for Dramali, and north-eastern Greece fell without resistance into his hands. The citadel of Korinth surrendered as tamely as the open country, and he was master of the isthmus before the end of the month. Nauplia meanwhile had been treating with its besiegers for terms, and would have surrendered to the Greeks already if they had not driven their bargain so hard. Dramali hurried on southward into the plain to the fortress's relief, raised the siege, occupied the town of Argos, and scattered the Greek forces into the hills. But the citadel of Argos held out against him, and the positions were rapidly reversed. Under the experienced direction of Kolokotrónis, the Greeks from their hill-fastnesses ringed round the plain of Argos and scaled up every issue. Dramali's supplies ran out. An attempt of his vanguard to break through again towards the north was bloodily repulsed, and he barely succeeded two days later in extricating the main body in a demoralized condition, with the loss of all his baggage-train. The Turkish army melted away, Dramali was happy to die at Korinth, and Khurshid was executed by the sultan's command. The invasion of Peloponnesos had broken down, and nothing could avert the fall of Nauplia. The Ottoman fleet hovered for one September week in the offing, but Kanaris's fire-ships took another ship of the line in toll at the roadsteads of Tenedos before it safely regained the Dardanelles. The garrison of Nauplia capitulated in December, on condition of personal security and liberty, and the captain of a British frigate, which arrived on the spot, took measures that the compact should be observed instead of being broken by the customary massacre. But the strongest fortress in Peloponnesos was now in Greek hands. [Footnote 1: Including a strong contingent of Moslem Slavs--Bulgarian Pomaks from the Aegean hinterland and Serbian Bosniaks from the Adriatic.] In the north-west the season had not passed so well. When the Turks invested Ali in Yannina, they repatriated the Suliot exiles in their native mountains. But a strong sultan was just as formidable to the Suliots as a strong pasha, so they swelled their ranks by enfranchising their peasant-serfs, and made common cause with their old enemy in his adversity. Now that Ali was destroyed, the Suliots found themselves in a precarious position, and turned to the Greeks for aid. But on July 16 the Greek advance was checked by a severe defeat at Petta in the plain of Arta. In September the Suliots evacuated their impregnable fortresses in return for a subsidy and a safe-conduct, and Omer Vrioni, the Ottoman commander in the west,[1] was free to advance in turn towards the south. On November 6 he actually laid siege to Mesolonghi, but here his experiences were as discomfiting as Dramali's. He could not keep open his communications, and after heavy losses retreated again to Arta in January 1823. [Footnote 1: He was a renegade officer of Ali's.] In 1823 the struggle seemed to be lapsing into stalemate. The liberated Peloponnesos had failed to propagate the revolution through the remainder of the Ottoman Empire; the Ottoman Government had equally failed to reconquer the Peloponnesos by military invasion. This season's operations only seemed to emphasize the deadlock. The Ottoman commander in the west raised an auxiliary force of Moslem and Catholic clansmen from northern Albania, and attempted to reach Mesolonghi once more. But he penetrated no further than Anatolikòn--the Mesolonghiots' outpost village at the head of the lagoons--and the campaign was only memorable for the heroic death of Marko Botzaris the Suliot in a night attack upon the Ottoman camp. At sea, the two fleets indulged in desultory cruises without an encounter, for the Turks were still timid and incompetent, while the growing insubordination and dissension on the Greek ships made concerted action there, too, impossible. By the end of the season it was clear that the struggle could only definitively be decided by the intervention of a third party on one side or the other--unless the Greeks brought their own ruin upon themselves. This indeed was not unlikely to happen; for the new house of Hellenism had hardly arisen before it became desperately divided against itself. The vitality of the national movement resided entirely in the local communes. It was they that had found the fighting men, kept them armed and supplied, and by spontaneous co-operation expelled the Turk from Peloponnesos. But if the co-operation was to be permanent it must have a central organization, and with the erection of this superstructure the troubles began. As early as June 1821 a 'Peloponnesian Senate' was constituted and at once monopolized by the 'Primates', the propertied class that had been responsible for the communal taxes under the Romaic and Ottoman régimes and was allowed to control the communal government in return. About the same time two Phanariot princes threw in their lot with the revolution-- Alexander Mavrokordatos and Demetrius, the more estimable brother of the futile Alexander Hypsilantis. Both were saturated with the most recent European political theory, and they committed the peasants and seamen of the liberated districts to an ambitious constitutionalism. In December 1821 a 'National Assembly' met at Epidauros, passed an elaborate organic law, and elected Mavrokordatos first president of the Hellenic Republic. The struggle for life and death in 1822 had staved off the internal crisis, but the Peloponnesian Senate remained obstinately recalcitrant towards the National Government in defence of its own vested interests; and the insubordination of the fleet in 1823 was of one piece with the political faction which broke out as soon as the immediate danger from without was removed. Towards the end of 1823 European 'Philhellenes' began to arrive in Greece. In those dark days of reaction that followed Waterloo, self-liberated Hellas seemed the one bright spot on the continent; but the idealists who came to offer her their services were confronted with a sorry spectacle. The people were indifferent to their leaders, and the leaders at variance among themselves. The gentlemanly Phanariots had fallen into the background. Mavrokordatos only retained influence in north-western Greece. In Peloponnesos the Primates were all-powerful, and Kolokotrónis the klepht was meditating a popular dictatorship at their expense. In the north-east the adventurer Odhyssévs had won a virtual dictatorship already, and was suspected of intrigue with the Turks; and all this factious dissension rankled into civil war as soon as the contraction of a loan in Great Britain had invested the political control of the Hellenic Republic with a prospective value in cash. The first civil war was fought between Kolokotrónis on the one side and the Primates of Hydhra and Peloponnesos on the other; but the issue was decided against Kolokotrónis by the adhesion to the coalition of Kolettis the Vlach, once physician to Mukhtar Pasha, the son of Ali, and now political agent for all the northern Armatoli in the national service. The fighting lasted from November 1823 to June 1824, and was followed by another outbreak in November of the latter year, when the victors quarrelled over the spoils, and the Primates were worsted in turn by the islanders and the Armatoli. The nonentity Kondouriottis of Hydhra finally emerged as President of Greece, with the sharp-witted Kolettis as his principal wire-puller, but the disturbances did not cease till the last instalment of the loan had been received and squandered and there was no more spoil to fight for. Meanwhile, Sultan Mahmud had been better employed. Resolved to avert stalemate by the only possible means, he had applied in the course of 1823 to Mohammed Ali Pasha of Egypt, a more formidable, though more distant, satrap than Ali of Yannina himself. Mohammed Ali had a standing army and navy organized on the European model. He had also a son Ibrahim, who knew how to manoeuvre them, and was ambitious of a kingdom. Mahmud hired the father's troops and the son's generalship for the re-conquest of Peloponnesos, under engagement to invest Ibrahim with the pashalik as soon as he should effectively make it his own. By this stroke of diplomacy a potential rebel was turned into a willing ally, and the preparations for the Egyptian expedition went forward busily through the winter of 1823-4. The plan of campaign was systematically carried out. During the season of respite the Greek islanders had harried the coasts and commerce of Anatolia and Syria at will. The first task was to deprive them of their outposts in the Aegean, and an advanced squadron of the Egyptian fleet accordingly destroyed the community of Kasos in June 1824, while the Ottoman squadron sallied out of the Dardanelles a month later and dealt out equal measure to Psarà. The two main flotillas then effected a junction off Rhodes; and, though the crippled Greek fleet still ventured pluckily to confront them, it could not prevent Ibrahim from casting anchor safely in Soudha Bay and landing his army to winter in Krete. In February 1825 he transferred these troops with equal impunity to the fortress of Modhon, which was still held for the sultan by an Ottoman garrison. The fire-ships of Hydhra came to harry his fleet too late, and on land the Greek forces were impotent against his trained soldiers. The Government in vain promoted Kolokotrónis from captivity to commandership-in-chief. The whole south-western half of Peloponnesos passed into Ibrahim's hands, and in June 1825 he even penetrated as far as the mills of Lerna on the eastern coast, a few miles south of Argos itself. At the same time the Ottoman army of the west moved south again under a new commander, Rashid Pasha of Yannina, and laid final siege on April 27 to Mesolonghi, just a year after Byron had died of fever within its walls. The Greeks were magnificent in their defence of these frail mud-bastions, and they more than held their own in the amphibious warfare of the lagoons. The struggle was chequered by the continual coming and going of the Greek and Ottoman fleets. They were indeed the decisive factor; for without the supporting squadron Rashid would have found himself in the same straits as his predecessors at the approach of autumn, while the slackness of the islanders in keeping the sea allowed Mesolonghi to be isolated in January 1826. The rest was accomplished by the arrival of Ibrahim on the scene. His heavy batteries opened fire in February; his gunboats secured command of the lagoons, and forced Anatolikòn to capitulate in March. In April provisions in Mesolonghi itself gave out, and, scorning surrender, the garrison--men, women, and children together-- made a general sortie on the night of April 22. Four thousand fell, three thousand were taken, and two thousand won through. It was a glorious end for Mesolonghi, but it left the enemy in possession of all north-western Greece. The situation was going from bad to worse. Ibrahim returned to Peloponnesos, and steadily pushed forward his front, ravaging as steadily as he went. Rashid, after pacifying the north-west, moved on to the north-eastern districts, where the national cause had been shaken by the final treachery and speedy assassination of Odhyssèvs. Siege was laid to Athens in June, and the Greek Government enlisted in vain the military experience of its Philhellenes. Fabvier held the Akropolis, but Generalissimo Sir Richard Church was heavily defeated in the spring of 1827 in an attempt to relieve him from the Attic coast; Grand Admiral Cochrane saw his fleet sail home for want of payment in advance, when he summoned it for review at Poros; and Karaiskakis, the Greek captain of Armatoli, was killed in a skirmish during his more successful efforts to harass Rashid's communications by land. On June 5, 1827, the Greek garrison of the Akropolis marched out on terms. It looked as if the Greek effort after independence would be completely crushed, and as if Sultan Mahmud would succeed in getting his empire under control. In September 1826 he had rid it at last of the mischief at its centre by blowing up the janissaries in their barracks at Constantinople. Turkey seemed almost to have weathered the storm when she was suddenly overborne by further intervention on the other side. Tsar Alexander, the vaccillator, died in November 1825, and was succeeded by his son Nicholas I, as strong a character and as active a will as Sultan Mahmud himself. Nicholas approached the Greek question without any disinclination towards a Turkish war; and both Great Britain and France found an immediate interest in removing a ground of provocation which might lead to such a rude disturbance of the European 'Balance of Power'. On July 6, 1827, a month after Athens surrendered, the three powers concluded a treaty for the pacification of Greece, in which they bound over both belligerent parties to accept an armistice under pain of military coercion. An allied squadron appeared off Navarino Bay to enforce this policy upon the Ottoman and Egyptian fleet which lay united there, and the intrusion of the allied admirals into the bay itself precipitated on October 20 a violent naval battle in which the Moslem flotilla was destroyed. The die was cast; and in April 1828 the Russian and Ottoman Governments drifted into a formal war, which brought Russian armies across the Danube as far as Adrianople, and set the Ottoman Empire at bay for the defence of its capital. Thanks to Mahmud's reorganization, the empire did not succumb to this assault; but it had no more strength to spare for the subjugation of Greece. The Greeks had no longer to reckon with the sultan as a military factor; and in August 1828 they wore relieved of Ibrahim's presence as well, by the disembarkation of 14,000 French troops in Peloponnesos to superintend the withdrawal of the Egyptian forces. In March 1829 the three powers delimited the Greek frontier. The line ran east and west from the Gulf of Volo to the Gulf of Arta, and assigned to the new state no more and no less territory than the districts that had effectively asserted their independence against the sultan in 1821. This settlement was the only one possible under the circumstances; but it was essentially transitory, for it neglected the natural line of nationality altogether, and left a numerical majority of the Greek race, as well as the most important centres of its life, under the old régime of servitude. Even the liberated area was not at the end of its troubles. In the spring of 1827, when they committed themselves into the hands of their foreign patrons, the Greeks had found a new president for the republic in John Kapodistrias, an intimate of Alexander the tsar. Kapodistrias was a Corfiote count, with a Venetian education and a career in the Russian diplomatic service, and no one could have been more fantastically unsuitable for the task of reconstructing the country to which he was called. Kapodistrias' ideal was the _fin-de-siècle_ 'police-state'; but 'official circles' did not exist in Greece, and he had no acquaintance with the peasants and sailors whom he hoped to redeem by bureaucracy. He instituted a hierarchically centralized administration which made the abortive constitution of Mavrokordatos seem sober by comparison; he trampled on the liberty of the rising press, which was the most hopeful educational influence in the country; and he created superfluous ministerial portfolios for his untalented brothers. In fact he reglamented Greece from his palace at Aigina like a divinely appointed autocrat, from his arrival in January 1828 till the summer of 1831, when he provoked the Hydhriots to open rebellion, and commissioned the Russian squadron in attendance to quell them by a naval action, with the result that Poros was sacked by the President's regular army and the national fleet was completely destroyed. After that, he attempted to rule as a military dictator, and fell foul of the Mavromichalis of Maina. The Mainates knew better how to deal with the 'police-state' than the Hydhriots; and on October 9, 1831, Kapodistrias was assassinated in Nauplia, at the church door, by two representatives of the Mavromichalis clan. The country lapsed into utter anarchy. Peloponnesians and Armatoli, Kolokotronists and Kolettists, alternately appointed and deposed subservient national assemblies and governing commissions by naked violence, which culminated in a gratuitous and disastrous attack upon the French troops stationed in Peloponnesos for their common protection. The three powers realized that it was idle to liberate Greece from Ottoman government unless they found her another in its place. They decided on monarchy, and offered the crown, in February 1832, to Prince Otto, a younger son of the King of Bavaria. The negotiations dragged on many months longer than Greece could afford to wait. But in July 1832 the sultan recognized the sovereign independence of the kingdom of Hellas in consideration of a cash indemnity; and in February 1833, just a year after the first overtures had been made, the appointed king arrived at Nauplia with a decorative Bavarian staff and a substantial loan from the allies. 3 _The Consolidation of the State_ Half the story of Greece is told. We have watched the nation awake and put forth its newly-found strength in a great war of independence, and we have followed the course of the struggle to its result--the foundation of the kingdom of Hellas. It is impossible to close this chapter of Greek history without a sense of disappointment. The spirit of Greece had travailed, and only a principality was born, which gathered within its frontiers scarcely one-third of the race, and turned for its government to a foreign administration which had no bond of tradition or affinity with the population it was to rule. And yet something had been achieved. An oasis had been wrested from the Turkish wilderness, in which Hellenism could henceforth work out its own salvation untrammelled, and extend its borders little by little, until it brought within them at last the whole of its destined heritage. The fleeting glamour of dawn had passed, but it had brought the steady light of day, in which the work begun could be carried out soberly and indefatigably to its conclusion. The new kingdom, in fact, if it fulfilled its mission, might become the political nucleus and the spiritual ensample of a permanently awakened nation--an 'education of Hellas' such as Pericles hoped to see Athens become in the greatest days of Ancient Greece. When, therefore, we turn to the history of the kingdom, our disappointment is all the more intense, for in the first fifty years of its existence there is little development to record. In 1882 King Otto's principality presented much the same melancholy spectacle as it did in 1833, when he landed in Nauplia Bay, except that Otto himself had left the scene. His Bavarian staff belonged to that reactionary generation that followed the overthrow of Napoleon in Europe, and attempted, heedless of Kapodistrias' fiasco, to impose on Greece the bureaucracy of the _ancien régime_. The Bavarians' work was entirely destructive. The local liberties which had grown up under the Ottoman dominion and been the very life of the national revival, were effectively repressed. Hydhriot and Spetziot, Suliot and Mainate, forfeited their characteristic individuality, but none of the benefits of orderly and uniform government were realized. The canker of brigandage defied all efforts to root it out, and in spite of the loans with which the royal government was supplied by the protecting powers, the public finance was subject to periodical breakdowns. In 1837 King Otto, now of age, took the government into his own hands, only to have it taken out of them again by a revolution in 1843. Thereafter he reigned as a constitutional monarch, but he never reconciled himself to the position, and in 1862 a second revolution drove him into exile, a scapegoat for the afflictions of his kingdom. Bavarian then gave place to Dane, yet the afflictions continued. In 1882 King George had been nineteen years on the throne[1] without any happier fortune than his predecessor's. It is true that the frontiers of the kingdom had been somewhat extended. Great Britain had presented the new sovereign with the Ionian Islands as an inaugural gift, and the Berlin Conference had recently added the province of Thessaly. Yet the major part of the Greek race still awaited liberation from the Turkish yoke, and regarded the national kingdom, chronically incapacitated by the twin plagues of brigandage and bankruptcy, with increasing disillusionment. The kingdom of Hellas seemed to have failed in its mission altogether. [Footnote 1: King George, like King Otto, was only seventeen years old when he received his crown.] What was the explanation of this failure? It was that the very nature of the mission paralysed the state from taking the steps essential to its accomplishment. The phenomenon has been, unhappily, only too familiar in the Nearer East, and any one who travelled in the Balkans in 1882, or even so recently as 1912, must at once have become aware of it. Until a nation has completely vindicated its right to exist, it is hard for it to settle down and make its life worth living. We nations of western Europe (before disaster fell upon us) had learnt to take our existence for granted, and 'Politics' for us had come to mean an organized effort to improve the internal economy of our community. But a foreigner who picked up a Greek newspaper would have found in it none of the matter with which he was familiar in his own, no discussion of financial policy, economic development, or social reconstruction. The news-columns would have been monopolized by foreign politics, and in the cafes he would have heard the latest oscillation in the international balance of power canvassed with the same intense and minute interest that Englishmen in a railway-carriage would have been devoting to Old Age Pensions, National Health Insurance, or Land Valuation. He would have been amazed by a display of intimate knowledge such as no British quidnunc could have mustered if he had happened to stumble across these intricacies of international competition, and the conversation would always have terminated in the same unanswered but inconscionable challenge to the future: 'When will the oppressed majority of our race escape the Turkish yoke? If the Ottoman dominion is destroyed, what redistribution of its provinces will follow? Shall we then achieve our national unity, or will our Balkan neighbours encroach upon the inheritance which is justly ours?' This preoccupation with events beyond the frontiers was not caused by any lack of vital problems within them. The army was the most conspicuous object of public activity, but it was not an aggressive speculation, or an investment of national profits deliberately calculated to bring in one day a larger return. It was a necessity of life, and its efficiency was barely maintained out of the national poverty. In fact, it was almost the only public utility with which the nation could afford to provide itself, and the traveller from Great Britain would have been amazed again at the miserable state of all reproductive public works. The railways were few and far between, their routes roundabout, and their rolling-stock scanty, so that trains were both rare and slow. Wheel-roads were no commoner a feature in Greece than railways are here, and such stretches as had been constructed had often never come into use, because they had just failed to reach their goal or were still waiting for their bridges, so that they were simply falling into decay and converting the outlay of capital upon them into a dead loss. The Peiraeus was the only port in the country where steamers could come alongside a quay, and discharge their cargoes directly on shore. Elsewhere, the vessel must anchor many cables' lengths out, and depend on the slow and expensive services of lighters, for lack of pier construction and dredging operations. For example, Kalamata, the economic outlet for the richest part of Peloponnesos, and the fifth largest port in the kingdom,[1] was and still remains a mere open roadstead, where all ships that call are kept at a distance by the silt from a mountain torrent, and so placed in imminent danger of being driven, by the first storm, upon the rocks of a neighbouring peninsula. [Footnote 1: The four chief ports being Peiraeus, Patras, Syra, and Volos.] These grave shortcomings were doubtless due in part to the geographical character of the country, though it was clear, from what had actually been accomplished, that it would have been both possible and profitable to attempt much more, if the nation's energy could have been secured for the work. But it is hard to tinker at details when you are kept in a perpetual fever by a question of life and death, and the great preliminary questions of national unity and self-government remained still unsettled. Before these supreme problems all other interests paled, for they were no will-o'-the-wisps of theoretical politics. It needs a long political education to appreciate abstract ideas, and the Greeks were still in their political infancy, but the realization of Greater Greece implied for them the satisfaction of all their concrete needs at once. So long as the _status quo_ endured, they were isolated from the rest of Europe by an unbroken band of Turkish territory, stretching from the Aegean to the Adriatic Sea. What was the use of overcoming great engineering difficulties to build a line of European gauge from Athens right up to the northern frontier, if Turkey refused to sanction the construction of the tiny section that must pass through her territory between the Greek railhead and the actual terminus of the European system at Salonika? Or if, even supposing she withdrew her veto, she would have it in her power to bring pressure on Greece at any moment by threatening to sever communications along this vital artery? So long as Turkey was there, Greece was practically an island, and her only communication with continental Europe lay through her ports. But what use to improve the ports, when the recovery of Salonika, the fairest object of the national dreams, would ultimately change the country's economic centre of gravity, and make her maritime as well as her overland commerce flow along quite other channels than the present? Thus the Greek nation's present was overshadowed by its future, and its actions paralysed by its hopes. Perhaps a nation with more power of application and less of imagination would have schooled itself to the thought that these sordid, obtrusive details were the key to the splendours of the future, and would have devoted itself to the systematic amelioration of the cramped area which it had already secured for its own. This is what Bulgaria managed to do during her short but wonderful period of internal growth between the Berlin Treaty of 1878 and the declaration of war against Turkey in 1912. But Bulgaria, thanks to her geographical situation, was from the outset freer from the tentacles of the Turkish octopus than Greece had contrived to make herself by her fifty years' start, while her temperamentally sober ambitions were not inflamed by such past traditions as Greece had inherited, not altogether to her advantage. Be that as it may, Greece, whether by fault or misfortune, had failed during this half-century to apply herself successfully to the cure of her defects and the exploitation of her assets, though she did not lack leaders strong-minded enough to summon her to the dull business of the present. Her history during the succeeding generation was a struggle between the parties of the Present and the Future, and the unceasing discomfiture of the former is typified in the tragedy of Trikoupis, the greatest modern Greek statesman before the advent of Venezelos. Trikoupis came into power in 1882, just after the acquisition of the rich agricultural province of Thessaly under the Treaty of Berlin had given the kingdom a fresh start. There were no such continuous areas of good arable land within the original frontiers, and such rare patches as there were had been desolated by those eight years of savage warfare[1] which had been the price of liberty. The population had been swept away by wholesale massacres of racial minorities in every district; the dearth of industrious hands had allowed the torrents to play havoc with the cultivation-terraces on the mountain slopes; and the spectre of malaria, always lying in wait for its opportunity, had claimed the waterlogged plains for its own. During the fifty years of stagnation little attempt had been made to cope with the evil, until now it seemed almost past remedy. [Footnote 1: 1821-28] If, however, the surface of the land offered little prospect of wealth for the moment, there were considerable treasures to be found beneath it. A metalliferous bolt runs down the whole east coast of the Greek mainland, cropping up again in many of the Aegean islands, and some of the ores, of which there is a great variety, are rare and valuable. The lack of transit facilities is partly remedied by the fact that workable veins often lie near enough to the sea for the produce to be carried straight from mine to ship, by an endless-chain system of overhead trolleys; so that, once capital is secured for installing the plant and opening the mine, profitable operations can be carried on irrespective of the general economic condition of the country. Trikoupis saw how much potential wealth was locked up in these mineral seams. The problem was how to attract the capital necessary to tap it. The nucleus round which have accumulated those immense masses of mobilised capital that are the life-blood of modern European industry and commerce, was originally derived from the surplus profits of agriculture. But a country that finds itself reduced, like Greece in the nineteenth century, to a state of agricultural bankruptcy, has obviously failed to save any surplus in the process, so that it is unable to provide from its own pocket the minimum outlay it so urgently needs in order to open for itself some new activity. If it is to obtain a fresh start on other lines, it must secure the co-operation of the foreign investor, and the capitalist with a ready market for his money will only put it into enterprises where he has some guarantee of its safety. There was little doubt that the minerals of Greece would well repay extraction; the uncertain element was the Greek nation itself. The burning question of national unity might break out at any moment into a blaze of war, and, in the probable case of disaster, involve the whole country and all interests connected with it in economic as well as political ruin. Western Europe would not commit itself to Greek mining enterprise, unless it felt confident that the statesman responsible for the government of Greece would and could restrain his country from its instinctive impulse towards political adventure. The great merit of Trikoupis was that he managed to inspire this confidence. Greece owes most of the wheelroads, railways, and mines of which she can now boast to the dozen years of his more or less consecutive administration. But the roads are unfinished, the railway-network incomplete, the mines exploited only to a fraction of their capacity, because the forces against Trikoupis were in the end too strong for him. It may be that his eye too rigidly followed the foreign investor's point of view, and that by adopting a more conciliatory attitude towards the national ideal, he might have strengthened his position at home without impairing his reputation abroad; but his position was really made impossible by a force quite beyond his control, the irresponsible and often intolerable behaviour which Turkey, under whatever régime, has always practised towards foreign powers, and especially towards those Balkan states which have won their freedom in her despite, while perforce abandoning a large proportion of their race to the protracted outrage of Turkish misgovernment. Several times over the Porte, by wanton insults to Greece, wrecked the efforts of Trikoupis to establish good relations between the two governments, and played the game of the chauvinist party led by Trikoupis' rival, Deliyannis. Deliyannis' tenures of office were always brief, but during them he contrived to undo most of the work accomplished by Trikoupis in the previous intervals. A particularly tense 'incident' with Turkey put him in power in 1893, with a strong enough backing from the country to warrant a general mobilization. The sole result was the ruin of Greek credit. Trikoupis was hastily recalled to office by the king, but too late. He found himself unable to retrieve the ruin, and retired altogether from politics in 1895, dying abroad next year in voluntary exile and enforced disillusionment. With the removal of Trikoupis from the helm, Greece ran straight upon the rocks. A disastrous war with Turkey was precipitated in 1897 by events in Krete. It brought the immediate _débâcle_ of the army and the reoccupation of Thessaly for a year by Turkish troops, while its final penalties were the cession of the chief strategical positions along the northern frontier and the imposition of an international commission of control over the Greek finances, in view of the complete national bankruptcy entailed by the war. The fifteen years that followed 1895 were almost the blackest period in modern Greek history; yet the time was not altogether lost, and such events as the draining of the Kopais-basin by a British company, and its conversion from a malarious swamp into a rich agricultural area, marked a perceptible economic advance. This comparative stagnation was broken at last by the Young Turk _pronunciamiento_ at Salonika in 1908, which produced such momentous repercussions all through the Nearer East. The Young Turks had struck in order to forestall the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire, but the opportunity was seized by every restive element within it to extricate itself, if possible, from the Turkish coils. Now, just as in 1897, Greece was directly affected by the action of the Greek population in Krete. As a result of the revolt of 1896-7, Krete had been constituted an autonomous state subject to Ottoman suzerainty, autonomy and suzerainty alike being guaranteed by four great powers. Prince George of Greece, a son of the King of the Hellenes, had been placed at the head of the autonomous government as high commissioner; but his autocratic tendency caused great discontent among the free-spirited Kretans, who had not rid themselves of the Turkish régime in order to forfeit their independence again in another fashion. Dissension culminated in 1906, when the leaders of the opposition took to the mountains, and obtained such support and success in the guerrilla fighting that followed, that they forced Prince George to tender his resignation. He was succeeded as high commissioner by Zaimis, another citizen of the Greek kingdom, who inaugurated a more constitutional régime, and in 1908 the Kretans believed that the moment for realizing the national ideal had come. They proclaimed their union with Greece, and elected deputies to the Parliament at Athens. But the guarantor powers carried out their obligations by promptly sending a combined naval expedition, which hauled down the Greek flag at Canea, and prevented the deputies from embarking for Peiraeus. This apparently pedantic insistence upon the _status quo_ was extremely exasperating to Greek nationalism. It produced a ferment in the kingdom, which grew steadily for nine months, and vented itself in July 1909 in the _coup d'état_ of the 'Military League', a second-hand imitation of the Turkish 'Committee of Union and Progress'. The royal family was cavalierly treated, and constitutional government superseded by a junta of officers. But at this point the policy of the four powers towards Krete was justified. Turkey knew well that she had lost Krete in 1897, but she could still exploit her suzerainty to prevent Greece from gaining new strength by the annexation of the island. The Young Turks had seized the reins of government, not to modify the policy of the Porte, but to intensify its chauvinism, and they accordingly intimated that they would consider any violation of their suzerain rights over Krete a _casus belli_ against Greece. Greece, without army or allies, was obviously not in a position to incur another war, and the 'Military League' thus found that it had reached the end of its tether. There ensued a deadlock of another eight months, only enlivened by a naval mutiny, during which the country lay paralysed, with no programme whatsoever before it. Then the man demanded by the situation appeared unexpectedly from the centre of disturbance, Krete. Venezelos started life as a successful advocate at Canea. He entered Kretan politics in the struggle for constitutionalism, and distinguished himself in the successful revolution of 1906, of which he was the soul. Naturally, he became one of the leading statesmen under Zaimis' régime, and he further distinguished himself by resolutely opposing the 'Unionist' agitation as premature, and yet retaining his hold over a people whose paramount political preoccupation was their national unity. The crisis of 1908-9 brought him into close relations with the government of the Greek kingdom; and the king, who had gauged his calibre, now took the patriotic step of calling in the man who had expelled his son from Krete, to put his own house in order. It speaks much for both men that they worked together in harmony from the beginning. Upon the royal invitation Venezelos exchanged Kretan for Greek citizenship, and took in hand the 'Military League'. After short negotiations, he persuaded it to dissolve in favour of a national convention, which was able to meet in March 1910. Thus Greece became a constitutional country once more, and Venezelos the first premier of the new era. During five years of continuous office he was to prove himself the good genius of his country. When he resigned his post in April 1915, he left the work of consolidating the national state on the verge of completion, and it will be his country's loss if he is baulked of achievement. Results speak for themselves, and the remainder of this pamphlet will be little more than a record of his statesmanship; but before we pass on to review his deeds, we must say a word about the character to which they are due. In March 1912 the time came for the first general election since Venezelos had taken office. Two years' experience of his administration had already won him such popularity and prestige, that the old party groups, purely personal followings infected with all the corruption, jingoism, and insincerity of the dark fifteen years, leagued themselves in a desperate effort to cast him out. Corruption on a grand scale was attempted, but Venezelos' success at the polls was sweeping. The writer happened to be spending that month in Krete. The Kretans had, of course, elected deputies in good time to the parliament at Athens, and once more the foreign warships stopped them in the act of boarding the steamer for Peiraeus, while Venezelos, who was still responsible for the Greek Government till the new parliament met, had declared with characteristic frankness that the attendance of the Kretan deputies could not possibly be sanctioned, an opening of which his opponents did not fail to take advantage. Meanwhile, every one in Krete was awaiting news of the polling in the kingdom. They might have been expected to feel, at any rate, lukewarmly towards a man who had actually taken office on the programme of deferring their cherished 'union' indefinitely; but, on the contrary, they greeted his triumph with enormous enthusiasm. Their feeling was explained by the comment of an innkeeper. 'Venezelos!' he said: 'Why, he is a man who can say "No". He won't stand any nonsense. If you try to get round him, he'll put you in irons.' And clearly he had hit the mark. Venezelos would in any case have done well, because he is a clever man with an excellent power of judgement; but acuteness is a common Greek virtue, and if he has done brilliantly, it is because he has the added touch of genius required to make the Greek take 'No' for an answer, a quality, very rare indeed in the nation, which explains the dramatic contrast between his success and Trikoupis' failure. Greece has been fortunate indeed in finding the right man at the crucial hour. In the winter of 1911-12 and the succeeding summer, the foreign traveller met innumerable results of Venezelos' activity in every part of the country, and all gave evidence of the same thing: a sane judgement and its inflexible execution. For instance, a resident in Greece had needed an escort of soldiers four years before, when he made an expedition into the wild country north-west of the Gulf of Patras, on account of the number of criminals 'wanted' by the government who were lurking in that region as outlaws. In August 1912 an inquiry concerning this danger was met with a smile: 'Oh, yes, it was so,' said the gendarme, 'but since then Venezelos has come. He amnestied every one "out" for minor offences, and then caught the "really bad ones", so there are no outlaws in Akarnania now.' And he spoke the truth. You could wander all about the forests and mountains without molestation. So far Venezelos had devoted himself to internal reconstruction, after the precedent of Trikoupis, but he was not the man to desert the national idea. The army and navy were reorganized by French and British missions, and when the opportunity appeared, he was ready to take full advantage of it. In the autumn of 1912, Turkey had been for a year at war with Italy; her finances had suffered a heavy drain, and the Italian command of the sea not only locked up her best troops in Tripoli, but interrupted such important lines of communication between her Asiatic and European provinces as the direct route by sea from Smyrna to Salonika, and the devious sea-passage thence round Greece to Scutari, which was the only alternative for Turkish troops to running the gauntlet of the Albanian mountaineers. Clearly the Balkan nations could find no better moment for striking the blow to settle that implacable 'preliminary question.' of national unity which had dogged them all since their birth. Their only chance of success, however, was to strike in concert, for Turkey, handicapped though she was, could still easily outmatch them singly. Unless they could compromise between their conflicting claims, they would have to let this common opportunity for making them good slip by altogether. Of the four states concerned, two, Serbia and Montenegro, were of the same South-Slavonic nationality, and had been drawn into complete accord with each other since the formal annexation of Bosnia by Austria-Hungary in 1908, which struck a hard blow at their common national idea, while neither of them had any conflicting claims with Greece, since the Greek and South-Slavonic nationalities are at no point geographically in contact. With Bulgaria, a nation of Slavonic speech and culture, though not wholly Slavonic in origin, Serbia had quarrelled for years over the ultimate destiny of the �sküb district in north-western Macedonia, which was still subject to Turkey; but in the summer of 1912 the two states compromised in a secret treaty upon their respective territorial ambitions, and agreed to refer the fate of one debatable strip to the arbitration of Russia, after their already projected war with Turkey had been carried through. There was a more formidable conflict of interests between Bulgaria and Greece. These two nationalities are conterminous over a very wide extent of territory, stretching from the Black Sea on the east to the inland Lake of Okhrida on the west, and there is at no point a sharp dividing line between them. The Greek element tends to predominate towards the coast and the Bulgar towards the interior, but there are broad zones where Greek and Bulgar villages are inextricably interspersed, while purely Greek towns are often isolated in the midst of purely Bulgar rural districts. Even if the racial areas could be plotted out on a large-scale map, it was clear that no political frontier could be drawn to follow their convolutions, and that Greece and Bulgaria could only divide the spoils by both making up their minds to give and take. The actual lines this necessary compromise would follow, obviously depended on the degree of the allies' success against Turkey in the common war that was yet to be fought, and Venezelos rose to the occasion. He had the courage to offer Bulgaria the Greek alliance without stipulating for any definite minimum share in the common conquests, and the tact to induce her to accept it on the same terms. Greece and Bulgaria agreed to shelve all territorial questions till the war had been brought to a successful close; and with the negotiation of this understanding (another case in which Venezelos achieved what Trikoupis had attempted only to fail) the Balkan League was complete. The events that followed are common knowledge. The Balkan allies opened the campaign in October, and the Turks collapsed before an impetuous attack. The Bulgarians crumpled up the Ottoman field armies in Thrace at the terrific battle of Lule Burgas; the Serbians disposed of the forces in the Macedonian interior, while the Greeks effected a junction with the Serbians from the south, and cut their way through to Salonika. Within two months of the declaration of war, the Turks on land had been driven out of the open altogether behind the shelter of the Chataldja and Gallipoli lines, and only three fortresses--Adrianople, Yannina, and Scutari--held out further to the west. Their navy, closely blockaded by the Greek fleet within the Dardanelles, had to look on passively at the successive occupation of the Aegean Islands by Greek landing-parties. With the winter came negotiations, during which an armistice reigned at Adrianople and Scutari, while the Greeks pursued the siege of Yannina and the Dardanelles blockade. The negotiations proved abortive, and the result of the renewed hostilities justified the action of the Balkan plenipotentiaries in breaking them off. By the spring of 1913 the three fortresses had fallen, and, under the treaty finally signed at London, Turkey ceded to the Balkan League, as a whole, all her European territories west of a line drawn from Ainos on the Aegean to Midía on the Black Sea, including Adrianople and the lower basin of the river Maritsa. The time had now come for Greece and Bulgaria to settle their account, and the unexpected extent of the common gains ought to have facilitated their division. The territory in question included the whole north coast of the Aegean and its immediate hinterland, and Venezelos proposed to consider it in two sections. (1) The eastern section, conveniently known as Thrace, consisted of the lower basin of the Maritsa. As far as Adrianople the population was Bulgar, but south of that city it was succeeded by a Greek element, with a considerable sprinkling of Turkish settlements, as far as the sea. Geographically, however, the whole district is intimately connected with Bulgaria, and the railway that follows the course of the Maritsa down to the port of Dedeagatch offers a much-needed economic outlet for large regions already within the Bulgarian frontier. Venezelos, then, was prepared to resign all Greek claims to the eastern section, in return for a corresponding concession by Bulgaria in the west. (2) The western section, consisting of the lower basins of the Vardar and Struma, lay in the immediate neighbourhood of the former frontier of Greece; but the Greek population of Salonika,[1] and the coast-districts east of it, could not be brought within the Greek frontier without including as well a certain hinterland inhabited mainly by Bulgarians. The cession of this was the return asked for by Venezelos, and he reduced it to a minimum by abstaining from pressing the quite well-founded claims of Greece in the Monastir district, which lay further inland still. [Footnote 1: The predominant element within the walls of Salonika itself is neither Greek nor Bulgarian, but consists of about 80,000 of those Spanish-speaking Jews who settled in Turkey as refugees during the sixteenth century.] But Venezelos' conciliatory proposals met with no response from the Bulgarian Government, which was in an 'all or nothing' mood. It swallowed Venezelos' gift of Thrace, and then proceeded to exploit the Bulgar hinterland of Salonika as a pretext for demanding the latter city as well. This uncompromising attitude made agreement impossible, and it was aggravated by the aggressive action of the Bulgarian troops in the occupied territory, who persistently endeavoured to steal ground from the Greek forces facing them. In May there was serious fighting to the east of the Struma, and peace was only restored with difficulty. Bulgarian relations with Serbia were becoming strained at the same time, though in this case Bulgaria had more justice on her side. Serbia maintained that the veto imposed by Austria upon her expansion to the Adriatic, in coincidence with Bulgaria's unexpected gains on the Maritsa to which Serbian arms had contributed, invalidated the secret treaty of the previous summer, and she announced her intention of retaining the Monastir district and the line of the Salonika railway as far as the future frontier of Greece. Bulgaria, on the other hand, shut her eyes to Serbia's necessity for an untrammelled economic outlet to one sea-board or the other, and took her stand on her strictly legal treaty-rights. However the balance of justice inclined, a lasting settlement could only have been reached by mutual forbearance and goodwill; but Bulgaria put herself hopelessly in the wrong towards both her allies by a treacherous night-attack upon them all along the line, at the end of June 1913. This disastrous act was the work of a single political party, which has since been condemned by most sections of Bulgarian public opinion; but the punishment, if not the responsibility for the crime, fell upon the whole nation. Greece and Serbia had already been drawn into an understanding by their common danger. They now declared war against Bulgaria in concert. The counter-strokes of their armies met with success, and the intervention of Rumania made Bulgaria's discomfiture certain. The results of the one month's war were registered in the Treaty of Bucarest. Many of its provisions were unhappily, though naturally, inspired by the spirit of revenge; but the Greek premier, at any rate, showed a statesmanlike self-restraint in the negotiations. Venezelos advocated the course of taking no more after the war than had been demanded before it. He desired to leave Bulgaria a broad zone of Aegean littoral between the Struma and Maritsa rivers, including ports capable of satisfying Bulgaria's pressing need for an outlet towards the south. But, in the exasperated state of public feeling, even Venezelos' prestige failed to carry through his policy in its full moderation. King George had just been assassinated in his year of jubilee, in the streets of the long-desired Salonika; and King Constantine, his son, flushed by the victory of Kilkish and encouraged by the Machiavellian diplomacy of his Hohenzollern brother-in-law, insisted on carrying the new Greek frontier as far east as the river Mesta, and depriving Bulgaria of Kavala, the natural harbour for the whole Bulgarian hinterland in the upper basins of the Mesta and Struma. It is true that Greece did not exact as much as she might have done. Bulgaria was still allowed to possess herself of a coastal strip east of the Mesta, containing the tolerable harbours of Porto Lagos and Dedeagatch, which had been occupied during hostilities by the Greek fleet, and thus her need for an Aegean outlet was not left unsatisfied altogether; while Greece on her part was cleverly shielded for the future from those drawbacks involved in immediate contact with Turkish territory, which she had so often experienced in the past. It is also true that the Kavala district is of great economic value in itself--it produces the better part of the Turkish Régie tobacco crop--and that on grounds of nationality alone Bulgaria has no claim to this prize, since the tobacco-growing peasantry is almost exclusively Greek or Turk, while the Greek element has been extensively reinforced during the last two years by refugees from Anatolia and Thrace. Nevertheless, it is already clear that Venezelos' judgement was the better. The settlement at the close of the present war may even yet bring Bulgaria reparation in many quarters. If the Ruman and South Slavonic populations at present included in the complexus of Austria-Hungary are freed from their imprisonment and united with the Serbian and Rumanian national states, Bulgaria may conceivably recover from the latter those Bulgarian lands which the Treaty of Bucarest made over to them in central Macedonia and the Dobrudja, while it would be still more feasible to oust the Turk again from Adrianople, where he slipped back in the hour of Bulgaria's prostration and has succeeded in maintaining himself ever since. Yet no amount of compensation in other directions and no abstract consideration for the national principle will induce Bulgaria to renounce her claim on Greek Kavala. Access to this district is vital to Bulgaria from the geographical point of view, and she will not be satisfied here with such rights as Serbia enjoys at Salonika--free use of the port and free traffic along a railway connecting it with her own hinterland. Her heart is set on complete territorial ownership, and she will not compose her feud with Greece until she has had her way. So long, therefore, as the question of Kavala remains unsettled, Greece will not be able to put the preliminary problem of 'national consolidation' behind her, and enter upon the long-deferred chapter of 'internal development'. To accomplish once for all this vital transition, Venezelos is taking the helm again into his hands, and it is his evident intention to close the Greek account with Bulgaria just as Serbia and Rumania hope to close theirs with the same state--by a bold territorial concession conditional upon adequate territorial compensation elsewhere.[1] [Footnote 1: The above paragraph betrays its own date; for, since it was written, the intervention of Bulgaria on the side of the Central Powers has deferred indefinitely the hope of a settlement based upon mutual agreement.] The possibility of such compensation is offered by certain outstanding problems directly dependent upon the issue of the European conflict, and we must glance briefly at these before passing on to consider the new chapter of internal history that is opening for the Greek nation. The problems in question are principally concerned with the ownership of islands. The integrity of a land-frontier is guaranteed by the whole strength of the nation included within it, and can only be modified by a struggle for existence with the neighbor on whom it borders; but islands by their geographical nature constitute independent political units, easily detached from or incorporated with larger domains, according to the momentary fluctuation in the balance of sea-power. Thus it happened that the arrival of the _Goeben_ and _Breslau_ at the Dardanelles in August 1914 led Turkey to reopen promptly certain questions concerning the Aegean. The islands in this sea are uniformly Greek in population, but their respective geographical positions and political fortunes differentiate them into several groups. 1. The Cyclades in the south-west, half submerged vanguards of mountain ranges in continental Greece, have formed part of the modern kingdom from its birth, and their status has never since been called into question. 2. Krete, the largest of all Greek islands, has been dealt with already. She enjoyed autonomy under Turkish suzerainty for fifteen years before the Balkan War, and at its outbreak she once more proclaimed her union with Greece. This time at last her action was legalized, when Turkey expressly abandoned her suzerain rights by a clause in the Treaty of London. 3. During the war itself, the Greek navy occupied a number of islands which had remained till then under the more direct government of Turkey, The parties to the Treaty of London agreed to leave their destiny to the decision of the powers, and the latter assigned them all to Greece, with the exception of Imbros and Tenedos which command strategically the mouth of the Dardanelles. The islands thus secured to Greece fall in turn into several sub-groups. Two of these are _(a)_ Thasos, Samothraki, and Lemnos, off the European coast, and _(b)_ Samos and its satellite Nikarià, immediately off the west coast of Anatolia; and these five islands seem definitely to have been given up by Turkey for lost. The European group is well beyond the range of her present frontiers; while Samos, though it adjoins the Turkish mainland, does not mask the outlet from any considerable port, and had moreover for many years possessed the same privileged autonomy as Krete, so that the Ottoman Government did not acutely feel its final severance. _(c)_ A third group consists of Mitylini and Khios,[1] and concerning this pair Greece and Turkey have so far come to no understanding. The Turks pointed out that the littoral off which these islands lie contains not only the most indispensable ports of Anatolia but also the largest enclaves of Greek population on the Asiatic mainland, and they declared that the occupation of this group by Greece menaced the sovereignty of the Porte in its home territory. 'See', they said, 'how the two islands flank both sides of the sea-passage to Smyrna, the terminus of all the railways which penetrate the Anatolian interior, while Mitylini barricades Aivali and Edremid as well. As soon as the Greek Government has converted the harbours of these islands into naval bases, Anatolia will be subject to a perpetual Greek blockade, and this violent intimidation of the Turkish people will be reinforced by an insidious propaganda among the disloyal Greek elements in our midst.' Accordingly the Turks refused to recognize the award of the powers, and demanded the re-establishment of Ottoman sovereignty in Mitylini and Khios, under guarantee of an autonomy after the precedent of Krete and Samos. [Footnote 1: Including its famous satellite Psarà.] To these arguments and demands the Greeks replied that, next to Krete; these are the two largest, most wealthy, and most populous Greek islands in the Aegean; that their inhabitants ardently desire union with the national kingdom; and that the Greek Government would hesitate to use them as a basis for economic coercion and nationalistic propaganda against Turkey, if only because the commerce of western Anatolia is almost exclusively in the hands of the Greek element on the Asiatic continent. Greek interests were presumably bound up with the economic prosperity and political consolidation of Turkey in Asia, and the Anatolian Greeks would merely have been alienated from their compatriots by any such impolitic machinations. 'Greek sovereignty in Mitylini and Khios', the Greeks maintained, 'does not threaten Turkish sovereignty on the Continent. But the restoration of Turkish suzerainty over the islands would most seriously endanger the liberty of their inhabitants; for Turkish promises are notoriously valueless, except when they are endorsed by the guarantee of some physically stronger power.' Negotiations were conducted between Greece and Turkey from these respective points of view without leading to any result, and the two standpoints were in fact irreconcilable, since either power required the other to leave vital national interests at the mercy of an ancient enemy, without undertaking to make corresponding sacrifices itself. The problem probably would never have been solved by compromise; but meanwhile the situation has been entirely transformed by the participation of Turkey in the European War, and the issue between Greece and Turkey, like the issue between Greece and Bulgaria, has been merged in the general problem of the European settlement. The Balkan War of 1912 doomed the Ottoman power in Europe, but left its Asiatic future unimpaired. By making war against the Quadruple Entente, Turkey has staked her existence on both continents, and is threatened with political extinction if the Central Powers succumb in the struggle. In this event Greece will no longer have to accommodate her régime in the liberated islands to the susceptibilities of a Turkey consolidated on the opposite mainland, but will be able to stretch out her hand over the Anatolian coast and its hinterland, and compensate herself richly in this quarter for the territorial sacrifices which may still be necessary to a lasting understanding with her Bulgarian neighbour. The shores that dominate the Dardanelles will naturally remain beyond her grasp, but she may expect to establish herself on the western littoral from a point as far north as Mount Ida and the plain of Edremid. The Greek coast-town of Aivali will be hers, and the still more important focus of Greek commerce and civilization at Smyrna; while she will push her dominion along the railways that radiate from Smyrna towards the interior. South-eastward, Aidin will be hers in the valley of the Mendere (Maiandros). Due eastward she will re-baptize the glistening city of Ala Shehr with its ancient name of Philadelphia, under which it held out heroically for Hellenism many years after Aidin had become the capital of a Moslem principality and the Turkish avalanche had rolled past it to the sea. Maybe she will follow the railway still further inland, and plant her flag on the Black Castle of Afiun, the natural railway-centre of Anatolia high up on the innermost plateau. All this and more was once Hellenic ground, and the Turkish incomer, for all his vitality, has never been able here to obliterate the older culture or assimilate the earlier population. In this western region Turkish villages are still interspersed with Greek, and under the government of compatriots the unconquerable minority would inevitably reassert itself by the peaceful weapons of its superior energy and intelligence. 4. If Greece realizes these aspirations through Venezelos' statesmanship, she will have settled in conjunction her outstanding accounts with both Bulgaria and Turkey; but a fourth group of islands still remains for consideration, and these, though formerly the property of Turkey, are now in the hands of other European powers. _(a)_ The first of those in question are the Sporades, a chain of islands off the Anatolian coast which continues the line of Mitylini, Khios, and Samos towards the south-east, and includes Kos, Patmos, Astypalià, Karpathos, Kasos, and, above all, Rhodes. The Sporades were occupied by Italy during her war with Turkey in 1911-12, and she stipulated in the Peace of Lausanne that she should retain them as a pledge until the last Ottoman soldier in Tripoli had been withdrawn, after which she would make them over again to the Porte. The continued unrest in Tripoli may or may not have been due to Turkish intrigues, but in any case it deferred the evacuation of the islands by Italy until the situation was transformed here also by the successive intervention of both powers in the European War. The consequent lapse of the Treaty of Lausanne simplifies the status of the Sporades, but it is doubtful what effect it will have upon their destiny. In language and political sympathy their inhabitants are as completely Greek as all the other islanders of the Aegean, and if the Quadruple Entente has made the principle of nationality its own, Italy is morally bound, now that the Sporades are at her free disposal, to satisfy their national aspirations by consenting to their union with the kingdom of Greece. On the other hand, the prospective dissolution of the Ottoman Empire has increased Italy's stake in this quarter. In the event of a partition, the whole southern littoral of Anatolia will probably fall within the Italian sphere, which will start from the Gulf of Iskanderun, include the districts of Adana and Adalia, and march with the new Anatolian provinces of Greece along the line of the river Mendere. This continental domain and the adjacent islands are geographically complementary to one another, and it is possible that Italy may for strategical reasons insist on retaining the Sporades in perpetuity if she realizes her ambitions on the continent. This solution would be less ideal than the other, but Greece would be wise to reconcile herself to it, as Italy has reconciled herself to the incorporation of Corsica in France; for by submitting frankly to this detraction from her national unity she would give her brethren in the Sporades the best opportunity of developing their national individuality untrammelled under a friendly Italian suzerainty. _(b)_ The advance-guard of the Greek race that inhabits the great island of Cyprus has been subject to British government since 1878, when the provisional occupation of the island by Great Britain under a contract similar to that of Lausanne was negotiated in a secret agreement between Great Britain and Turkey on the eve of the Conference at Berlin. The condition of evacuation was in this case the withdrawal of Russia from Kars, and here likewise it never became operative till it was abrogated by the outbreak of war. Cyprus, like the Sporades, is now at the disposal of its _de facto_ possessor, and on November 5, 1914, it was annexed to the British Empire. But whatever decision Italy may take, it is to be hoped that our own government at any rate will not be influenced exclusively by strategical considerations, but will proclaim an intention of allowing Cyprus ultimately to realize its national aspirations by union with Greece.[1] [Footnote 1: Since the above was written, this intention, under a certain condition, has definitely been expressed.] The whole population of the island is Greek in language, while under an excellent British administration its political consciousness has been awakened, and has expressed itself in a growing desire for national unity among the Christian majority. It is true that in Cyprus, as in Krete, there is a considerable Greek-speaking minority of Moslems[1] who prefer the _status quo_; but, since the barrier of language is absent, their antipathy to union may not prove permanent. However important the retention of Cyprus may be to Great Britain from the strategical point of view, we shall find that even in the balance of material interests it is not worth the price of alienating the sympathy of an awakened and otherwise consolidated nation. [Footnote 1: In Cyprus about 22 per cent.] This rather detailed review of problems in the islands and Anatolia brings out the fact that Greek nationalism is not an artificial conception of theorists, but a real force which impels the most scattered and down-trodden populations of Greek speech to travail unceasingly for political unity within the national state. Yet by far the most striking example of this attractive power in Hellenism is the history of it in 'Epirus'.[1] [Footnote 1: The name coined to include the districts of Himarra, Argyrokastro, and Koritsà.] The Epirots are a population of Albanian race, and they still speak an Albanian dialect in their homes; while the women and children, at any rate, often know no other language. But somewhat over a century ago the political organism created by the remarkable personality of Ali Pasha in the hinterland of the Adriatic coast, and the relations of Great Britain and France with this new principality in the course of their struggle for the Mediterranean, began to awaken in the Epirots a desire for civilization. Their Albanian origin opened to them no prospects, for the race had neither a literature nor a common historical tradition; and they accordingly turned to the Greeks, with whom they were linked in religion by membership of the Orthodox Church, and in politics by subjection to Ali's Government at Yannina, which had adopted Greek as its official language. They had appealed to the right quarter; for we have seen how Greek culture accumulated a store of latent energy under the Turkish yoke, and was expending it at this very period in a vigorous national revival. The partially successful War of Liberation in the 'twenties of the nineteenth century was only the political manifestation of the new life. It has expressed itself more typically in a steady and universal enthusiasm for education, which throughout the subsequent generations of political stagnation has always opened to individual Greeks commercial and professional careers of the greatest brilliance, and often led them to spend the fortunes so acquired in endowing the nation with further educational opportunities. Public spirit is a Greek virtue. There are few villages which do not possess monuments of their successful sons, and a school is an even commoner gift than a church; while the State has supplemented the individual benefactor to an extent remarkable where public resources are so slender. The school-house, in fact, is generally the most prominent and substantial building in a Greek village, and the advantage offered to the Epirots by a _rapprochement_ with the Greeks is concretely symbolized by the Greek schools established to-day in generous numbers throughout their country. For the Epirot boy the school is the door to the future. The language he learns there makes him the member of a nation, and opens to him a world wide enough to employ all the talent and energy he may possess, if he seeks his fortune at Patras or Peiraeus, or in the great Greek commercial communities of Alexandria and Constantinople; while, if he stays at home, it still affords him a link with the life of civilized Europe through the medium of the ubiquitous Greek newspaper.[1] The Epirot has thus become Greek in soul, for he has reached the conception of a national life more liberal than the isolated existence of his native village through the avenue of Greek culture. 'Hellenism' and nationality have become for him identical ideas; and when at last the hour of deliverance struck, he welcomed the Greek armies that marched into his country from the south and the east, after the fall of Yannina in the spring of 1913, with the same enthusiasm with which all the enslaved populations of native Greek dialect greeted the consummation of a century's hopes. [Footnote 1: There is still practically no literature printed in the Albanian language.] The Greek troops arrived only just in time, for the 'Hellenism' of the Epirots had been terribly proved by murderous attacks from their Moslem neighbours on the north. The latter speak a variety of the same Albanian tongue, but were differentiated by a creed which assimilated them to the ruling race. They had been superior to their Christian kinsmen by the weight of numbers and the possession of arms, which under the Ottoman régime were the monopoly of the Moslem. At last, however, the yoke of oppression was broken and the Greek occupation seemed a harbinger of security for the future. Unluckily, however, Epirus was of interest to others besides its own inhabitants. It occupies an important geographical position facing the extreme heel of Italy, just below the narrowest point in the neck of the Adriatic, and the Italian Government insisted that the country should be included in the newly erected principality of Albania, which the powers had reserved the right to delimit in concert by a provision in the Treaty of London. Italy gave two reasons for her demand. First, she declared it incompatible with her own vital interests that both shores of the strait between Corfù and the mainland should pass into the hands of the same power, because the combination of both coasts and the channel between them offered a site for a naval base that might dominate the mouth of the Adriatic. Secondly, she maintained that the native Albanian speech of the Epirots proved their Albanian nationality, and that it was unjust to the new Albanian state to exclude from it the most prosperous and civilized branch of the Albanian nation. Neither argument is cogent. The first argument could easily be met by the neutralization of the Corfù straits,[1] and it is also considerably weakened by the fact that the position which really commands the mouth of the Adriatic from the eastern side is not the Corfù channel beyond it but the magnificent bay of Avlona just within its narrowest section, and this is a Moslem district to which the Epirots have never laid claim, and which would therefore in any case fall within the Albanian frontier. The second argument is almost ludicrous. The destiny of Epirus is not primarily the concern of the other Albanians, of for that matter of the Greeks, but of the Epirots themselves, and it is hard to see how their nationality can be defined except in terms of their own conscious and expressed desire; for a nation is simply a group of men inspired by a common will to co-operate for certain purposes, and cannot be brought into existence by the external manipulation of any specific objective factors, but solely by the inward subjective impulse of its constituents. It was a travesty of justice to put the Orthodox Epirots at the mercy of a Moslem majority (which had been massacring them the year before) on the ground that they happened to speak the same language. The hardship was aggravated by the fact that all the routes connecting Epirus with the outer world run through Yannina and Salonika, from which the new frontier sundered her; while great natural barriers separate her from Avlona and Durazzo, with which the same frontier so ironically signalled her union. [Footnote 1: Corfù itself is neutralized already by the agreement under which Great Britain transferred the Ionian Islands to Greece in 1863.] The award of the powers roused great indignation in Greece, but Venezelos was strong enough to secure that it should scrupulously be respected; and the 'correct attitude' which he inflexibly maintained has finally won its reward. As soon as the decision of the powers was announced, the Epirots determined to help themselves. They raised a militia, and asserted their independence so successfully, that they compelled the Prince of Wied, the first (and perhaps the last) ruler of the new 'Albania', to give them home rule in matters of police and education, and to recognise Greek as the official language for their local administration. They ensured observance of this compact by the maintenance of their troops under arms. So matters continued, until a rebellion among his Moslem subjects and the outbreak of the European War in the summer of 1914 obliged the prince to depart, leaving Albania to its natural state of anarchy. The anarchy might have restored every canton and village to the old state of contented isolation, had it not been for the religious hatred between the Moslems and the Epirots, which, with the removal of all external control, began to vent itself in an aggressive assault of the former upon the latter, and entailed much needless misery in the autumn months. The reoccupation of Epirus by Greek troops had now become a matter of life and death to its inhabitants, and in October 1914 Venezelos took the inevitable step, after serving due notice upon all the signatories to the Treaty of London. Thanks in part to the absorption of the powers in more momentous business, but perhaps even in a greater degree to the confidence which the Greek premier had justly won by his previous handling of the question, this action was accomplished without protest or opposition. Since then Epirus has remained sheltered from the vicissitudes of civil war within and punitive expeditions from without, to which the unhappy remnant of Albania has been incessantly exposed; and we may prophesy that the Epiroi, unlike their repudiated brethren of Moslem or Catholic faith, have really seen the last of their troubles. Even Italy, from whom they had most to fear, has obtained such a satisfactory material guarantee by the occupation on her own part of Avlona, that she is as unlikely to demand the evacuation of Epirus by Greece as she is to withdraw her own force from her long coveted strategical base on the eastern shore of the Adriatic. In Avlona and Epirus the former rivals are settling down to a neighbourly contact, and there is no reason to doubt that the _de facto_ line of demarcation between them will develop into a permanent and officially recognized frontier. The problem of Epirus, though not, unfortunately, that of Albania, may be regarded as definitely closed. The reclamation of Epirus is perhaps the most honourable achievement of the Greek national revival, but it is by no means an isolated phenomenon. Western Europe is apt to depreciate modern 'Hellenism', chiefly because its ambitious denomination rather ludicrously challenges comparison with a vanished glory, while any one who has studied its rise must perceive that it has little more claim than western Europe itself to be the peculiar heir of ancient Greek culture. And yet this Hellenism of recent growth has a genuine vitality of its own. It displays a remarkable power of assimilating alien elements and inspiring them to an active pursuit of its ideals, and its allegiance supplants all others in the hearts of those exposed to its charm. The Epirots are not the only Albanians who have been Hellenized. In the heart of central Greece and Peloponnesus, on the plain of Argos, and in the suburbs of Athens, there are still Albanian enclaves, derived from those successive migrations between the fourteenth and the eighteenth centuries; but they have so entirely forgotten their origin that the villagers, when questioned, can only repeat: 'We can't say why we happen to speak "Arvanitikà", but we are Greeks like everybody else.' The Vlachs again, a Romance-speaking tribe of nomadic shepherds who have wandered as far south as Akarnania and the shores of the Korinthian Gulf, are settling down there to the agricultural life of the Greek village, so that Hellenism stands to them for the transition to a higher social phase. Their still migratory brethren in the northern ranges of Pindus are already 'Hellenes' in political sympathy,[1] and are moving under Greek influence towards the same social evolution. In distant Cappadocia, at the root of the Anatolian peninsula, the Orthodox Greek population, submerged beneath the Turkish flood more than eight centuries ago, has retained little individuality except in its religion, and nothing of its native speech but a garbled vocabulary embedded in a Turkified syntax. Yet even this dwindling rear-guard has been overtaken just in time by the returning current of national life, bringing with it the Greek school, and with the school a community of outlook with Hellenism the world over. Whatever the fate of eastern Anatolia may be, the Greek element is now assured a prominent part in its future. [Footnote 1: Greece owed her naval supremacy in 1912-13 to the new cruiser _Georgios Averof_, named after a Vlach millionaire who made his fortune in the Greek colony at Alexandria and left a legacy for the ship's construction at his death.] These, moreover, are the peripheries of the Greek world; and at its centre the impulse towards union in the national state readies a passionate intensity. 'Aren't you better off as you are?' travellers used to ask in Krete during the era of autonomy. 'If you get your "Union", you will have to do two years' military service instead of one year's training in the militia, and will be taxed up to half as much again.' 'We have thought of that,' the Kretans would reply, 'but what does it matter, if we are united with Greece?' On this unity modern Hellenism has concentrated its efforts, and after nearly a century of ineffective endeavour it has been brought by the statesmanship of Venezelos within sight of its goal. Our review of outstanding problems reveals indeed the inconclusiveness of the settlement imposed at Bucarest; but this only witnesses to the wisdom of the Greek nation in reaffirming its confidence in Venezelos at the present juncture, and recalling him to power to crown the work which he has so brilliantly carried through. Under Venezelos' guidance we cannot doubt that the heart's desire of Hellenism will be accomplished at the impending European settlement by the final consolidation of the Hellenic national state.[1] [Footnote 1: This paragraph, again, has been superseded by the dramatic turn of events; but the writer has left it unaltered, for the end is not yet.] Yet however attractive the sincerity of such nationalism may be, political unity is only a negative achievement. The history of a nation must be judged rather by the positive content of its ideals and the positive results which it attains, and herein the Hellenic revival displays certain grave shortcomings. The internal paralysis of social and economic life has already been noted and ascribed to the urgency of the 'preliminary question'; but we must now add to this the growing embitterment which has poisoned the relations of Greece with her Balkan neighbours during the crises through which the 'preliminary question' has been worked out to its solution. Now that this solution is at hand, will Hellenism prove capable of casting out these two evils, and adapt itself with strength renewed to the new phase of development that lies before it? The northern territories acquired in 1913 will give a much greater impetus to economic progress than Thessaly gave a generation ago; for the Macedonian littoral west as well as east of the Struma produces a considerable proportion of the Turkish Régie tobacco, while the pine-forests of Pindus, if judiciously exploited, will go far to remedy the present deficiency of home-grown timber, even if they do not provide quantities sufficient for export abroad. If we take into account the currant-crop of the Peloponnesian plain-lands which already almost monopolizes the world-market, the rare ores of the south-eastern mountains and the Archipelago, and the vintages which scientific treatment might bring into competition with the wines of the Peninsula and France, we can see that Greece has many sources of material prosperity within her reach, if only she applies her liberated energy to their development. Yet these are all of them specialized products, and Greece will never export any staple commodity to rival the grain which Rumania sends in such quantities to central Europe already, and which Bulgaria will begin to send within a few years' time. Even the consolidated Greek kingdom will be too small in area and too little compact in geographical outline to constitute an independent economic unit, and the ultimate economic interests of the country demand co-operation in some organization more comprehensive than the political molecule of the national state. Such an association should embrace the Balkans in their widest extent-- from the Black Sea to the Adriatic and from the Carpathians to the Aegean; for, in sharp contrast to the inextricable chaos of its linguistic and ecclesiastical divisions, the region constitutes economically a homogeneous and indivisible whole, in which none of the parts can divest themselves of their mutual interdependence. Greece, for example, has secured at last her direct link with the railway system of the European continent, but for free transit beyond her own frontier she still depends on Serbia's good-will, just, as Serbia depends on hers for an outlet to the Aegean at Salonika. The two states have provided for their respective interests by a joint proprietorship of the section of railway between Salonika and Belgrade; and similar railway problems will doubtless bring Rumania to terms with Serbia for access to the Adriatic, and both with Bulgaria for rights of way to Constantinople and the Anatolian hinterland beyond. These common commercial arteries of the Balkans take no account of racial or political frontiers, but link the region as a whole with other regions in a common economic relation. South-eastern and central Europe are complementary economic areas in a special degree. The industries of central Europe will draw upon the raw products of the south-east to an increasing extent, and the south-east will absorb in turn increasing quantities of manufactured plant from central Europe for the development of its own natural resources. The two areas will become parties in a vast economic nexus, and, as in all business transactions, each will try to get the best of the continually intensified bargaining. This is why co-operation is so essential to the future well-being of the Balkan States. Isolated individually and mutually competitive as they are at present, they must succumb to the economic ascendancy of Vienna and Berlin as inevitably as unorganized, unskilled labourers fall under the thraldom of a well-equipped capitalist. Central Europe will have in any event an enormous initial superiority over the Balkans in wealth, population, and business experience; and the Balkan peoples can only hope to hold their own in this perilous but essential intercourse with a stronger neighbour, if they take more active and deliberate steps towards co-operation among themselves, and find in railway conventions the basis for a Balkan zollverein. A zollverein should be the first goal of Balkan statesmanship in the new phase of history that is opening for Europe; but economic relations on this scale involve the political factor, and the Balkans will not be able to deal with their great neighbours on equal terms till the zollverein has ripened into a federation. The alternative is subjection, both political and economic; and neither the exhaustion of the Central Powers in the present struggle nor the individual consolidation of the Balkan States in the subsequent settlement will suffice by themselves to avert it in the end. The awakening of the nation and the consolidation of the state, which we have traced in these pages, must accordingly lead on to the confederation of the Balkans, if all that has been so painfully won is not to perish again without result; and we are confronted with the question: Will Balkan nationalism rise to the occasion and transcend itself? Many spectators of recent history will dismiss the suggestion as Utopian. 'Nationality', they will say, 'revealed itself first as a constructive force, and Europe staked its future upon it; but now that we are committed to it, it has developed a sinister destructiveness which we cannot remedy. Nationality brought the Balkan States into being and led them to final victory over the Turk in 1912, only to set them tearing one another to pieces again in 1913. In the present catastrophe the curse of the Balkans has descended upon the whole of Europe, and laid bare unsuspected depths of chaotic hatred; yet Balkan antagonisms still remain more ineradicable than ours. The cure for nationality is forgetfulness, but Balkan nationalism is rooted altogether in the past. The Balkan peoples have suffered one shattering experience in common--the Turk, and the waters of Ottoman oppression that have gone over their souls have not been waters of Lethe. They have endured long centuries of spiritual exile by the passionate remembrance of their Sion, and when they have vindicated their heritage at last, and returned to build up the walls of their city and the temple of their national god, they have resented each other's neighbourhood as the repatriated Jew resented the Samaritan. The Greek dreams with sullen intensity of a golden age before the Bulgar was found in the land, and the challenge implied in the revival of the Hellenic name, so far from being a superficial vanity, is the dominant characteristic of the nationalism which has adopted it for its title. Modern Hellenism breathes the inconscionable spirit of the _émigré_.' This is only too true. The faith that has carried them to national unity will suffice neither the Greeks nor any other Balkan people for the new era that has dawned upon them, and the future would look dark indeed, but for a strange and incalculable leaven, which is already potently at work in the land. Since the opening of the present century, the chaotic, unneighbourly races of south-eastern Europe, whom nothing had united before but the common impress of the Turk, have begun to share another experience in common-- America. From the Slovak villages in the Carpathians to the Greek villages in the Laconian hills they have been crossing the Atlantic in their thousands, to become dockers and navvies, boot-blacks and waiters, confectioners and barbers in Chicago, St. Louis, Omaha, and all the other cities that have sprung up like magic to welcome the immigrant to the hospitable plains of the Middle West. The intoxication of his new environment stimulates all the latent industry and vitality of the Balkan peasant, and he abandons himself whole-heartedly to American life; yet he does not relinquish the national tradition in which he grew up. In America work brings wealth, and the Greek or Slovak soon worships his God in a finer church and reads his language in a better-printed newspaper than he ever enjoyed in his native village. The surplus flows home in remittances of such abundance that they are steadily raising the cost of living in the Balkans themselves, or, in other words, the standard of material civilization; and sooner or later the immigrant goes the way of his money orders, for home-sickness, if not a mobilization order, exerts its compulsion before half a dozen years are out. It is a strange experience to spend a night in some remote mountain-village of Greece, and see Americanism and Hellenism face to face. Hellenism is represented by the village schoolmaster. He wears a black coat, talks a little French, and can probably read Homer; but his longest journey has been to the normal school at Athens, and it has not altered his belief that the ikon in the neighbouring monastery was made by St. Luke and the Bulgar beyond the mountains by the Devil. On the other side of you sits the returned emigrant, chattering irrepressibly in his queer version of the 'American language', and showing you the newspapers which are mailed to him every fortnight from the States. His clean linen collar and his well-made American boots are conspicuous upon him, and he will deprecate on your behalf and his own the discomfort and squalor of his native surroundings. His home-coming has been a disillusionment, but it is a creative phenomenon; and if any one can set Greece upon a new path it is he. He is transforming her material life by his American savings, for they are accumulating into a capital widely distributed in native hands, which will dispense the nation from pawning its richest mines and vineyards to the European exploiter, and enable it to carry on their development on its own account at this critical juncture when European sources of capital are cut off for an indefinite period by the disaster of the European War. The emigrant will give Greece all Trikoupis dreamed of, but his greatest gift to his country will be his American point of view. In the West he has learnt that men of every language and religion can live in the same city and work at the same shops and sheds and mills and switch-yards without desecrating each other's churches or even suppressing each other's newspapers, not to speak of cutting each other's throats; and when next he meets Albanian or Bulgar on Balkan ground, he may remember that he has once dwelt with him in fraternity at Omaha or St. Louis or Chicago. This is the gospel of Americanism, and unlike Hellenism, which spread downwards from the patriarch's residence and the merchant's counting-house, it is being preached in all the villages of the land by the least prejudiced and most enterprising of their sons (for it is these who answer America's call); and spreading upward from the peasant towards the professor in the university and the politician in parliament. Will this new leaven conquer, and cast out the stale leaven of Hellenism before it sours the loaf? Common sense is mighty, but whether it shall prevail in Greece and the Balkans and Europe lies on the knees of the gods. RUMANIA: HER HISTORY AND POLITICS 1 _Introduction_ The problem of the origin and formation of the Rumanian nation has always provided matter for keen disputation among historians, and the theories which have been advanced are widely divergent. Some of these discussions have been undertaken solely for political reasons, and in such cases existing data prove conveniently adaptable. This elastic treatment of the historical data is facilitated by the fact that a long and important period affecting the formation and the development of the Rumanian nation (270-1220) has bequeathed practically no contemporary evidence. By linking up, however, what is known antecedent to that period with the precise data available regarding the following it, and by checking the inferred results with what little evidence exists respecting the obscure epoch of Rumanian history, it has been possible to reconstruct, almost to a certainty, the evolution of the Rumanians during the Middle Ages. A discussion of the varying theories would be out of proportion, and out of place, in this essay. Nor is it possible to give to any extent a detailed description of the epic struggle which the Rumanians carried on for centuries against the Turks. I shall have to deal, therefore, on broad lines, with the historical facts--laying greater stress only upon the three fundamental epochs of Rumanian history: the formation of the Rumanian nation; its initial casting into a national polity (foundation of the Rumanian principalities); and its final evolution into the actual unitary State; and shall then pass on to consider the more recent internal and external development of Rumania, and her present attitude. 2 _Formation of the Rumanian Nation_ About the fifth century B.C., when the population of the Balkan-Carpathian region consisted of various tribes belonging to the Indo-European family, the northern portion of the Balkan peninsula was conquered by the Thracians and the Illyrians. The Thracians spread north and south, and a branch of their race, the Dacians, crossed the Danube. The latter established themselves on both sides of the Carpathian ranges, in the region which now comprises the provinces of Oltenia (Rumania), and Banat and Transylvania (Hungary). The Dacian Empire expanded till its boundaries touched upon those of the Roman Empire. The Roman province of Moesia (between the Danube and the Balkans) fell before its armies, and the campaign that ensued was so successful that the Dacians were able to compel Rome to an alliance. Two expeditions undertaken against Dacia by the Emperor Trajan (98-117) released Rome from these ignominious obligations, and brought Dacia under Roman rule (A.D. 106). Before his second expedition Trajan erected a stone bridge over the Danube, the remains of which can still be seen at Turnu-Severin, a short distance below the point where the Danube enters Rumanian territory. Trajan celebrated his victory by erecting at Adam Klissi (in the province of Dobrogea) the recently discovered _Tropaeum Traiani_, and in Rome the celebrated 'Trajan's Column', depicting in marble reliefs various episodes of the Dacian wars. The new Roman province was limited to the regions originally inhabited by the Dacians, and a strong garrison, estimated by historians at 25,000 men, was left to guard it. Numerous colonists from all parts of the Roman Empire were brought here as settlers, and what remained of the Dacian population completely amalgamated with them. The new province quickly developed under the impulse of Roman civilization, of which numerous inscriptions and other archaeological remains are evidence. It became one of the most flourishing dependencies of the Roman Empire, and was spoken of as _Dacia Felix_. About a century and a half later hordes of barbarian invaders, coming from the north and east, swept over the country. Under the strain of those incursions the Roman legions withdrew by degrees into Moesia, and in A.D. 271 Dacia was finally evacuated. But the colonists remained, retiring into the Carpathians, where they lived forgotten of history. The most powerful of these invaders were the Goths (271-375), who, coming from the shores of the Baltic, had shortly before settled north of the Black Sea. Unaccustomed to mountain life, they did not penetrate beyond the plains between the Carpathians and the Dnjester. They had consequently but little intercourse with the Daco-Roman population, and the total absence in the Rumanian language and in Rumanian place-names of words of Gothic origin indicates that their stay had no influence upon country or population. Material evidence of their occupation is afforded, however, by a number of articles made of gold found in 1837 at Petroasa (Moldavia), and now in the National Museum at Bucarest. After the Goths came the Huns (375-453), under Attila, the Avars (566-799), both of Mongolian race, and the Gepidae (453-566), of Gothic race--all savage, bloodthirsty raiders, passing and repassing over the Rumanian regions, pillaging and burning everywhere. To avoid destruction the Daco-Roman population withdrew more and more into the inaccessible wooded regions of the mountains, and as a result were in no wise influenced by contact with the invaders. But with the coming of the Slavs, who settled in the Balkan peninsula about the beginning of the seventh century, certain fundamental changes took place in the ethnical conditions prevailing on the Danube. The Rumanians were separated from the Romans, following the occupation by the Slavs of the Roman provinces between the Adriatic and the Black Sea. Such part of the population as was not annihilated during the raids of the Avars was taken into captivity, or compelled to retire southwards towards modern Macedonia and northwards towards the Dacian regions. Parts of the Rumanian country became dependent upon the new state founded between the Balkans and the Danube in 679 by the Bulgarians, a people of Turanian origin, who formerly inhabited the regions north of the Black Sea between the Volga and the mouth of the Danube. After the conversion of the Bulgarians to Christianity (864) the Slovenian language was introduced into their Church, and afterwards also into the Church of the already politically dependent Rumanian provinces.[1] This finally severed the Daco-Rumanians from the Latin world. The former remained for a long time under Slav influence, the extent of which is shown by the large number of words of Slav origin contained in the Rumanian language, especially in geographical and agricultural terminology. [Footnote 1: The Rumanians north and south of the Danube embraced the Christian faith after its introduction into the Roman Empire by Constantine the Great (325), with Latin as religious language and their church organization under the rule of Rome. A Christian basilica, dating from that period, has been discovered by the Rumanian; archaeologist, Tocilescu, at Adam Klissi (Dobrogea).] The coming of the Hungarians (a people of Mongolian race) about the end of the ninth century put an end to the Bulgarian domination in Dacia. While a few of the existing Rumanian duchies were subdued by Stephen the Saint, the first King of Hungary (995-1038), the 'land of the Vlakhs' (_Terra Blacorum_), in the south-eastern part of Transylvania, enjoyed under the Hungarian kings a certain degree of national autonomy. The Hungarian chronicles speak of the Vlakhs as 'former colonists of the Romans'. The ethnological influence of the Hungarians upon the Rumanian population has been practically nil. They found the Rumanian nation firmly established, race and language, and the latter remained pure of Magyarisms, even in Transylvania. Indeed, it is easy to prove--and it is only what might be expected, seeing that the Rumanians had attained a higher state of civilization than the Hungarian invaders--that the Hungarians were largely influenced by the Daco-Romans. They adopted Latin as their official language, they copied many of the institutions and customs of the Rumanians, and recruited a large number of their nobles from among the Rumanian nobility, which was already established on a feudal basis when the Hungarians arrived. A great number of the Rumanian nobles and freemen were, however, inimical to the new masters, and migrated to the regions across the mountains. This the Hungarians used as a pretext for bringing parts of Rumania under their domination, and they were only prevented from further extending it by the coming of the Tartars (1241), the last people of Mongolian origin to harry these regions. The Hungarians maintained themselves, however, in the parts which they had already occupied, until the latter were united into the principality of the 'Rumanian land'. To sum up: 'The Rumanians are living to-day where fifteen centuries ago their ancestors were living. The possession of the regions on the Lower Danube passed from one nation to another, but none endangered the Rumanian nation as a national entity. "The water passes, the stones remain"; the hordes of the migration period, detached from their native soil, disappeared as mist before the sun. But the Roman element bent their heads while the storm passed over them, clinging to the old places until the advent of happier days, when they were able to stand up and stretch their limbs.'[1] [Footnote 1: Traugott Tamm, _�ber den Ursprung der Rumänen,_, Bonn, 1891.] 3 _The Foundation and Development of the Rumanian Principalities_ The first attempt to organize itself into a political entity was made by the Rumanian nation in the thirteenth century, when, under the impulse of the disaffected nobles coming from Hungary, the two principalities of 'Muntenia' (Mountain Land), commonly known as Wallachia and 'Moldavia', came into being. The existence of Rumanians on both sides of the Carpathians long before Wallachia was founded is corroborated by contemporary chroniclers. We find evidence of it in as distant a source as the _History of the Mongols,_ of the Persian chronicler, Rashid Al-Din, who, describing the invasion of the Tartars, says: 'In the middle of spring (1240) the princes (Mongols or Tartars) crossed the mountains in order to enter the country of the Bulares (Bulgarians) and of the Bashguirds (Hungarians). Orda, who was marching to the right, passed through the country of the Haute (Olt), where Bazarambam met him with an army, but was beaten. Boudgek crossed the mountains to enter the Kara-Ulak, and defeated the Ulak (Vlakh) people.'[1] Kara-Ulak means Black Wallachia; Bazarambam is certainly the corrupted name of the Ban Bassarab, who ruled as vassal of Hungary over the province of Oltenia, and whose dynasty founded the principality of Muntenia. The early history of this principality was marked by efforts to free it from Hungarian domination, a natural development of the desire for emancipation which impelled the Rumanians to migrate from the subdued provinces in Hungary. [Footnote 1: Xenopol, _Histoire des Roumains,_ Paris, 1896, i, 168.] The foundation of Moldavia dates from after the retreat of the Tartars, who had occupied the country for a century (1241-1345). They were driven out by an expedition under Hungarian leadership, with the aid of Rumanians from the province of Maramuresh. It was the latter who then founded the principality of Moldavia under the suzerainty of Hungary, the chroniclers mentioning as its first ruler the Voivod Dragosh.[1] [Footnote 1: The legend as to the foundation of Moldavia tells us that Dragosh, when hunting one day in the mountains, was pursuing a bison through the dense forest. Towards sunset, just when a successful shot from his bow had struck and killed the animal, he emerged at a point from which the whole panorama of Moldavia was unfolded before his astonished eyes. Deeply moved by the beauty of this fair country, he resolved to found a state there. It is in commemoration of this event that Moldavia bears the head of a wild bison on her banner.] The rudimentary political formations which already existed before the foundation of the principalities were swept away by the invasion of the Tartars, who destroyed all trace of constituted authority in the plains below the Carpathians. In consequence the immigrants from Transylvania did not encounter any resistance, and were even able to impose obedience upon the native population, though coming rather as refugees than as conquerors. These new-comers were mostly nobles (boyards). Their emigration deprived the masses of the Rumanian population of Transylvania of all moral and political support--especially as a part of the nobility had already been won over by their Hungarian masters--and with time the masses fell into servitude. On the other hand the immigrating nobles strengthened and secured the predominance of their class in the states which were to be founded. In both cases the situation of the peasantry became worse, and we have, curiously enough, the same social fact brought about by apparently contrary causes. Though the Rumanians seem to have contributed but little, up to the nineteenth century, to the advance of civilization, their part in European history is nevertheless a glorious one, and if less apparent, perhaps of more fundamental importance. By shedding their blood in the struggle against the Ottoman invasion, they, together with the other peoples of Oriental Europe, procured that security which alone made possible the development of western civilization. Their merit, like that of all with whom they fought, 'is not to have vanquished time and again the followers of Mohammed, who always ended by gaining the upper hand, but rather to have resisted with unparalleled energy, perseverance, and bravery the terrible Ottoman invaders, making them pay for each step advanced such a heavy price, that their resources were drained, they were unable to carry on the fight, and thus their power came to an end'.[1] [Footnote 1: Xenopol, op. cit., i. 266.] From the phalanx of Christian warriors stand out the names of a few who were the bravest of a time when bravery was common; but while it is at least due that more tribute than a mere mention of their names should be paid to the patriot princes who fought in life-long conflict against Turkish domination, space does not permit me to give more than the briefest summary of the wars which for centuries troubled the country. It was in 1389, when Mircea the Old was Prince of Wallachia, that the united Balkan nations attempted for the first time to check Ottoman invasion. The battle of Kosovo, however, was lost, and Mircea had to consent to pay tribute to the Turks. For a short space after the battle of Rovine (1398), where Mircea defeated an invading Turkish army, the country had peace, until Turkish victories under the Sultan Mohammed resulted, in 1411, in further submissions to tribute. It is worthy of mention that it was on the basis of tribute that the relations between Turkey and Rumania rested until 1877, the Rumanian provinces becoming at no time what Hungary was for a century and a half, namely, a Turkish province. In a battle arising following his frustration--by means not unconnected with his name--of a Turkish plot against his person, Vlad the Impaler (1458-62) completely defeated the Turks under Mohammed II; but an unfortunate feud against Stephen the Great, Prince of Moldavia, put an end to the reign of Vlad--a fierce but just prince. A period of the most lamentable decadence followed, during which Turkish domination prevailed more and more in the country. During an interval of twenty-five years (1521-46) no less than eleven princes succeeded one another on the throne of Muntenia, whilst of the nineteen princes who ruled during the last three-quarters of the sixteenth century, only two died a natural death while still reigning. In Moldavia also internal struggles were weakening the country. Not powerful enough to do away with one another, the various aspirants to the throne contented themselves with occupying and ruling over parts of the province. Between 1443-7 there were no less than three princes reigning simultaneously, whilst one of them, Peter III, lost and regained the throne three times. For forty-seven years (1457-1504) Stephen the Great fought for the independence of Moldavia. At Racova, in 1475, he annihilated an Ottoman army in a victory considered the greatest ever secured by the Cross against Islam. The Shah of Persia, Uzun Hasan, who was also fighting the Turks, offered him an alliance, urging him at the same time to induce all the Christian princes to unite with the Persians against the common foe. These princes, as well as Pope Sixtus IV, gave him great praise; but when Stephen asked from them assistance in men and money, not only did he receive none, but Vladislav, King of Hungary, conspired with his brother Albert, King of Poland, to conquer and divide Moldavia between them. A Polish army entered the country, but was utterly destroyed by Stephen in the forest of Kosmin. Having had the opportunity of judging at its right value the friendship of the Christian princes, on his death-bed Stephen advised his son Bogdan to make voluntary submission to the Turks. Thus Moldavia, like Wallachia, came under Turkish suzerainty. For many years after Stephen's death the Turks exploited the Rumanian countries shamelessly, the very candidates for the throne having to pay great sums for Turkish support. The country groaned under the resultant taxation and the promiscuousness of the tribute exacted till, in 1572, John the Terrible ascended the Moldavian throne. This prince refused to pay tribute, and repeatedly defeated the Turks. An army of 100,000 men advanced against John; but his cavalry, composed of nobles not over-loyal to a prince having the peasant cause so much at heart, deserted to the enemy, with the result that, after a gallant and prolonged resistance, he suffered defeat. Michael the Brave, Prince of Muntenia (1593-1601), was the last of the Vlakhs to stand up against Turkish aggression. This prince not only succeeded in crushing a Turkish army sent against him, but he invaded Transylvania, whose prince had leanings towards Turkey, pushed further into Moldavia, and succeeded in bringing the three Rumanian countries under his rule. Michael is described in the documents of the time as 'Prince of the whole land of Hungro-Wallachia, of Transylvania, and of Moldavia'. He ruled for eight years. 'It was not the Turkish sword which put an end to the exploits of Michael the Brave. The Magyars of Transylvania betrayed him; the German emperor condemned him; and a Greek in Austria's service, General Basta, had him sabred: as though it were fated that all the enemies of the Rumanian race, the Magyar, the German, and the Greek, should unite to dip their hands in the blood of the Latin hero.'[1] The union of the Rumanian lands which he realized did not last long; but it gave form and substance to the idea which was from that day onward to be the ideal of the Rumanian nation. [Footnote 1: Alfred Rumbaud, Introduction to Xenopol, op, cit., i. xix.] The fundamental cause of all the sufferings of the Rumanian principalities was the hybrid 'hereditary-elective' system of succession to the throne, which prevailed also in most of the neighbouring countries. All members of the princely family were eligible for the succession; but the right of selecting among them lay with an assembly composed of the higher nobility and clergy. All was well if a prince left only one successor. But if there were several, even if illegitimate children, claiming the right to rule, then each endeavoured to gain over the nobility with promises, sometimes, moreover, seeking the support of neighbouring countries. This system rendered easier and hastened the establishment of Turkish domination; and corruption and intrigues, in which the Sultan's harem had a share, became capital factors in the choice and election of the ruler. Economically and intellectually all this was disastrous. The Rumanians were an agricultural people. The numerous class of small freeholders (moshneni and razeshi), not being able to pay the exorbitant taxes, often had their lands confiscated by the princes. Often, too, not being able to support themselves, they sold their property and their very selves to the big landowners. Nor did the nobles fare better. Formerly free, quasi-feudal warriors, seeking fortune in reward for services rendered to their prince, they were often subjected to coercive treatment on his part now that the throne depended upon the goodwill of influential personages at Constantinople. Various civil offices were created at court, either necessitated by the extension of the relations of the country or intended to satisfy some favourite of the prince. Sources of social position and great material benefit, these offices were coveted greedily by the boyards, and those who obtained none could only hope to cheat fortune by doing their best to undermine the position of the prince. 4 _The Phanariote Rule_ These offices very presently fell to the lot of the Phanariotes (Greek merchants and bankers inhabiting the quarter of Phanar), who had in some way or another assisted the princes to their thrones, these being now practically put up to auction in Constantinople. As a natural consequence of such a state of affairs the thoughts of the Rumanian princes turned to Russia as a possible supporter against Ottoman oppression. A formal alliance was entered into in 1711 with Tsar Peter the Great, but a joint military action against the Turks failed, the Tsar returned to Russia, and the Porte threatened to transform Moldavia, in order to secure her against incipient Russian influence, into a Turkish province with a pasha as administrator. The nobles were preparing to leave the country, and the people to retire into the mountains, as their ancestors had done in times of danger. It is not to be wondered at that, under the menace of losing their autonomy, the Rumanians 'welcomed the nomination of the dragoman of the Porte, Nicholas Mavrocordato, though he was a Greek. The people greeted with joy the accession of the first Phanariote to the throne of the principality of Moldavia'[1] (1711). [Footnote 1: Xenopol, op. cit., ii. 138] Knowledge of foreign languages had enabled the Phanariotes to obtain important diplomatic positions at Constantinople, and they ended by acquiring the thrones of the Rumanian principalities as a recompense for their services. But they had to pay for it, and to make matters more profitable the Turks devised the ingenious method of transferring the princes from one province to another, each transference being considered as a new nomination. From 1730 to 1741 the two reigning princes interchanged thrones in this way three times. They acquired the throne by gold, and they could only keep it by gold. All depended upon how much they wore able to squeeze out of the country. The princes soon became past masters in the art of spoliation. They put taxes upon chimneys, and the starving peasants pulled their cottages down and went to live in mountain caves; they taxed the animals, and the peasants preferred to kill the few beasts they possessed. But this often proved no remedy, for we are told that the Prince Constantin Mavrocordato, having prescribed a tax on domestic animals at a time when an epidemic had broken out amongst them, ordered the tax to be levied on the carcasses. 'The Administrative régime during the Phanariote period was, in general, little else than organized brigandage,' says Xenopol[1]. In fact the Phanariote rule was instinct with corruption, luxury, and intrigue. Though individually some of them may not deserve blame, yet considering what the Phanariotes took out of the country, what they introduced into it, and to what extent they prevented its development, their era was the most calamitous in Rumanian history. [Footnote 1: Ibid, op. cit., ii. 308] The war of 1768 between Russia and Turkey gave the former power a vague protectorate over the Rumanian provinces (Treaty of Kutchuk Kainardji). In 1774 Austria acquired from the Turks, by false promises, the northern part of Moldavia, the pleasant land of Bucovina. During the new conflict between Turkey and Russia, the Russian armies occupied and battened upon the Rumanian provinces for six years. Though they had again to abandon their intention of making the Danube the southern boundary of their empire--to which Napoleon had agreed by the secret treaty with Tsar Alexander (Erfurt, September 27, 1808)--they obtained from Turkey the cession of Bessarabia (Treaty of Bucarest, May 28, 1812), together with that part of Moldavia lying between the Dnjester and the Pruth, the Russians afterwards giving to the whole region the name of Bessarabia. 5 _Modern Period to 1866_ In 1821 the Greek revolution, striving to create an independent Greece, broke out on Rumanian ground, supported by the princes of Moldavia and Muntenia. Of this support the Rumanians strongly disapproved, for, if successful, the movement would have strengthened the obnoxious Greek domination; If unsuccessful, the Turks were sure to take a terrible revenge for the assistance given by the Rumanian countries. The movement, which was started about the same time by the ennobled peasant, Tudor Vladimirescu, for the emancipation of the lower classes, soon acquired, therefore, an anti-Greek tendency. Vladimirescu was assassinated at the instigation of the Greeks; the latter were completely checked by the Turks, who, grown suspicious after the Greek rising and confronted with the energetic attitude of the Rumanian nobility, consented in 1822 to the nomination of two native boyards, Jonitza Sturdza and Gregory Ghica, recommended by their countrymen, as princes of Moldavia and Wallachia. The iniquitous system of 'the throne to the highest bidder' had come to an end. The period which marks the decline of Greek influence in the Rumanian principalities also marks the growth of Russian influence; the first meant economic exploitation, the second was a serious menace to the very existence of the Rumanian nation. But if Russia seemed a possible future danger, Turkey with its Phanariote following was a certain and immediate menace. When, therefore, at the outbreak of the conflict with Turkey in 1828 the Russians once more passed the Pruth, the country welcomed them. Indeed, the Rumanian boyards, who after the rising of 1821 and the Turkish occupation had taken refuge in Transylvania, had even more than once invited Russian intervention.[1] Hopes and fears alike were realized. By the Treaty of Adrianople (1829) the rights of Turkey as suzerain were limited to the exaction of a monetary tribute and the right of investiture of the princes, one important innovation being that these last were to be elected by national assemblies for life. But, on the other hand, a Russian protectorate was established, and the provinces remained in Russian military occupation up to 1834, pending the payment of the war indemnity by Turkey. The ultimate aim of Russia may be open to discussion. Her immediate aim was to make Russian influence paramount in the principalities; this being the only possible explanation of the anomalous fact that, pending the payment of the war indemnity, Russia herself was occupying the provinces whose autonomy she had but now forcibly retrieved from Turkey. The _Règlement Organique_, the new constitutional law given to the principalities by their Russian governor, Count Kisseleff, truly reflected the tendency. From the administrative point of view it was meant to make for progress; from the political point of view it was meant to bind the two principalities to the will of the Tsar. The personal charm of Count Kisseleff seemed to have established as it were an unbreakable link between Russians and Rumanians. But when he left the country in 1834 'the liking for Russia passed away to be replaced finally by the two sentiments which always most swayed the Rumanian heart: love for their country, and affection towards France'. [Footnote 1: Sec P. Eliade, _Histoire de l'Esprit Public en Roumanie_, i, p. 167 et seq.] French culture had been introduced into the principalities by the Phanariote princes who, as dragomans of the Porte, had to know the language, and usually employed French secretaries for themselves and French tutors for their children. With the Russian occupation a fresh impetus was given to French culture, which was pre-eminent in Russia at the time; and the Russian officials, not speaking the language of the country, generally employed French in their relations with the Rumanian authorities, French being already widely spoken in Rumania. The contact with French civilization, at an epoch when the Rumanians were striving to free themselves from Turkish, Greek, and Russian political influence, roused in them the sleeping Latin spirit, and the younger generation, in constantly increasing numbers, flocked to Paris in search of new forms of civilization and political life. At this turning-point in their history the Rumanians felt themselves drawn towards France, no less by racial affinity than by the liberal ideas to which that country had so passionately given herself during several decades. By the Treaty of Adrianople the Black Sea was opened to the commercial vessels of all nations. This made for the rapid economic development of the principalities by providing an outlet for their agricultural produce, the chief source of their wealth. It also brought them nearer to western Europe, which began to be interested in a nation whose spirit centuries of sufferings had failed to break. Political, literary, and economic events thus prepared the ground for the Rumanian Renascence, and when in 1848 the great revolution broke out, it spread at once over the Rumanian countries, where the dawn of freedom had been struggling to break since 1821. The Rumanians of Transylvania rose against the tyranny of the Magyars; those of Moldavia and Muntenia against the oppressive influence of Russia. The movement under the gallant, but inexperienced, leadership of a few patriots, who, significantly enough, had almost all been educated in France, was, however, soon checked in the principalities by the joint action of Russian and Turkish forces which remained in occupation of the country. Many privileges were lost (Convention of Balta Liman, May 1, 1849); but the revolution had quickened the national sentiment of the younger generation in all classes of society, and the expatriated leaders, dispersed throughout the great capitals of Europe, strenuously set to work to publish abroad the righteous cause of their country. In this they received the enthusiastic and invaluable assistance of Edgar Quinet, Michelet, Saint-Marc Girardin, and others. This propaganda had the fortune to be contemporaneous and in agreement with the political events leading to the Crimean War, which was entered upon to check the designs of Russia. A logical consequence was the idea, raised at the Paris Congress of 1856, of the union of the Rumanian principalities as a barrier to Russian expansion. This idea found a powerful supporter in Napoleon III, ever a staunch upholder of the principle of nationality. But at the Congress the unexpected happened. Russia favoured the idea of union, 'to swallow the two principalities at a gulp,' as a contemporary diplomatist maliciously suggested; while Austria opposed it strongly. So, inconceivably enough, did Turkey, whose attitude, as the French ambassador at Constantinople, Thouvenel, put it, 'was less influenced by the opposition of Austria than by the approval of Russia'.[1] Great Britain also threw in her weight with the powers which opposed the idea of union, following her traditional policy of preserving the European equilibrium. The treaty of March 30, 1856, re-incorporated with Moldavia the southern part of Bessarabia, including the delta of the Danube, abolished the Russian protectorate, but confirmed the suzerainty of Turkey--not unnaturally, since the integrity of the Ottoman Empire had been the prime motive of the war. By prohibiting Turkey, however, from entering Rumanian territory, save with the consent of the great powers, it was recognized indirectly that the suzerainty was merely a nominal one. Article 23 of the treaty, by providing that the administration of the principalities was to be on a national basis, implicitly pointed to the idea of union, as the organization of one principality independently of the other would not have been national. But as the main argument of Turkey and Austria was that the Rumanians themselves did not desire the union, it was decided to convene in both principalities special assemblies (divans _ad hoc_) representing all classes of the population, whose wishes were to be embodied, by a European commission, in a report for consideration by the Congress. [Footnote 1: A. Xenopol, _Unionistii si Separatistii_ (Paper read before the Rumanian Academy), 1909.] To understand the argument of the two powers concerned and the decision to which it led, it must be borne in mind that the principalities were in the occupation of an Austrian army, which had replaced the Russian armies withdrawn in 1854, and that the elections for the assemblies were to be presided over by Turkish commissaries. Indeed, the latter, in collaboration with the Austrian consuls, so successfully doctored the election lists,[1] that the idea of union might once more have fallen through, had it not been for the invaluable assistance which Napoleon III gave the Rumanian countries. As Turkish policy was relying mainly on England's support, Napoleon brought about a personal meeting with Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, at Osborne (August 1857), the result of which was a compromise: Napoleon agreed to defer for the time being the idea of an effective union of the two principalities, England undertaking, on the other hand, to make the Porte cancel the previous elections, and proceed to new ones after revision of the electoral lists. The corrupt Austrian and Turkish influence on the old elections was best demonstrated by the fact that only three of the total of eighty-four old members succeeded in securing re-election. The assemblies met and proclaimed as imperatively necessary to the future welfare of the provinces, their union, 'for no frontier divides us, and everything tends to bring us closer, and nothing to separate us, save the ill-will of those who desire to see us disunited and weak'; further, a foreign hereditary dynasty, because 'the accession to the throne of princes chosen from amongst us has been a constant pretext for foreign interference, and the throne has been the cause of unending feud among the great families of this country'. Moreover, if the union of the two principalities was to be accomplished under a native prince, it is obvious that the competition would have become doubly keen; not to speak of the jealousies likely to be arousal between Moldavians and Muntenians. [Footnote 1: The edifying correspondence between the Porte and its commissary Vorgoridès regarding the arrangements for the Rumanian elections fell into the hands of Rumanian politicians, and caused a great sensation when it appeared in _L'Etoile du Danube_, published in Brussels by Rumanian _émigrés_.] Such were the indisputable wishes of the Rumanians, based on knowledge of men and facts, and arising out of the desire to see their country well started on the high road of progress. But Europe had called for the expression of these wishes only to get the question shelved for the moment, as in 1856 everybody was anxious for a peace which should at all costs be speedy. Consequently, when a second Congress met in Paris, in May 1858, three months of discussion and the sincere efforts of France only resulted in a hybrid structure entitled the 'United Principalities'. These were to have a common legislation, a common army, and a central committee composed of representatives of both assemblies for the discussion of common affairs; but were to continue to form two separate states, with independent legislative and executive institutions, each having to elect a prince of Rumanian descent for life. Disappointed in their hopes and reasonable expectations, the Rumanians adopted the principle of 'help yourself and God will help you', and proceeded to the election of their rulers. Several candidates competed in Moldavia. To avoid a split vote the name of an outsider was put forward the day before the election, and on January 17, 1859, Colonel Alexander Ioan Cuza was unanimously elected. In Wallachia the outlook was very uncertain when the assembly met, amid great popular excitement, on February 5. The few patriots who had realized that the powers, seeking only their own interests, were consciously and of set purpose hampering the emancipation of a long-suffering nation, put forth and urged the election of Cuza, and the assembly unanimously adopted this spirited suggestion. By this master-stroke the Rumanians had quietly accomplished the reform which was an indispensable condition towards assuring a better future. The political moment was propitious. Italy's military preparation prevented Austria from intervening, and, as usual when confronted with an accomplished fact, the great powers and Turkey finished by officially recognizing the action of the principalities in December 1861. The central commission was at once abolished, the two assemblies and cabinets merged into one, and Bucarest became the capital of the new state 'Rumania'. If the unsympathetic attitude of the powers had any good result, it was to bring home for the moment to the Rumanians the necessity for national unity. When the danger passed, however, the wisdom which it had evoked followed suit. Cuza cherished the hope of realizing various ideal reforms. Confronted with strong opposition, he did not hesitate to override the constitution by dissolving the National Assembly (May 2, 1864) and arrogating to himself the right, till the formation of a new Chamber, to issue decrees which had all the force of law. He thus gave a dangerous example to the budding constitutional polity; political passions were let loose, and a plot organized by the Opposition led to the forced abdication of Cuza on February 23, 1866. The prince left the country for ever a few days later. No disturbance whatever took place, not one drop of blood was shed. A series of laws, mostly adapted from French models, was introduced by Cuza. Under the Education Act of 1864 all degrees of education were free, and elementary education compulsory. A large number of special and technical schools were founded, as well as two universities, one at Jassy (1860) and one at Bucarest (1864). After the _coup d'état_ of 1864 universal suffrage was introduced, largely as an attempt to 'swamp' the fractious political parties with the peasant vote; while at the same time a 'senate' was created as a 'moderating assembly' which, composed as it was of members by right and members nominated by the prince, by its very nature increased the influence of the crown. The chief reforms concerned the rural question. Firstly, Cuza and his minister, Cogalniceanu, secularized and converted to the state the domains of the monasteries, which during the long period of Greek influence had acquired one-fifth of the total area of the land, and were completely in the hands of the Greek clergy (Law of December 13, 1863). More important still, as affecting fundamentally the social structure of the country, was the Rural Law (promulgated on August 26, 1864), which had been the cause of the conflict between Cuza and the various political factions, the Liberals clamouring for more thorough reforms, the Conservatives denouncing Cuza's project as revolutionary. As the peasant question is the most important problem left for Rumania to solve, and as I believe that, in a broad sense, it has a considerable bearing upon the present political situation in that country, it may not be out of place here to devote a little space to its consideration. Originally the peasant lived in the village community as a free land-owner. He paid a certain due (one-tenth of his produce and three days' labour yearly) to his leader (_cneaz_) as recompense for his leadership in peace and war. The latter, moreover, solely enjoyed the privilege of carrying on the occupations of miller and innkeeper, and the peasant was compelled to mill with him. When after the foundation of the principalities the upper class was established on a feudal basis, the peasantry were subjected to constantly increasing burdens. Impoverished and having in many cases lost their land, the peasants were also deprived at the end of the sixteenth century of their freedom of movement. By that time the cneaz, from being the leader of the community, had become the actual lord of the village, and his wealth was estimated by the number of villages he possessed. The peasant owners paid their dues to him in labour and in kind. Those peasants who owned no land were his serfs, passing with the land from master to master. Under the Turkish domination the Rumanian provinces became the granary of the Ottoman Empire. The value of land rose quickly, as did also the taxes. To meet these taxes--from the payment of which the boyards (the descendants of the cneazi) were exempt--the peasant owners had frequently to sacrifice their lands; while, greedy after the increased benefits, the boyards used all possible means to acquire more land for themselves. With the increase of their lands they needed more labour, and they obtained permission from the ruler not only to exact increased labour dues from the peasantry, but also to determine the amount of work that should be done in a day. This was effected in such a way that the peasants had, in fact, to serve three and four times the number of days due. The power to acquire more land from the freeholders, and to increase the amount of labour due by the peasants, was characteristic of the legislation of the eighteenth century. By a decree of Prince Moruzi, in 1805, the lords were for the first time empowered to reserve to their own use part of the estate, namely, one-fourth of the meadow land, and this privilege was extended in 1828 to the use of one-third of the arable land. The remaining two-thirds were reserved for the peasants, every young married couple being entitled to a certain amount of land, in proportion to the number of traction animals they owned. When the Treaty of Adrianople of 1829 opened the western markets to Rumanian corn, in which markets far higher prices were obtainable than from the Turks, Rumanian agriculture received an extraordinary impetus. Henceforth the efforts of the boyards were directed towards lessening the amount of land to which the peasants were entitled. By the _Règlement Organique_ they succeeded in reducing such land to half its previous area, at the same time maintaining and exacting from the peasant his dues in full. It is in the same Act that there appears for the first time the fraudulent title 'lords of the land', though the boyards had no exclusive right of property; they had the use of one-third of the estate, and a right to a due in labour and in kind from the peasant holders, present or prospective, of the other two-thirds. With a view to ensuring, on the one hand, greater economic freedom to the land-owners, and, on the other, security for the peasants from the enslaving domination of the upper class, the rural law of 1864 proclaimed the peasant-tenants full proprietors of their holdings, and the land-owners full proprietors of the remainder of the estate. The original intention of creating common land was not carried out in the Bill. The peasant's holding in arable land being small, he not infrequently ploughed his pasture, and, as a consequence, had either to give up keeping beasts, or pay a high price to the land-owners for pasturage. Dues in labour and in kind were abolished, the land-owners receiving an indemnity which was to be refunded to the state by the peasants in instalments within a period of fifteen years. This reform is characteristic of much of the legislation of Cuza: despotically pursuing the realization of some ideal reform, without adequate study of and adaptation to social circumstances, his laws provided no practical solution of the problem with which they dealt. In this case, for example, the reform benefited the upper class solely, although generally considered a boon to the peasantry. Of ancient right two-thirds of the estate were reserved for the peasants; but the new law gave them possession of no more than the strip they were holding, which barely sufficed to provide them with the mere necessaries of life. The remainder up to two-thirds of the estate went as a gift, with full proprietorship; to the boyard. For the exemption of their dues in kind and in labour, the peasants had to pay an indemnity, whereas the right of their sons to receive at their marriage a piece of land in proportion to the number of traction animals they possessed was lost without compensation. Consequently, the younger peasants had to sell their labour, contracting for periods of a year and upwards, and became a much easier prey to the spoliation of the upper class than when they had at least a strip of land on which to build a hut, and from which to procure their daily bread; the more so as the country had no industry which could compete with agriculture in the labour market. An investigation undertaken by the Home Office showed that out of 1,265 labour contracts for 1906, chosen at random, only 39.7 per cent, were concluded at customary wages; the others were lower in varying degrees, 13.2 per cent. of the cases showing wages upwards of 75 per cent. below the usual rates. Under these conditions of poverty and economic serfdom the peasantry was not able to participate in the enormous development of Rumanian agriculture, which had resulted from increased political security and the establishment of an extensive network of railways. While the boyards found an increasing attraction in politics, a new class of middlemen came into existence, renting the land from the boyards for periods varying generally from three to five years. Owing to the resultant competition, rents increased considerably, while conservative methods of cultivation kept production stationary. Whereas the big cultivator obtained higher prices to balance the increased cost of production, the peasant, who produced for his own consumption, could only face such increase by a corresponding decrease in the amount of food consumed. To show how much alive the rural question is, it is enough to state that peasant risings occurred in 1888, 1889, 1894, 1900, and 1907; that new distributions of land took place in 1881 and 1889; that land was promised to the peasants as well at the time of the campaign of 1877 as at that of 1913; and that more or less happily conceived measures concerning rural questions have been passed in almost every parliamentary session. The general tendency of such legislation partook of the 'free contract' nature, though owing to the social condition of the peasantry the acts in question had to embody protective measures providing for a maximum rent for arable and pasture land, and a minimum wage for the peasant labourer. Solutions have been suggested in profusion. That a solution is possible no one can doubt. One writer, basing his arguments on official statistics which show that the days of employment in 1905 averaged only ninety-one for each peasant, claims that only the introduction of circulating capital and the creation of new branches of activity can bring about a change. The suggested remedy may be open to discussion; but our author is undoubtedly right when, asking himself why this solution has not yet been attempted, he says: 'Our country is governed at present by an agrarian class.... Her whole power rests in her ownership of the land, our only wealth. The introduction of circulating capital would result in the disintegration of that wealth, in the loss of its unique quality, and, as a consequence, in the social decline of its possessors.'[1] This is the fundamental evil which prevents any solution of the rural question. A small class of politicians, with the complicity of a large army of covetous and unscrupulous officials, live in oriental indolence out of the sufferings of four-fifths of the Rumanian nation. Though elementary education is compulsory, more than 60 per cent. of the population are still illiterate, mainly on account of the inadequacy of the educational budget. Justice is a myth for the peasant. Of political rights he is, in fact, absolutely deprived. The large majority, and by far the sanest part of the Rumanian nation, are thus fraudulently kept outside the political and social life of the country. It is not surmising too much, therefore, to say that the opportunity of emancipating the Transylvanians would not have been wilfully neglected, had that part of the Rumanian nation in which the old spirit still survives had any choice in the determination of their own fate. [Footnote 1: St. Antim, _Cbestiunea Social[)a] [^i]n Rom[^a]nia,_ 1908, p. 214.] 6 _Contemporary Period: Internal Development_ In order to obviate internal disturbances or external interference, the leaders of the movement which had dethroned Prince Cuza caused parliament to proclaim, on the day of Cuza's abdication, Count Philip of Flanders-- the father of King Albert of Belgium--Prince of Rumania. The offer was, however, not accepted, as neither France nor Russia favoured the proposal. Meanwhile a conference had met again in Paris at the instance of Turkey and vetoed the election of a foreign prince. But events of deeper importance were ripening in Europe, and the Rumanian politicians rightly surmised that the powers would not enforce their protests if a candidate were found who was likely to secure the support of Napoleon III, then 'schoolmaster' of European diplomacy. This candidate was found in the person of Prince Carol of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, second son of the head of the elder branch of the Hohenzollerns (Catholic and non-reigning). Prince Carol was cousin to the King of Prussia, and related through his grandmother to the Bonaparte family. He could consequently count upon the support of France and Prussia, while the political situation fortunately secured him from the opposition of Russia, whose relations with Prussia were at the time friendly, and also from that of Austria, whom Bismarck proposed to 'keep busy for some time to come'. The latter must have viewed with no little satisfaction the prospect of a Hohenzollern occupying the throne of Rumania at this juncture; and Prince Carol, allowing himself to be influenced by the Iron Chancellor's advice, answered the call of the Rumanian nation, which had proclaimed him as 'Carol I, Hereditary Prince of Rumania'. Travelling secretly with a small retinue, the prince second class, his suite first, Prince Carol descended the Danube on an Austrian steamer, and landed on May 8 at Turnu-Severin, the very place where, nearly eighteen centuries before, the Emperor Trajan had alighted and founded the Rumanian nation. By independent and energetic action, by a conscious neglect of the will of the powers, which only a young constitutional polity would have dared, by an active and unselfish patriotism, Rumania had at last chosen and secured as her ruler the foreign prince who alone had a chance of putting a stop to intrigues from within and from without. And the Rumanians had been extremely fortunate in their hasty and not quite independent choice. A prince of Latin origin would probably have been more warmly welcomed to the hearts of the Rumanian people; but after so many years of political disorder, corrupt administration, and arbitrary rule, a prince possessed of the German spirit of discipline and order was best fitted to command respect and impose obedience and sobriety of principle upon the Rumanian politicians. Prince Carol's task was no easy one. The journal compiled by the provisional government, which held the reins for the period elapsing between the abdication of Cuza and the accession of Prince Carol, depicts in the darkest colours the economic situation to which the faults, the waste, the negligence, and short-sightedness of the previous régime had reduced the country, 'the government being in the humiliating position of having brought disastrous and intolerable hardship alike upon its creditors, its servants, its pensioners, and its soldiers'.[1] Reforms were badly needed, and the treasury had nothing in hand but debts. To increase the income of the state was difficult, for the country was poor and not economically independent. Under the Paris Convention of 1858, Rumania remained bound, to her detriment, by the commercial treaties of her suzerain, Turkey, the powers not being willing to lose the privileges they enjoyed under the Turkish capitulations. Moreover, she was specially excluded from the arrangement of 1860, which allowed Turkey to increase her import taxes. The inheritance of ultra-liberal measures from the previous regime made it difficult to cope with the unruly spirit of the nation. Any attempt at change in this direction would have savoured of despotism to the people, who, having at last won the right to speak aloud, believed that to clamour against anything that meant 'rule' was the only real and full assertion of liberty. And the dissatisfied were always certain of finding a sympathetic ear and an open purse in the Chancellories of Vienna and St. Petersburg. [Footnote 1: D.A. Sturdza, _Treizeci de ani de Domnie ai Regelui Carol,_ 1900, i.82.] Prince Carol, not being sufficiently well acquainted with the conditions of the country nor possessing as yet much influence with the governing class, had not been in a position to influence at their inception the provisions of the extremely liberal constitution passed only a few weeks after his accession to the throne. The new constitution, which resembled that of Belgium more nearly than any other, was framed by a constituent assembly elected on universal suffrage, and, except for slight modifications introduced in 1879 and 1884, is in vigour to-day. It entrusts the executive to the king and his ministers, the latter alone being responsible for the acts of the government.[1] The legislative power is vested in the king and two assemblies--a senate and a chamber--the initiative resting with any one of the three.[2] The budget and the yearly bills fixing the strength of the army, however, must first be passed by the Chamber. The agreement of the two Chambers and the sanction of the king are necessary before any bill becomes law. The king convenes, adjourns, and dissolves parliament. He promulgates the laws and is invested with the right of absolute veto. The constitution proclaims the inviolability of domicile, the liberty of the press and of assembly, and absolute liberty of creed and religion, in so far as its forms of celebration do not come into conflict with public order and decency. It recognizes no distinction of class and privilege; all the citizens share equally rights and duties within the law. Education is free in the state schools, and elementary education compulsory wherever state schools exist. Individual liberty and property are guaranteed; but only Rumanian citizens can acquire rural property. Military service is compulsory, entailing two years in the infantry, three years in the cavalry and artillery, one year in all arms for those having completed their studies as far as the university stage. Capital punishment does not exist, except for military offences in time of war. [Footnote 1: There are at present nine departments: Interior, Foreign Affairs, Finance, War, Education and Religion, Domains and Agriculture, Public Works, Justice, and Industry and Commerce. The President of the Cabinet is Prime Minister, with or without portfolio.] [Footnote 2: All citizens of full age paying taxes, with various exemptions, are electors, voting according to districts and census. In the case of the illiterate country inhabitants, with an income from land of less than £12 a year, fifty of them choose one delegate having one vote in the parliamentary election. The professorial council of the two universities of Jassy and Bucarest send one member each to the Senate, the heir to the throne and the eight bishops being members by right.] The state religion is Greek Orthodox. Up to 1864 the Rumanian Church was subordinate to the Patriarchate of Constantinople. In that year it was proclaimed independent, national, and autocephalous, though this change was not recognized by the Patriarchate till 1885, while the secularization of the property of the monasteries put an end _de facto_ to the influence of the Greek clergy. Religious questions of a dogmatic nature are settled by the Holy Synod of Bucarest, composed of the two metropolitans of Bucarest and Jassy and the eight bishops; the Minister for Education, with whom the administrative part of the Church rests, having only a deliberative vote. The maintenance of the Church and of the clergy is included in the general budget of the country, the ministers being state officials (Law of 1893). Religion has never played an important part in Rumanian national life, and was generally limited to merely external practices. This may be attributed largely to the fact that as the Slavonic language had been used in the Church since the ninth century and then was superseded by Greek up to the nineteenth century, the clergy was foreign, and was neither in a position nor did it endeavour to acquire a spiritual influence over the Rumanian peasant. There is no record whatever in Rumanian history of any religious feuds or dissensions. The religious passivity remained unstirred even during the domination of the Turks, who contented themselves with treating the unbelievers with contempt, and squeezing as much money as possible out of them. Cuza having made no provision for the clergy when he converted the wealth of the monasteries to the state, they were left for thirty years in complete destitution, and remained as a consequence outside the general intellectual development of the country. Though the situation has much improved since the Law of 1893, which incorporated the priests with the other officials of the Government, the clergy, recruited largely from among the rural population, are still greatly inferior to the Rumanian priests of Bucovina and Transylvania. Most of them take up Holy orders as a profession: 'I have known several country parsons who were thorough atheists.'[1] [Footnote 1: R. Rosetti, _Pentru ce s-au r[)a]sculat [t'][)a]ranii_, 1907, p. 600] However difficult his task, Prince Carol never deviated from the strictly constitutional path: his opponents were free to condemn the prince's opinions; he never gave them the chance of questioning his integrity. Prince Carol relied upon the position in which his origin and family alliances placed him in his relations with foreign rulers to secure him the respect of his new subjects. Such considerations impressed the Rumanians. Nor could they fail to be aware of 'the differences between the previously elected princes and the present dynasty, and the improved position which the country owed to the latter'.[1] [Footnote 1: Augenzeuge, _Aus dem Leben König Karls von Rum[)a]nien, 1894-1900,_ iii. 177.] To inculcate the Rumanians with the spirit of discipline the prince took in hand with energy and pursued untiringly, in spite of all obstacles, the organization of the army. A reliable and well-organized armed force was the best security against internal trouble-mongers, and the best argument in international relations, as subsequent events amply proved. The Rumanian political parties were at the outset personal parties, supporting one or other of the candidates to the throne. When Greek influence, emanating from Constantinople, began to make itself felt, in the seventeenth century, a national party arose for the purpose of opposing it. This party counted upon the support of one of the neighbouring powers, and its various groups were known accordingly as the Austrian, the Russian, &c., parties. With the election of Cuza the external danger diminished, and the politicians divided upon principles of internal reform. Cuza not being in agreement with either party, they united to depose him, keeping truce during the period preceding the accession of Prince Carol, when grave external dangers wore threatening, and presiding in a coalition ministry at the introduction of the new constitution of 1866. But this done, the truce was broken. Political strife again awoke with all the more vigour for having been temporarily suppressed. The reforms which it became needful to introduce gave opportunity for the development of strong divergence of views between the political parties. The Liberals--the Red Party, as they were called at the time--(led by C.A. Rosetti and Ioan Bratianu, both strong Mazzinists, both having taken an important part in the revolutionary movements of 1848 and in that which led to the deposition of Cuza) were advocating reforms hardly practicable even in an established democracy; the Conservatives (led by Lascar Catargiu) were striving to stem the flood of ideal liberal measures on which all sense of reality was being carried away.[1] In little more than a year there were four different Cabinets, not to mention numerous changes in individual ministers. 'Between the two extreme tendencies Prince Carol had to strive constantly to preserve unity of direction, he himself being the only stable element in that ever unstable country.' It was not without many untoward incidents that he succeeded. His person was the subject of more than one unscrupulous attack by politicians in opposition, who did not hesitate to exploit the German origin and the German sympathies of the prince in order to inflame the masses. These internal conflicts entered upon an acute phase at the time of the Franco-German conflict of 1870. Whilst, to satisfy public opinion, the Foreign Secretary of the time, M.P.P. Carp, had to declare in parliament, that 'wherever the colours of France are waving, there are our interests and sympathies', the prince wrote to the King of Prussia assuring him that 'his sympathies will always be where the black and white banner is waving'. In these so strained circumstances a section of the population of Bucarest allowed itself to be drawn into anti-German street riots. Disheartened and despairing of ever being able to do anything for that 'beautiful country', whose people 'neither know how to govern themselves nor will allow themselves to be governed', the prince decided to abdicate. [Footnote 1: A few years ago a group of politicians, mainly of the old Conservative party, detached themselves and became the Conservative-Democratic party under the leadership of M. Take Ionescu.] So strong was the feeling in parliament roused by the prince's decision that one of his most inveterate opponents now declared that it would be an act of high treason for the prince to desert the country at such a crisis. We have an inkling of what might have resulted in the letter written by the Emperor of Austria to Prince Carol at the time, assuring him that 'my Government will eagerly seize any opportunity which presents itself to prove by deeds the interest it takes in a country connected by so many bonds to my empire'. Nothing but the efforts of Lascar Catargiu and the sound patriotism of a few statesmen saved the country from what would have been a real misfortune. The people were well aware of this, and cheers lasting several minutes greeted that portion of the message from the throne which conveyed to the new parliament the decision of the prince to continue reigning. The situation was considerably strengthened during a period of five years' Conservative rule. Prince Carol's high principles and the dignified example of his private life secured for him the increasing respect of politicians of all colours; while his statesmanlike qualities, his patience and perseverance, soon procured him an unlimited influence in the affairs of the state. This was made the more possible from the fact that, on account of the political ignorance of the masses, and of the varied influence exercised on the electorate by the highly centralized administration, no Rumanian Government ever fails to obtain a majority at an election. Any statesman can undertake to form a Cabinet if the king assents to a dissolution of parliament. Between the German system, where the emperor chooses the ministers independently of parliament, and the English system, where the members of the executive are indicated by the electorate through the medium of parliament, independently of the Crown, the Rumanian system takes a middle path. Neither the crown, nor the electorate, nor parliament possesses exclusive power in this direction. The Government is not, generally speaking, defeated either by the electorate or by parliament. It is the Crown which has the final decision in the changes of régime, and upon the king falls the delicate task of interpreting the significance of political or popular movements. The system--which comes nearest to that of Spain--undoubtedly has its advantages in a young and turbulent polity, by enabling its most stable element, the king, to ensure a continuous and harmonious policy. But it also makes the results dangerously dependent on the quality of that same element. Under the leadership of King Carol it was an undoubted success; the progress made by the country from an economic, financial, and military point of view during the last half-century is really enormous. Its position was furthermore strengthened by the proclamation of its independence, by the final settlement of the dynastic question,[1] and by its elevation on May 10, 1881, to the rank of kingdom, when upon the head of the first King of Rumania was placed a crown of steel made from one of the guns captured before Plevna from an enemy centuries old. [Footnote 1: In the absence of direct descendants and according to the constitution, Prince Ferdinand (born 1865), second son of King Carol's elder brother, was named Heir Apparent to the Rumanian throne. He married in 1892 Princess Marie of Coburg, and following the death of King Carol in 1914, he acceded to the throne as Ferdinand I.] From the point of view of internal politics progress has been less satisfactory. The various reforms once achieved, the differences of principle between the political parties degenerated into mere opportunism, the Opposition opposing, the Government disposing. The parties, and especially the various groups within the parties, are generally known by the names of their leaders, these denominations not implying any definite political principle or Government programme. It is, moreover, far from edifying that the personal element should so frequently distort political discussion. 'The introduction of modern forms of state organization has not been followed by the democratization of all social institutions.... The masses of the people have remained all but completely outside political life. Not only are we yet far from government of the people by the people, but our liberties, though deeply graven on the facade of our constitution, have not permeated everyday life nor even stirred in the consciousness of the people.'[1] [Footnote 1: C. Stere, _Social-democratizm sau Poporanizm_, Jassy.] It is strange that King Carol, who had the welfare of the people sincerely at heart, should not have used his influence to bring about a solution of the rural question; but this may perhaps be explained by the fact that, from Cuza's experience, he anticipated opposition from all political factions. It would almost seem as if, by a tacit understanding, and anxious to establish Rumania's international position, King Carol gave his ministers a free hand in the rural question, reserving for himself an equally free hand in foreign affairs. This seems borne out by the fact that, in the four volumes in which an 'eyewitness', making use of the king's private correspondence and personal notes, has minutely described the first fifteen years of the reign, the peasant question is entirely ignored.[1] [Footnote 1: The 'eyewitness' was Dr. Schaeffer, formerly tutor to Prince Carol.] Addressing himself, in 1871, to the Rumanian representative at the Porte, the Austrian ambassador, von Prokesch-Osten, remarked: 'If Prince Carol manages to pull through without outside help, and make Rumania governable, it will be the greatest _tour de force_ I have ever witnessed in my diplomatic career of more than half a century. It will be nothing less than a conjuring trick.' King Carol succeeded; and only those acquainted with Rumanian affairs can appreciate the truth of the ambassador's words. _7_ _Contemporary Period: Foreign Affairs_ Up to 1866 Rumanian foreign politics may be said to have been non-existent. The offensive or defensive alliances against the Turks concluded by the Rumanian rulers with neighbouring princes during the Middle Ages were not made in pursuance of any definite policy, but merely to meet the moment's need. With the establishment of Turkish suzerainty Rumania became a pawn in the foreign politics of the neighbouring empires, and we find her repeatedly included in their projects of acquisition, partition, or compensation (as, for instance, when she was put forward as eventual compensation to Poland for the territories lost by that country in the first partition).[1] Rumania may be considered fortunate in not having lost more than Bucovina to Austria (1775), Bessarabia to Russia (1812), and, temporarily, to Austria the region between the Danube and the Aluta, called Oltenia (lost by the Treaty of Passarowitz, 1718; recovered by the Treaty of Belgrade, 1739). [Footnote 1: See Albert Sorel, _The Eastern Question in the Eighteenth Century_ (Engl. ed.), 1898, pp. 141, 147 &c.] While her geographical position made of Rumania the cynosure of many covetous eyes, it at the same time saved her from individual attack by exciting countervailing jealousies. Moreover, the powers came at last to consider her a necessary rampart to the Ottoman Empire, whose dissolution all desired but none dared attempt. Austria and Russia, looking to the future, were continually competing for paramount influence in Rumania, though it is not possible to determine where their policy of acquisition ended and that of influence began. The position of the principalities became more secure after the Paris Congress of 1858, which placed them under the collective guarantee of the great powers; but this fact, and the maintenance of Turkish suzerainty, coupled with their own weakness, debarred them from any independence in their foreign relations. A sudden change took place with the accession of Prince Carol; a Hohenzollern prince related to the King of Prussia and to Napoleon III could not be treated like one of the native boyards. The situation called for the more delicacy of treatment by the powers in view of the possibility of his being able to better those internal conditions which made Rumania 'uninteresting' as a factor in international politics. In fact, the prince's personality assured for Rumania a status which she could otherwise have attained only with time, by a political, economic, and military consolidation of her home affairs; and the prince does not fail to remark in his notes that the attentions lavished upon him by other sovereigns were meant rather for the Hohenzollern prince than for the Prince of Rumania. Many years later even, after the war of 1878, while the Russians were still south of the Danube with their lines of communication running through Rumania, Bratianu begged of the prince to give up a projected journey on account of the difficulties which might at any moment arise, and said: 'Only the presence of your Royal Highness keeps them [the Russians] at a respectful distance.' It was but natural under these circumstances that the conduct of foreign affairs should have devolved almost exclusively on the prince. The ascendancy which his high personal character, his political and diplomatic skill, his military capacity procured for him over the Rumanian statesmen made this situation a lasting one; indeed it became almost a tradition. Rumania's foreign policy since 1866 may be said, therefore, to have been King Carol's policy. Whether one agrees with it or not, no one can deny with any sincerity that it was inspired by the interests of the country, as the monarch saw them. Rebuking Bismarck's unfair attitude towards Rumania in a question concerning German investors, Prince Carol writes to his father in 1875: 'I have to put Rumania's interests above those of Germany. My path is plainly mapped out, and I must follow It unflinchingly, whatever the weather.' Prince Carol was a thorough German, and as such naturally favoured the expansion of German influence among his new subjects. But if he desired Rumania to follow in the wake of German foreign policy, it was because of his unshaken faith in the future of his native country, because he considered that Rumania had nothing to fear from Germany, whilst it was all in the interest of that country to see Rumania strong and firmly established. At the same time, acting on the advice of Bismarck, he did not fail to work toward a better understanding with Russia, 'who might become as well a reliable friend as a dangerous enemy to the Rumanian state'. The sympathy shown him by Napoleon III was not always shared by the French statesmen,[1] and the unfriendly attitude of the French ambassador in Constantinople caused Prince Carol to remark that 'M. de Moustier is considered a better Turk than the Grand Turk himself'. Under the circumstances a possible alliance between France and Russia, giving the latter a free hand in the Near East, would have proved a grave danger to Rumania; 'it was, consequently, a skilful, if imperious act, to enter voluntarily, and without detriment to the existing friendly relations with France, within the Russian sphere of influence, and not to wait till compelled to do so.' [Footnote 1: See _Revue des Deux Mondes_, June 15, 1866, article by Eugène Forcade.] The campaigns of 1866 and 1870 having finally established Prussia's supremacy in the German world, Bismarck modified his attitude towards Austria. In an interview with the Austrian Foreign Secretary, Count Beust (Gastein, October 1871), he broached for the first time the question of an alliance and, touching upon the eventual dissolution of the Ottoman Empire, 'obligingly remarked that one could not conceive of a great power not making of its faculty for expansion a vital question'.[2] Quite in keeping with that change were the counsels henceforth tendered to Prince Carol. Early that year Bismarck wrote of his sorrow at having been forced to the conclusion that Rumania had nothing to expect from Russia, while Prince Anthony, Prince Carol's father and faithful adviser, wrote soon after the above interview (November 1871), that 'under certain circumstances it would seem a sound policy for Rumania to rely upon the support of Austria'. Persevering in this crescendo of suggestion, Austria's new foreign secretary, Count Andrassy, drifted at length to the point by plainly declaring not long afterwards that 'Rumania is not so unimportant that one should deprecate an alliance with her'. [Footnote 2: Gabriel Hanotaux, _La Guerre des Balkans et l'Europe_ (Beust, Mémoires), Paris, 1914, p. 297.] Prince Carol had accepted the throne with the firm intention of shaking off the Turkish suzerainty at the first opportunity, and not unnaturally he counted upon Germany's support to that end. He and his country were bitterly disappointed, therefore, when Bismarck appealed directly to the Porte for the settlement of a difference between the Rumanian Government and a German company entrusted with the construction of the Rumanian railways; the more so as the Paris Convention had expressly forbidden any Turkish interference in Rumania's internal affairs. It thus became increasingly evident that Rumania could not break away from Russia, the coming power in the East. The eyes of Russia were steadfastly fixed on Constantinople: by joining her, Rumania had the best chance of gaining her independence; by not doing so, she ran the risk of being trodden upon by Russia on her way to Byzantium. But though resolved to co-operate with Russia in any eventual action in the Balkans, Prince Carol skilfully avoided delivering himself blindfold into her hands by deliberately cutting himself away from the other guaranteeing powers. To the conference which met in Constantinople at the end of 1876 to settle Balkan affairs he addressed the demand that 'should war break out between one of the guaranteeing powers and Turkey, Rumania's line of conduct should be dictated, and her neutrality and rights guaranteed, by the other powers'. This _démarche_ failed. The powers had accepted the invitation to the conference as one accepts an invitation to visit a dying man. Nobody had any illusions on the possibility of averting war, least of all the two powers principally interested. In November 1876 Ali Bey and M. de Nelidov arrived simultaneously and secretly in Bucarest to sound Rumania as to an arrangement with their respective countries, Turkey and Russia. In opposition to his father and Count Andrassy, who counselled neutrality and the withdrawal of the Rumanian army into the mountains, and in sympathy with Bismarck's advice, Prince Carol concluded a Convention with Russia on April 16, 1877. Rumania promised to the Russian army 'free passage through Rumanian territory and the treatment due to a friendly army'; whilst Russia undertook to respect Rumania's political rights, as well as 'to maintain and defend her actual integrity'. 'It is pretty certain', wrote Prince Carol to his father, 'that this will not be to the liking of most of the great powers; but as they neither can nor will offer us anything, we cannot do otherwise than pass them by. A successful Russian campaign will free us from the nominal dependency upon Turkey, and Europe will never allow Russia to take her place.' On April 23 the Russian armies passed the Pruth. An offer of active participation by the Rumanian forces in the forthcoming campaign was rejected by the Tsar, who haughtily declared that 'Russia had no need for the cooperation of the Rumanian army', and that 'it was only under the auspices of the Russian forces that the foundation of Rumania's future destinies could be laid'. Rumania was to keep quiet and accept in the end what Russia would deign to give her, or, to be more correct, take from her. After a few successful encounters, however, the Tsar's soldiers met with serious defeats before Plevna, and persistent appeals were now urged for the participation of the Rumanian army in the military operations. The moment had come for Rumania to bargain for her interests. But Prince Carol refused to make capital out of the serious position of the Russians; he led his army across the Danube and, at the express desire of the Tsar, took over the supreme command of the united forces before Plevna. After a glorious but terrible struggle Plevna, followed at short intervals by other strongholds, fell, the peace preliminaries were signed, and Prince Carol returned to Bucarest at the head of his victorious army. Notwithstanding the flattering words in which the Tsar spoke of the Rumanian share in the success of the campaign, Russia did not admit Rumania to the Peace Conference. By the Treaty of San Stefano (March 3,1878) Rumania's independence was recognized; Russia obtained from Turkey the Dobrudja and the delta of the Danube, reserving for herself the right to exchange these territories against the three southern districts of Bessarabia, restored to Rumania by the Treaty of Paris, 1856. This stipulation was by no means a surprise to Rumania, Russia's intention to recover Bessarabia was well known to the Government, who hoped, however, that the demand would not be pressed after the effective assistance rendered by the Rumanian army. 'If this be not a ground for the extension of our territory, it is surely none for its diminution,' remarked Cogalniceanu at the Berlin Congress. Moreover, besides the promises of the Tsar, there was the Convention of the previous year, which, in exchange for nothing more than free passage for the Russian armies, guaranteed Rumania's integrity. But upon this stipulation Gorchakov put the jesuitical construction that, the Convention being concluded in view of a war to be waged against Turkey, it was only against Turkey that Russia undertook to guarantee Rumania's integrity; as to herself, she was not in the least bound by that arrangement. And should Rumania dare to protest against, or oppose the action of the Russian Government, 'the Tsar will order that Rumania be occupied and the Rumanian army disarmed'. 'The army which fought at Plevna', replied Prince Carol through his minister, 'may well be destroyed, but never disarmed.' There was one last hope left to Rumania: that the Congress which met in Berlin in June 1878 for the purpose of revising the Treaty of San Stefano, would prevent such an injustice. But Bismarck was anxious that no 'sentiment de dignité blessée' should rankle in Russia's future policy; the French representative, Waddington, was 'above all a practical man'; Corti, the Italian delegate, was 'nearly rude' to the Rumanian delegates; while Lord Beaconsfield, England's envoy, receiving the Rumanian delegates privately, had nothing to say but that 'in politics the best services are often rewarded with ingratitude'. Russia strongly opposed even the idea that the Rumanian delegates should be allowed to put their case before the Congress, and consent was obtained only with difficulty after Lord Salisbury had ironically remarked that 'having heard the representatives of Greece, which was claiming foreign provinces, it would be but fair to listen also to the representatives of a country which was only seeking to retain what was its own'. Shortly before, Lord Salisbury, speaking in London to the Rumanian special envoy, Callimaki Catargiu, had assured him of England's sympathy and of her effective assistance in case either of war or of a Congress. 'But to be quite candid he must add that there are questions of more concern to England, and should she be able to come to an understanding with Russia with regard to them, she would not wage war for the sake of Rumania.' Indeed, an understanding came about, and an indiscretion enabled the _Globe_ to make its tenor public early in June 1878. 'The Government of her Britannic Majesty', it said, 'considers that it will feel itself bound to express its deep regret should Russia persist in demanding the retrocession of Bessarabia.... England's interest in this question is not such, however, as to justify her taking upon herself alone the responsibility of opposing the intended exchange.' So Bessarabia was lost, Rumania receiving instead Dobrudja with the delta of the Danube. But as the newly created state of Bulgaria was at the time little else than a detached Russian province, Russia, alone amongst the powers, opposed and succeeded in preventing the demarcation to the new Rumanian province of a strategically sound frontier. Finally, to the exasperation of the Rumanians, the Congress made the recognition of Rumania's independence contingent upon the abolition of Article 7 of the Constitution--which denied to non-Christians the right of becoming Rumanian citizens--and the emancipation of the Rumanian Jews.[1] [Footnote 1: Rumania only partially gave way to this intrusion of the powers into her internal affairs. The prohibition was abolished; but only individual naturalization was made possible, and that by special Act of Parliament. Only a very small proportion of the Jewish population has since been naturalized. The Jewish question in Rumania is undoubtedly a very serious one; but the matter is too controversial to be dealt with in a few lines without risking misrepresentation or doing an injustice to one or other of the parties. For which reason it has not been included in this essay.] It was only after innumerable difficulties and hardships that, at the beginning of 1880, Rumania secured recognition of an independence which she owed to nobody but herself. Whilst Russia was opposing Rumania at every opportunity in the European conferences and commissions, she was at pains to show herself more amenable in _tête-à-tête_, and approached Rumania with favourable proposals. 'Rather Russia as foe than guardian,' wrote Prince Carol to his father; and these words indicate an important turning-point in Rumania's foreign policy. In wresting Bessarabia from Rumania merely as a sop to her own pride, and to make an end of all that was enacted by the Treaty of Paris, 1856, Russia made a serious political blunder. By insisting that Austria should share in the partition of Poland, Frederick the Great had skilfully prevented her from remaining the one country towards which the Poles would naturally have turned for deliverance. Such an opportunity was lost by Russia through her short-sighted policy in Bessarabia--that of remaining the natural ally of Rumania against Rumania's natural foe, Austria-Hungary. Rumania had neither historical, geographical, nor any important ethnographical points of contact with the region south of the Danube; the aims of a future policy could only have embraced neighbouring tracts of foreign territory inhabited by Rumanians. Whereas up to the date of the Berlin Congress such tracts were confined to Austria-Hungary, by that Congress a similar sphere of attraction for Rumanian aspirations was created in Russia.[1] The interests of a peaceful development demanded that Rumania should maintain friendly relations with both the powers striving for domination in the Near East; it was a vital necessity for her, however, to be able to rely upon the effective support of at least one of them in a case of emergency. Russia's conduct had aroused a deep feeling of bitterness and mistrust in Rumania, and every lessening of her influence was a step in Austria's favour. Secondary considerations tended to intensify this: on the one hand lay the fact that through Russia's interposition Rumania had no defendable frontier against Bulgaria; on the other hand was the greatly strengthened position created for Austria by her alliance with Germany, in whose future Prince Carol had the utmost confidence. [Footnote 1: It is probable that this confederation had much to do with the readiness with which Bismarck supported the demands of his good friend, Gorchakov.] Germany's attitude towards Rumania had been curiously hostile during these events; but when Prince Carol's father spoke of this to the German Emperor, the latter showed genuine astonishment: Bismarck had obviously not taken the emperor completely into his confidence. When, a few days later, Sturdza had an interview with Bismarck at the latter's invitation, the German Chancellor discovered once more that Rumania had nothing to expect from Russia. Indeed, Rumania's position between Russia and the new Slav state south of the Danube might prove dangerous, were she not to seek protection and assistance from her two 'natural friends', France and Germany. And, with his usual liberality when baiting his policy with false hopes, Bismarck went on to say that 'Turkey is falling to pieces; nobody can resuscitate her; Rumania has an important role to fulfil, but for this she must be wise, cautious, and strong'. This new attitude was the natural counterpart of the change which was at that time making itself felt in Russo-German relations. While a Franco-Russian alliance was propounded by Gorchakov in an interview with a French journalist, Bismarck and Andrassy signed in Gastein the treaty which allied Austria to Germany (September 1879). As Rumania's interests were identical with those of Austria--wrote Count Andrassy privately to Prince Carol a few months later--namely, to prevent the fusion of the northern and the southern Slavs, she had only to express her willingness to become at a given moment the third party in the compact. In 1883 King Carol accepted a secret treaty of defensive alliance from Austria. In return for promises relating to future political partitions in the Balkans, the monarch pledged himself to oppose all developments likely to speed the democratic evolution, of Rumania. Though the treaty was never submitted to parliament for ratification, and notwithstanding a tariff war and a serious difference with Austria on the question of control of the Danube navigation, Rumania was, till the Balkan wars, a faithful 'sleeping partner' of the Triple Alliance. All through that externally quiet period a marked discrepancy existed and developed between that line of policy and the trend of public opinion. The interest of the Rumanians within the kingdom centred increasingly on their brethren in Transylvania, the solution of whose hard case inspired most of the popular national movements. Not on account of the political despotism of the Magyars, for that of the Russians was in no way behind it. But whilst the Rumanians of Bessarabia were, with few exceptions, illiterate peasants, in Transylvania there was a solidly established and spirited middle class, whose protests kept pace with the oppressive measures. Many of them--and of necessity the more turbulent--migrated to Rumania, and there kept alive the 'Transylvanian Question'. That the country's foreign policy has nevertheless constantly supported the Central Powers is due, to some extent, to the fact that the generation most deeply impressed by the events of 1878 came gradually to the leadership of the country; to a greater extent to the increasing influence of German education,[1] and the economic and financial supremacy which the benevolent passivity of England and France enabled Germany to acquire; but above all to the personal influence of King Carol. Germany, he considered, was at the beginning of her development and needed, above all, peace; as Rumania was in the same position the wisest policy was to follow Germany, neglecting impracticable national ideals. King Carol outlined his views clearly in an interview which he had in Vienna with the Emperor Franz Joseph in 1883: 'No nation consents to be bereaved of its political aspirations, and those of the Rumanians are constantly kept at fever heat by Magyar oppression. But this was no real obstacle to a friendly understanding between the two neighbouring states.' [Footnote 1: Many prominent statesmen like Sturdza, Maiorescu, Carp, &c. were educated in Germany, whereas the school established by the German community (_Evangelische Knaben und Realschule_), and which it under the direct control of the German Ministry of Education, is attended by more pupils than any other school in Bucarest.] Such was the position when the Balkan peoples rose in 1912 to sever the last ties which bound them to the decadent Turkish Empire. King Carol, who had, sword in hand, won the independence of his country, could have no objection to such a desire for emancipation. Nor to the Balkan League itself, unfortunately so ephemeral; for by the first year of his reign he had already approached the Greek Government with proposals toward such a league, and toward freeing the Balkans from the undesirable interference of the powers.[1] It is true that Rumania, like all the other states, had not foreseen the radical changes which were to take place, and which considerably affected her position in the Near East. But she was safe as long as the situation was one of stable equilibrium and the league remained in existence. 'Rumania will only be menaced by a real danger when a Great Bulgaria comes into existence,' remarked Prince Carol to Bismarck in 1880, and Bulgaria had done nothing since to allay Rumanian suspicions. On the contrary, the proviso of the Berlin Convention that all fortifications along the Rumania frontier should be razed to the ground had not been carried out by the Bulgarian Government. Bulgarian official publications regarded the Dobrudja as a 'Bulgaria Irredenta', and at the outset of the first Balkan war a certain section of the Bulgarian press speculated upon the Bulgarian character of the Dobrudja. [Footnote 1: See Augenzeuge, op. cit., i. 178] The Balkan League having proclaimed, however, that their action did not involve any territorial changes, and the maintenance of the _status quo_ having been insisted upon by the European Concert, Rumania declared that she would remain neutral. All this jugglery of mutual assurances broke down with the unexpected rout of the Turks; the formula 'the Balkans to the Balkan peoples' made its appearance, upon which Bulgaria was at once notified that Rumania would insist upon the question of the Dobrudja frontier being included in any fundamental alteration of the Berlin Convention. The Bulgarian Premier, M. Danev, concurred in this point of view, but his conduct of the subsequent London negotiations was so 'diplomatic' that their only result was to strain the patience of the Rumanian Government and public opinion to breaking point. Nevertheless, the Rumanian Government agreed that the point in dispute should be submitted to a conference of the representatives of the great powers in St. Petersburg, and later accepted the decision of that conference, though the country considered it highly unsatisfactory. The formation of the Balkan League, and especially the collapse of Turkey, had meant a serious blow to the Central Powers' policy of peaceful penetration. Moreover, 'for a century men have been labouring to solve the Eastern. Question. On the day when it shall be considered solved, Europe will inevitably witness the propounding of the Austrian Question.'[1] To prevent this and to keep open a route to the East Austro-German diplomacy set to work, and having engineered the creation of Albania succeeded in barring Serbia's way to the Adriatic; Serbia was thus forced to seek an outlet in the south, where her interests were doomed to clash with Bulgarian aspirations. The atmosphere grew threatening. In anticipation of a conflict with Bulgaria, Greece and Serbia sought an alliance with Rumania. The offer was declined; but, in accordance with the policy which Bucarest had already made quite clear to Sofia, the Rumanian army was ordered to enter Bulgaria immediately that country attacked her former allies. The Rumanians advanced unopposed to within a few miles of Sofia, and in order to save the capital Bulgaria declared her willingness to comply with their claims. Rumania having refused, however, to conclude a separate peace, Bulgaria had to give way, and the Balkan premiers met in conference at Bucarest to discuss terms. The circumstances were not auspicious. The way in which Bulgaria had conducted previous negotiations, and especially the attack upon her former allies, had exasperated the Rumanians and the Balkan peoples, and the pressure of public opinion hindered from the outset a fair consideration of the Bulgarian point of view. Moreover, cholera was making great ravages in the ranks of the various armies, and, what threatened to be even more destructive, several great powers were looking for a crack in the door to put their tails through, as the Rumanian saying runs. So anxious were the Balkan statesmen to avoid any such interference that they agreed between themselves to a short time limit: on a certain day, and by a certain hour, peace was to be concluded, or hostilities were to start afresh. The treaty was signed on August 10, 1913, Rumania obtaining the line Turtukai-Dobrich-Balchik, this being the line already demanded by her at the time of the London negotiations. The demand was put forth originally as a security against the avowed ambitions of Bulgaria; it was a strategical necessity, but at the same time a political mistake from the point of view of future relations. The Treaty of Bucarest, imperfect arrangement as it was, had nevertheless a great historical significance. 'Without complicating the discussion of our interests, which we are best in a position to understand, by the consideration of other foreign, interests,' remarked the President of the Conference, 'we shall have established for the first time by ourselves peace and harmony amongst our peoples.' Dynastic interests and impatient ambitions, however, completely subverted this momentous step towards a satisfactory solution of the Eastern Question. [Footnote 1: Albert Sorel, op, cit., p. 266.] The natural counter-effect of the diplomatic activity of the Central Powers was a change in Rumanian policy. Rumania considered the maintenance of the Balkan equilibrium a vital question, and as she had entered upon a closer union with Germany against a Bulgaria subjected to Russian influence, so she now turned to Russia as a guard against a Bulgaria under German influence. This breaking away from the 'traditional' policy of adjutancy-in-waiting to the Central Powers was indicated by the visit of Prince Ferdinand--now King of Rumania--to St. Petersburg, and the even more significant visit which Tsar Nicholas afterwards paid to the late King Carol at Constanza. Time has been too short, however, for those new relations so to shape themselves as to exercise a notable influence upon Rumania's present attitude. 8 _Rumania and the Present War_ _(a) The Rumanians outside the Kingdom_ The axis on which Rumanian foreign policy ought naturally to revolve is the circumstance that almost half the Rumanian nation lives outside Rumanian territory. As the available official statistics generally show political bias it is not possible to give precise figures; but roughly speaking there are about one million Rumanians in Bessarabia, a quarter of a million in Bucovina, three and a half millions in Hungary, while something above half a million form scattered colonies in Bulgaria, Serbia, and Macedonia. All these live in more or less close proximity to the Rumanian frontiers. That these Rumanian elements have maintained their nationality is due to purely intrinsic causes. We have seen that the independence of Rumania in her foreign relations had only recently been established, since when the king, the factor most influential in foreign politics, had discouraged nationalist tendencies, lest the country's internal development might be compromised by friction with neighbouring states. The Government exerted its influence against any active expression of the national feeling, and the few 'nationalists' and the 'League for the cultural unity of all Rumanians' had been, as a consequence, driven to seek a justification for their existence in antisemitic agitation. The above circumstances had little influence upon the situation in Bucovina. This province forms an integral part of the Habsburg monarchy, with which it was incorporated as early as 1775. The political situation of the Rumanian principalities at the time, and the absence of a national cultural movement, left the detached population exposed to Germanization, and later to the Slav influence of the rapidly expanding Ruthene element. That language and national characteristics have, nevertheless, not been lost is due to the fact that the Rumanian population of Bucovina is peasant almost to a man--a class little amenable to changes of civilization. This also applies largely to Bessarabia, which, first lost in 1812, was incorporated with Rumania in 1856, and finally detached in 1878. The few Rumanians belonging to the landed class were won over by the new masters. But while the Rumanian population was denied any cultural and literary activities of its own, the reactionary attitude of the Russian Government towards education has enabled the Rumanian peasants to preserve their customs and their language. At the same time their resultant ignorance has kept them outside the sphere of intellectual influence of the mother country. The Rumanians who live in scattered colonies south of the Danube are the descendants of those who took refuge in these regions during the ninth and tenth centuries from the invasions of the Huns. Generally known as Kutzo-Vlakhs, or, among themselves, as Aromuni, they are--as even Weigand, who undoubtedly has Bulgarophil leanings, recognizes--the most intelligent and best educated of the inhabitants of Macedonia. In 1905 the Rumanian Government secured from the Porte official recognition of their separate cultural and religious organizations on a national basis. Exposed as they are to Greek influence, it will be difficult to prevent their final assimilation with that people. The interest taken in them of late by the Rumanian Government arose out of the necessity to secure them against pan-Hellenic propaganda, and to preserve one of the factors entitling Rumania to participate in the settlement of Balkan affairs. I have sketched elsewhere the early history of the Rumanians of Transylvania, the cradle of the Rumanian nation. As already mentioned, part of the Rumanian nobility of Hungary went over to the Magyars, the remainder migrating over the mountains. Debarred from the support of the noble class, the Rumanian peasantry lost its state of autonomy, which changed into one of serfdom to the soil upon which they toiled. Desperate risings in 1324, 1437, 1514, 1600, and 1784 tended to case the Hungarian oppression, which up to the nineteenth century strove primarily after a political and religious hegemony. But the Magyars having failed in 1848 in their attempt to free themselves from Austrian domination (defeated with the assistance of a Russian army at Villagos, 1849), mainly on account of the fidelity of the other nationalities to the Austrian Crown, they henceforth directed their efforts towards strengthening their own position by forcible assimilation of those nationalities. This they were able to do, however, only after Königgrätz, when a weakened Austria had to give way to Hungarian demands. In 1867 the Dual Monarchy was established, and Transylvania, which up to then formed a separate duchy enjoying full political rights, was incorporated with the new Hungarian kingdom. The Magyars were handicapped in their imperialist ambitions by their numerical inferiority. As the next best means to their end, therefore, they resorted to political and national oppression, class despotism, and a complete disregard of the principles of liberty and humanity.[1] Hungarian was made compulsory in the administration, even in districts where the bulk of the population did not understand that language. In villages completely inhabited by Rumanians so-called 'State' schools were founded, in which only Hungarian was to be spoken, and all children upwards of three years of age had to attend them. The electoral regulations were drawn up in such a manner that the Rumanians of Transylvania, though ten times more numerous than the Magyars, sent a far smaller number than do the latter to the National Assembly. To quash all protest a special press law was introduced for Transylvania. But the Rumanian journalists being usually acquitted by the juries a new regulation prescribed that press offences should be tried only at Kluj (Klausenburg)--the sole Transylvanian town with a predominating Hungarian population--a measure which was in fundamental contradiction to the principles of justice.[2] In 1892 the Rumanian grievances were embodied in a memorandum which was to have been presented to the emperor by a deputation. An audience was, however, refused, and at the instance of the Hungarian Government the members of the deputation were sentenced to long terms of imprisonment for having plotted against the unity of the Magyar state. [Footnote 1: The Rumanians inhabit mainly the province of Transylvania, Banat, Crishiana, and Maramuresh. They represent 46.2 per cent. of the total population of these provinces, the Magyars 32.5 per cent., the Germans 11.5 per cent., and the Serbs 4.5 per cent. These figured are taken from official Hungarian statistics, and it may therefore be assumed that the Rumanian percentage represents a minimum.] [Footnote 2: Over a period of 22 years (1886-1908) 850 journalists were charged, 367 of whom were Rumanians; the sentences totalling 216 years of imprisonment, the fines amounting to Fcs. 138,000.] Notwithstanding these disabilities the Rumanians of Transylvania enjoyed a long period of comparative social and economic liberty at a time when Turkish and Phanariote domination was hampering all progress in Rumania. Office under the Government growing increasingly difficult to obtain, the Rumanians in Transylvania turned largely to commercial and the open professions, and, as a result, a powerful middle class now exists. In their clergy, both of the Orthodox and the Uniate Church--which last, while conducting its ritual in the vernacular, recognizes papal supremacy-- the Rumanians have always found strong moral support, while the national struggle tends to unite the various classes. The Rumanians of Hungary form by far the sanest element in the Rumanian nation. From the Rumanians within the kingdom they have received little beside sympathy. The important part played by the country at the Peace of Bucarest, and her detachment from Austria-Hungary, must necessarily have stimulated the national consciousness of the Transylvanians; while at the same time all hope for betterment from within must have ceased at the death of Archduke Francis Ferdinand, an avowed friend of the long-suffering nationalities. It is, therefore, no mere matter of conjecture that the passive attitude of the Rumanian Government at the beginning of the present conflict must have been a bitter disappointment to them. _(b) Rumania's Attitude_ The tragic development of the crisis in the summer of 1914 threw Rumania into a vortex of unexpected hopes and fears. Aspirations till then considered little else than Utopian became tangible possibilities, while, as suddenly, dangers deemed far off loomed large and near. Not only was such a situation quite unforeseen, nor had any plan of action been preconceived to meet it, but it was in Rumania's case a situation unique from the number of conflicting considerations and influences at work within it. Still under the waning influence of the thirty years quasi-alliance with Austria, Rumania was not yet acclimatized to her new relations with Russia. Notwithstanding the inborn sympathy with and admiration for France, the Rumanians could not be blind to Germany's military power. The enthusiasm that would have sided with France for France's sake was faced by the influence of German finance. Sympathy with Serbia existed side by side with suspicion of Bulgaria. Popular sentiment clashed with the views of the king; and the bright vision of the 'principle of nationality' was darkened by the shadow of Russia as despot of the Near East. One fact in the situation stood out from the rest, namely, the unexpected opportunity of redeeming that half of the Rumanian nation which was still under foreign rule; the more so as one of the parties in the conflict had given the 'principle of nationality' a prominent place in its programme. But the fact that both Austria-Hungary and Russia had a large Rumanian population among their subjects rendered a purely national policy impossible, and Rumania could do nothing but weigh which issue offered her the greater advantage. Three ways lay open: complete neutrality, active participation on the side of the Central Powers, or common cause with the Triple Entente. Complete neutrality was advocated by a few who had the country's material security most at heart, and also, as a _pis aller_, by those who realized that their opinion that Rumania should make common cause with the Central Powers had no prospect of being acted upon. That King Carol favoured the idea of a joint action with Germany is likely enough, for such a policy was in keeping with his faith in the power of the German Empire. Moreover, he undoubtedly viewed with satisfaction the possibility of regaining Bessarabia, the loss of which must have been bitterly felt by the victor of Plevna. Such a policy would have met with the approval of many Rumanian statesmen, notably of M. Sturdza, sometime leader of the Liberal party and Prime Minister; of M. Carp, sometime leader of the Conservative party and Prime Minister; of M. Maiorescu, ex-Prime Minister and Foreign Secretary, who presided at the Bucarest Conference of 1913; of M. Marghiloman, till recently leader of the Conservative party, to name only the more important. M. Sturdza, the old statesman who had been one of King Carol's chief coadjutors in the making of modern Rumania, and who had severed for many years his connexion with active politics, again took up his pen to raise a word of warning. M. Carp, the political aristocrat who had retired from public life a few years previously, and had professed a lifelong contempt for the 'Press and all its works', himself started a daily paper (_Moldova_) which, he intended should expound his views. Well-known writers like M. Radu Rosetti wrote[1] espousing the cause favoured by the king, though not for the king's reasons: Carol had faith in Germany, the Rumanians mistrusted Russia. They saw no advantage in the dismemberment of Austria, the most powerful check to Russia's plans in the Near East. They dreaded the idea of seeing Russia on the Bosphorus, as rendering illusory Rumania's splendid position at the mouth of the Danube. For not only is a cheap waterway absolutely necessary for the bulky products forming the chief exports of Rumania; but these very products, corn, petroleum, and timber, also form the chief exports of Russia, who, by a stroke of the pen, may rule Rumania out of competition, should she fail to appreciate the political leadership of Petrograd. Paris and Rome were, no doubt, beloved sisters; but Sofia, Moscow, and Budapest were next-door neighbours to be reckoned with. [Footnote 1: See R. Rosetti, _Russian Politics at Work in the Rumanian Countries_, facts compiled from French official documents, Bucarest, 1914.] Those who held views opposed to those, confident in the righteousness of the Allies' cause and in their final victory, advocated immediate intervention, and to that end made the most of the two sentiments which animated public opinion: interest in the fate of the Transylvanians, and sympathy with France. They contended that though a purely national policy was not possible, the difference between Transylvania and Bessarabia in area and in number and quality of the population was such that no hesitation was admissible. The possession of Transylvania was assured if the Allies were successful; whereas Russia would soon recover if defeated, and would regain Bessarabia by force of arms, or have it once more presented to her by a Congress anxious to soothe her 'sentiment de dignité blessée'. A Rumania enlarged in size and population had a better chance of successfully withstanding any eventual pressure from the north, and it was clear that any attempt against her independence would be bound to develop into a European question. Rumania could not forget what she owed to France; and if circumstances had made the Transylvanian question one 'à laquelle on pense toujours et dont on ne parle jamais', the greater was the duty, now that a favourable opportunity had arisen, to help the brethren across the mountains. It was also a duty to fight for right and civilization, proclaimed M. Take Ionescu, the exponent of progressive ideas in Rumanian politics; and he, together with the prominent Conservative statesman, M. Filipescu, who loathes the idea of the Rumanians being dominated by the inferior Magyars, are the leaders of the interventionist movement. It was due to M. Filipescu's activity, especially, that M. Marghiloman was forced by his own party to resign his position as leader on account of his Austrophil sentiments--an event unparalleled in Rumanian politics. These were the two main currents of opinion which met in conflict at the Crown Council--a committee _ad hoc_ consisting of the Cabinet and the leaders of the Opposition--summoned by the king early in August 1914, when Rumania's neutrality was decided upon. The great influence which the Crown can always wield under the Rumanian political system was rendered the more potent in the present case by the fact that the Premier, M. Bratianu, is above all a practical man, and the Liberal Cabinet over which he presides one of the most colourless the country ever had: a Cabinet weak to the point of being incapable of realizing its own weakness and the imperative necessity at this fateful moment of placing the helm in the hands of a national ministry. M. Bratianu considered that Rumania was too exposed, and had suffered too much in the past for the sake of other countries, to enter now upon such an adventure without ample guarantees. There would always be time for her to come in. This policy of opportunism he was able to justify by powerful argument. The supply of war material for the Rumanian army had been completely in the hands of German and Austrian arsenals, and especially in those of Krupp. For obvious reasons Rumania could no longer rely upon that source; indeed, Germany was actually detaining contracts for war and sanitary material placed with her before the outbreak of the war. There was the further consideration that, owing to the nature of Rumania's foreign policy in the past, no due attention had been given to the defence of the Carpathians, nor to those branches of the service dealing with mountain warfare. On the other hand, a continuous line of fortifications running from Galatz to Focshani formed, together with the lower reaches of the Danube, a strong barrier against attack from the north. Rumania's geographical position is such that a successful offensive from Hungary could soon penetrate to the capital, and by cutting the country in two could completely paralyse its organization. Such arguments acquired a magnified importance in the light of the failure of the negotiations with Bulgaria, and found many a willing ear in a country governed by a heavily involved landed class, and depending almost exclusively in its banking organization upon German and Austrian capital. From the point of view of practical politics only the issue of the conflict will determine the wisdom or otherwise of Rumania's attitude. But, though it is perhaps out of place to enlarge upon it here, it is impossible not to speak of the moral aspect of the course adopted. By giving heed to the unspoken appeal from Transylvania the Rumanian national spirit would have been quickened, and the people braced to a wholesome sacrifice. Many were the wistful glances cast towards the Carpathians by the subject Rumanians, as they were being led away to fight for their oppressors; but, wilfully unmindful, the leaders of the Rumanian state buried their noses in their ledgers, oblivious of the fact that in these times of internationalism a will in common, with aspirations in common, is the very life-blood of nationality. That sentiment ought not to enter into politics is an argument untenable in a country which has yet to see its national aspirations fulfilled, and which makes of these aspirations definite claims. No Rumanian statesman can contend that possession of Transylvania is necessary to the existence of the Rumanian state. What they can maintain is that deliverance from Magyar oppression is vital to the existence of the Transylvanians. The right to advance such a claim grows out of their very duty of watching over the safety of the subject Rumanians. 'When there are squabbles in the household of my brother-in-law,' said the late Ioan Bratianu when speaking on the Transylvanian question, 'it is no affair of mine; but when he raises a knife against his wife, it is not merely my right to intervene, it is my duty.' It is difficult to account for the obliquity of vision shown by so many Rumanian politicians. 'The whole policy of such a state [having a large compatriot population living in close proximity under foreign domination] must be primarily influenced by anxiety as to the fate of their brothers, and by the duty of emancipating them,' affirms one of the most ardent of Rumanian nationalist orators; and he goes on to assure us that 'if Rumania waits, it is not from hesitation as to her duty, but simply in order that she may discharge it more completely'.[1] Meantime, while Rumania waits, regiments composed almost completely of Transylvanians have been repeatedly and of set purpose placed in the forefront of the battle, and as often annihilated. Such could never be the simple-hearted Rumanian peasant's conception of his duty, and here, as in so many other cases in the present conflict, the nation at large must not be judged by the policy of the few who hold the reins. [Footnote 1: _Quarterly Review_, London, April, 1915, pp. 449-50.] Rumania's claims to Transylvania are not of an historical nature. They are founded upon the numerical superiority of the subject Rumanians in Transylvania, that is upon the 'principle of nationality', and are morally strengthened by the treatment the Transylvanians suffer at the hands of the Magyars. By its passivity, however, the Rumanian Government has sacrificed the prime factor of the 'principle of nationality' to the attainment of an object in itself subordinate to that factor; that is, it has sacrificed the 'people' in order to make more sure of the 'land'. In this way the Rumanian Government has entered upon a policy of acquisition; a policy which Rumania is too weak to pursue save under the patronage of one or a group of great powers; a policy unfortunate inasmuch as it will deprive her of freedom of action in her external politics. Her policy will, in its consequences, certainly react to the detriment of the position acquired by the country two years ago, when independent action made her arbiter not only among the smaller Balkan States, but also among those and her late suzerain, Turkey. Such, indeed, must inevitably be the fate of Balkan politics in general. Passing from Turkish domination to nominal Turkish suzerainty, and thence to independence within the sphere of influence of a power or group of powers, this gradual emancipation of the states of south-eastern Europe found its highest expression in the Balkan League. The war against Turkey was in effect a rebellion against the political tutelage of the powers. But this emancipation was short-lived. By their greed the Balkan States again opened up a way to the intrusion of foreign diplomacy, and even, as we now see, of foreign troops. The first Balkan war marked the zenith of Balkan political emancipation; the second Balkan war was the first act in the tragic _débâcle_ out of which the present situation developed. The interval between August 1913 (Peace of Bucarest) and August 1914 was merely an armistice during which Bulgaria and Turkey recovered their breath, and German and Austrian diplomacy had time to find a pretext for war on its own account. 'Exhausted but not vanquished we have had to furl our glorious standards in order to await better days,' said Ferdinand of Bulgaria to his soldiers after the conclusion of the Peace of Bucarest; and Budapest, Vienna, and Berlin have no doubt done their best to keep this spirit of revenge alive and to prevent a renascence of the Balkan Alliance. They have succeeded. They have done more: they have succeeded in causing the 'principle of nationality'--that idea which involves the disruption of Austria--to be stifled by the very people whom it was meant to save. For whilst the German peoples are united in this conflict, the majority of the southern Slavs, in fighting the German battles, are fighting to perpetuate the political servitude of the subject races of Austria-Hungary. However suspicious Rumania may be of Russia, however bitter the quarrels between Bulgars, Greeks, and Serbs, it is not, nor can it ever be natural, that peoples who have groaned under Turkish despotism for centuries should, after only one year of complete liberation, join hands with an old and dreaded enemy not only against their fellow sufferers, but even against those who came 'to die that they may live'. These are the Dead Sea fruits of dynastic policy. Called to the thrones of the small states of the Near East for the purpose of creating order and peace, the German dynasties have overstepped their function and abused the power entrusted to them. As long as, in normal times, political activities were confined to the diplomatic arena there was no peril of rousing the masses out of their ignorant indolence; but, when times are abnormal, it is a different and a dangerous thing to march these peoples against their most intimate feelings. When, as the outcome of the present false situation, sooner or later the dynastic power breaks, it will then be for the powers who are now fighting for better principles not to impose their own views upon the peoples, or to place their own princes upon the vacant thrones. Rather must they see that the small nations of the Near East are given a chance to develop in peace and according to their proper ideals; that they be not again subjected to the disintegrating influence of European diplomacy; and that, above all, to the nations in common, irrespective of their present attitude, there should be a just application of the 'principle of nationality'. TURKEY Turkey is no better name for the Osmanli dominion or any part of it than Normandy would be for Great Britain. It is a mediaeval error of nomenclature sanctioned by long usage in foreign mouths, but without any equivalent in the vernacular of the Osmanlis themselves. The real 'Turkey' is Turkestan, and the real Turks are the Turcomans. The Osmanlis are the least typical Turks surviving. Only a very small proportion of them have any strain of Turkish blood, and this is diluted till it is rarely perceptible in their physiognomy: and if environment rather than blood is to be held responsible for racial features, it can only be said that the territory occupied by the Osmanlis is as unlike the homeland of the true Turks as it can well be, and is quite unsuited to typically Turkish life and manners. While of course it would be absurd to propose at this time of day any change in the terms by which the civilized world unanimously designates the Osmanlis and their dominion, it is well to insist on their incorrectness, because, like most erroneous names, they have bred erroneous beliefs. Thanks in the main to them, the Ottoman power is supposed to have originated in an overwhelming invasion of Asia Minor by immense numbers of Central Asiatic migrants, who, intent, like the early Arab armies, on offering to Asia first and Europe second the choice of apostasy or death, absorbed or annihilated almost all the previous populations, and swept forward into the Balkans as single-minded apostles of Islam. If the composition and the aims of the Osmanlis had been these, it would pass all understanding how they contrived, within a century of their appearance on the western scene, to establish in North-west Asia and South-east Europe the most civilized and best-ordered state of their time. Who, then, are the Osmanlis in reality? What have they to do with true Turks? and in virtue of what innate qualities did they found and consolidate their power? 1 _Origin of the Osmanlis_ We hear of Turks first from Chinese sources. They were then the inhabitants, strong and predatory, of the Altai plains and valleys: but later on, about the sixth century A.D., they are found firmly established in what is still called Turkestan, and pushing westwards towards the Caspian Sea. Somewhat more than another century passes, and, reached by a missionary faith of West Asia, they come out of the Far Eastern darkness into a dim light of western history. One Boja, lord of Kashgar and Khan of what the Chinese knew as the people of Thu-Kiu--probably the same name as 'Turk'--embraced Islam and forced it on his Mazdeist subjects; but other Turkish tribes, notably the powerful Uighurs, remained intolerant of the new dispensation, and expelled the Thu-Kiu _en masse_ from their holding in Turkestan into Persia. Here they distributed themselves in detached hordes over the north and centre. At this day, in some parts of Persia, e.g. Azerbaijan, Turks make the bulk of the population besides supplying the reigning dynasty of the whole kingdom. For the Shahs of the Kajar house are not Iranian, but purely Turkish. This, it should be observed, was the western limit of Turkish expansion in the mass. Azerbaijan is the nearest region to us in which Turki blood predominates, and the westernmost province of the true Turk homeland. All Turks who have passed thence into Hither Asia have come in comparatively small detachments, as minorities to alien majorities. They have invaded as groups of nomads seeking vacant pasturage, or as bands of military adventurers who, first offering their swords to princes of the elder peoples, have subsequently, on several occasions and in several localities, imposed themselves on their former masters. To the first category belong all those Turcoman, Avshar, Yuruk, and other Turki tribes, which filtered over the Euphrates into unoccupied or sparsely inhabited parts of Syria and Asia Minor from the seventh century onwards, and survive to this day in isolated patches, distinguished from the mass of the local populations, partly by an ineradicable instinct for nomadic life, partly by retention of the pre-Islamic beliefs and practices of the first immigrants. In the second category--military adventurers--fall, for example, the Turkish praetorians who made and unmade not less than four caliphs at Bagdad in the ninth century, and that bold _condottiere_, Ahmed ibn Tulun, who captured a throne at Cairo. Even Christian emperors availed themselves of these stout fighters. Theophilus of Constantinople anticipated the Ottoman invasion of Europe by some five hundred years when he established Vardariote Turks in Macedonia. The most important members of the second category, however, were the Seljuks. Like the earlier Thu-Kiu, they were pushed out of Turkestan late in the tenth century to found a power in Persia. Here, in Khorasan, the mass of the horde settled and remained: and it was only a comparatively small section which went on westward as military adventurers to fall upon Bagdad, Syria, Egypt, and Asia Minor. This first conquest was little better than a raid, so brief was the resultant tenure; but a century later two dispossessed nephews of Melek Shah of Persia set out on a military adventure which had more lasting consequences. Penetrating with, a small following into Asia Minor, they seized Konia, and instituted there a kingdom nominally feudatory to the Grand Seljuk of Persia, but in reality independent and destined to last about two centuries. Though numerically weak, their forces, recruited from the professional soldier class which had bolstered up the Abbasid Empire and formed the Seljukian kingdoms of Persia and Syria, were superior to any Byzantine troops that could be arrayed in southern or central Asia Minor. They constituted indeed the only compact body of fighting men seen in these regions for some generations. It found reinforcement from the scattered Turki groups introduced already, as we have seen, into the country; and even from native Christians, who, descended from the Iconoclasts of two centuries before, found the rule of Moslem image-haters more congenial, as it was certainly more effective, than that of Byzantine emperors. The creed of the Seljuks was Islam of an Iranian type. Of Incarnationist colour, it repudiated the dour illiberal spirit of the early Arabian apostles which latter-day Sunnite orthodoxy has revived. Accordingly its professors, backed by an effective force and offering security and privilege, quickly won over the aborigines--Lycaonians, Phrygians, Cappadocians, and Cilicians--and welded them into a nation, leaving only a few detached communities here and there to cherish allegiance to Byzantine Christianity. In the event, the population of quite two-thirds of the Anatolian peninsula had already identified itself with a ruling Turki caste before, early in the thirteenth century, fresh Turks appeared on the scene--those Turks who were to found the Ottoman Empire. They entered Asia Minor much as the earlier Turcomans had entered it--a small body of nomadic adventurers, thrown off by the larger body of Turks settled in Persia to seek new pastures west of the Euphrates. There are divers legends about the first appearance and establishment of these particular Turks: but all agree that they were of inconsiderable number-- not above four hundred families at most. Drifting in by way of Armenia, they pressed gradually westward from Erzerum in hope of finding some unoccupied country which would prove both element and fertile. Byzantine influence was then at a very low ebb. With Constantinople itself in Latin hands, the Greek writ ran only along the north Anatolian coast, ruled from two separate centres, Isnik (Nicaea) and Trebizond: and the Seljuk kingdom was run in reality much more vigorous. Though apparently without a rival, it was subsisting by consent, on the prestige of its past, rather than on actual power. The moment of its dissolution was approaching, and the Anatolian peninsula, two-thirds Islamized, but ill-organised and very loosely knit, was becoming once more a fair field for any adventurer able to command a small compact force. The newly come Turks were invited finally to settle on the extreme north-western fringe of the Seljuk territory--in a region so near Nicaea that their sword would be a better title to it than any which the feudal authority of Konia could confer. In fact it was a debatable land, an angle pushed up between the lake plain of Nicaea on the one hand and the plain of Brusa on the other, and divided from each by not lofty heights, Yenishehr, its chief town, which became the Osmanli chief Ertogrul's residence, lies, as the crow flies, a good deal less than fifty miles from the Sea of Marmora, and not a hundred miles from Constantinople itself. Here Ertogrul was to be a Warden of the Marches, to hold his territory for the Seljuk and extend it for himself at the expense of Nicaea if he could. If he won through, so much the better for Sultan Alaeddin; if he failed, _vile damnum!_ Hardly were his tribesmen settled, however, among the Bithynians and Greeks of Yenishehr, before the Seljuk collapse became a fact. The Tartar storm, ridden by Jenghis Khan, which had overwhelmed Central Asia, spent its last force on the kingdom of Konia, and, withdrawing, left the Seljuks bankrupt of force and prestige and Anatolia without an overlord. The feudatories were free everywhere to make or mar themselves, and they spent the last half of the thirteenth century in fighting for whatever might be saved from the Seljuk wreck before it foundered for ever about 1300 A.D. In the south, the centre, and the east of the peninsula, where Islam had long rooted itself as the popular social system, various Turki emirates established themselves on a purely Moslem basis--certain of these, like the Danishmand emirate of Cappadocia, being restorations of tribal jurisdictions which had existed before the imposition of Seljuk overlordship. In the extreme north-west, however, where the mass of society was still Christian and held itself Greek, no Turkish, potentate could either revive a pre-Seljukian status or simply carry on a Seljukian system in miniature. If he was to preserve independence at all, he must rely on a society which was not yet Moslem and form a coalition with the 'Greeks', into whom the recent recovery of Constantinople from the Latins had put fresh heart. Osman, who had succeeded Ertogrul in 1288, recognized where his only possible chance of continued dominion and future aggrandizement lay. He turned to the Greeks, as an element of vitality and numerical strength to be absorbed into his nascent state, and applied himself unremittingly to winning over and identifying with himself the Greek feudal seigneurs in his territory or about its frontiers. Some of these, like Michael, lord of Harmankaya, readily enough stood in with the vigorous Turk and became Moslems. Others, as the new state gained momentum, found themselves obliged to accept it or be crushed. There are to this day Greek communities in the Brusa district jealously guarding privileges which date from compacts made with their seigneurs by Osman and his son Orkhan. It was not till the Seljuk kingdom was finally extinguished, in or about 1300 A.D. that Osman assumed at Yenishehr the style and title of a sultan. Acknowledged from Afium Kara Hissar, in northern Phrygia, to the Bithynian coast of the Marmora, beside whose waters his standards had already been displayed, he lived on to see Brusa fall to his son Orkhan, in 1326, and become the new capital. Though Nicaea still held out, Osman died virtual lord of the Asiatic Greeks; and marrying his son to a Christian girl, the famous Nilufer, after whom the river of Brusa is still named, he laid on Christian foundations the strength of his dynasty and his state. The first regiment of professional Ottoman soldiery was recruited by him and embodied later by Orkhan, his son, from Greek and other Christian-born youths, who, forced to apostatize, were educated as Imperial slaves in imitation of the Mamelukes, constituted more than a century earlier in Egypt, and now masters where they had been bondmen. It is not indeed for nothing that Osman's latest successor, and all who hold by him, distinguish themselves from other peoples by his name. They are Osmanlis (or by a European use of the more correct form Othman, 'Ottomans'), because they derived their being as a nation and derive their national strength, not so much from central Asia as from the blend of Turk and Greek which Osman promoted among his people. This Greek strain has often been reinforced since his day and mingled with other Caucasian strains. It was left to Orkhan to round off this Turco-Grecian realm in Byzantine Asia by the capture first of Ismid (Nicomedia) and then of Isnik (Nicaea); and with this last acquisition the nucleus of a self-sufficient sovereign state was complete. After the peaceful absorption of the emirate of Karasi, which added west central Asia Minor almost as far south as the Hermus, the Osmanli ruled in 1338 a dominion of greater area than that of the Greek emperor, whose capital and coasts now looked across to Ottoman shores all the way from the Bosphorus to the Hellespont. 2 _Expansion of the Osmanli Kingdom_ If the new state was to expand by conquest, its line of advance was already foreshadowed. For the present, it could hardly break back into Asia Minor, occupied as this was by Moslem principalities sanctioned by the same tradition as itself, namely, the prestige of the Seljuks. To attack these would be to sin against Islam. But in front lay a rich but weak Christian state, the centre of the civilization to which the popular element in the Osmanli society belonged. As inevitably as the state of Nicaea had desired, won, and transferred itself to, Constantinople, so did the Osmanli state of Brusa yearn towards the same goal; and it needed no invitation from a Greek to dispose an Ottoman sultan to push over to the European shore. Such an invitation, however, did in fact precede the first Osmanli crossing in force. In 1345 John Cantacuzene solicited help of Orkhan against the menace of Dushan, the Serb. Twelve years later came a second invitation. Orkhan's son, Suleiman, this time ferried a large army over the Hellespont, and, by taking and holding Gallipoli and Rodosto, secured a passage from continent to continent, which the Ottomans would never again let go. Such invitations, though they neither prompted the extension of the Osmanli realm into Europe nor sensibly precipitated it, did nevertheless divert the course of the Ottoman arms and reprieve the Greek empire till Timur and his Tartars could come on the scene and, all unconsciously, secure it a further respite. But for these diversions there is little doubt Constantinople would have passed into Ottoman hands nearly a century earlier than the historic date of its fall. The Osmanli armies, thus led aside to make the Serbs and not the Greeks of Europe their first objective, became involved at once in a tangle of Balkan affairs from which they only extricated themselves after forty years of incessant fighting in almost every part of the peninsula except the domain of the Greek emperor. This warfare, which in no way advanced the proper aims of the lords of Brusa and Nicaea, not only profited the Greek emperor by relieving him of concern about his land frontier but also used up strength which might have made head against the Tartars. Constantinople then, as now, was detached from the Balkans. The Osmanlis, had they possessed themselves of it, might well have let the latter be for a long time to come. Instead, they had to battle, with the help now of one section of the Balkan peoples, now of another, till forced to make an end of all their feuds and treacheries by annexations after the victories of Kosovo in 1389 and Nikopolis in 1396. Nor was this all. They became involved also with certain peoples of the main continent of Europe, whose interests or sympathies had been affected by those long and sanguinary Balkan wars. There was already bad blood and to spare between the Osmanlis on the one hand, and Hungarians, Poles, and Italian Venetians on the other, long before any second opportunity to attack Constantinople occurred: and the Osmanlis were in for that age-long struggle to secure a 'scientific frontier' beyond the Danube, whence the Adriatic on the one flank and the Euxine on the other could be commanded, which was to make Ottoman history down to the eighteenth century and spell ruin in the end. It is a vulgar error to suppose that the Osmanlis set out for Europe, in the spirit of Arab apostles, to force their creed and dominion on all the world. Both in Asia and Europe, from first to last, their expeditions and conquests have been inspired palpably by motives similar to those active among the Christian powers, namely, desire for political security and the command of commercial areas. Such wars as the Ottoman sultans, once they were established at Constantinople, did wage again and again with knightly orders or with Italian republics would have been undertaken, and fought with the same persistence, by any Greek emperor who felt himself strong enough. Even the Asiatic campaigns, which Selim I and some of his successors, down to the end of the seventeenth century, would undertake, were planned and carried out from similar motives. Their object was to secure the eastern basin of the Mediterranean by the establishment of some strong frontier against Iran, out of which had come more than once forces threatening the destruction of Ottoman power. It does not, of course, in any respect disprove their purpose that, in the event, this object was never attained, and that an unsatisfactory Turco-Persian border still illustrates at this day the failures of Selim I and Mohammed IV. By the opening of the fifteenth century, when, all unlooked for, a most terrible Tartar storm was about to break upon western Asia, the Osmanli realm had grown considerably, not only in Europe by conquest, but also in Asia by the peaceful effect of marriages and heritages. Indeed it now comprised scarcely less of the Anatolian peninsula than the last Seljuks had held, that is to say, the whole of the north as far as the Halys river beyond Angora, the central plateau to beyond Konia, and all the western coast-lands. The only emirs not tributary were those of Karamania, Cappadocia, and Pontus, that is of the southern and eastern fringes; and one detached fragment of Greek power survived in the last-named country, the kingdom of Trebizond. As for Europe, it had become the main scene of Osmanli operations, and now contained the administrative capital, Adrianople, though Brusu kept a sentimental primacy. Sultan Murad, who some years after his succession in 1359 had definitely transferred the centre of political gravity to Thrace, was nevertheless carried to the Bithynian capital for burial, Bulgaria, Serbia, and districts of both Bosnia and Macedonia were now integral parts of an empire which had come to number at least as many Christian as Moslem subjects, and to depend as much on the first as on the last. Not only had the professional Osmanli soldiery, the Janissaries, continued to be recruited from the children of native Christian races, but contingents of adult native warriors, who still professed Christianity, had been invited or had offered themselves to fight Osmanli battles--even those waged against men of the True Faith in Asia. A considerable body of Christian Serbs had stood up in Murad's line at the battle of Konia in 1381, before the treachery of another body of the same race gave him the victory eight years later at Kosovo. So little did the Osmanli state model itself on the earlier caliphial empires and so naturally did it lean towards the Roman or Byzantine imperial type. And just because it had come to be in Europe and of Europe, it was able to survive the terrible disaster of Angora in 1402. Though the Osmanli army was annihilated by Timur, and an Osmanli sultan, for the first and last time in history, remained in the hands of the foe, the administrative machinery of the Osmanli state was not paralysed. A new ruler was proclaimed at Adrianople, and the European part of the realm held firm. The moment that the Tartars began to give ground, the Osmanlis began to recover it. In less than twenty years they stood again in Asia as they were before Timur's attack, and secure for the time on the east, could return to restore their prestige in the west, where the Tartar victory had bred unrest and brought both the Hungarians and the Venetians on the Balkan scene. Their success was once more rapid and astonishing: Salonika passed once and for all into Ottoman hands: the Frank seigneurs and the despots of Greece were alike humbled; and although Murad II failed to crush the Albanian, Skanderbey, he worsted his most dangerous foe, John Hunyadi, with the help of Wallach treachery at the second battle of Kosovo. At his death, three years later, he left the Balkans quiet and the field clear for his successor to proceed with the long deferred but inevitable enterprise of attacking all that was left of Greek empire, the district and city of Constantinople. The doom of New Rome was fulfilled within two years. In the end it passed easily enough into the hands of those who already had been in possession of its proper empire for a century or more. Historians have made more of this fall of Constantinople in 1453 than contemporary opinion seems to have made of it. No prince in Europe was moved to any action by its peril, except, very half-heartedly, the Doge. Venice could not feel quite indifferent to the prospect of the main part of that empire, which, while in Greek hands, had been her most serious commercial competitor, passing into the stronger hands of the Osmanlis. Once in Constantinople, the latter, long a land power only, would be bound to concern themselves with the sea also. The Venetians made no effort worthy of their apprehensions, though these were indeed exceedingly well founded; for, as all the world knows, to the sea the Osmanlis did at once betake themselves. In less than thirty years they were ranging all the eastern Mediterranean and laying siege to Rhodes, the stronghold of one of their most dangerous competitors, the Knights Hospitallers. In this consequence consists the chief historic importance of the Osmanli capture of Constantinople. For no other reason can it he called an epoch-marking event. If it guaranteed the Empire of the East against passing into any western hands, for example, those of Venice or Genoa, it did not affect the balance of power between Christendom and Islam; for the strength of the former had long ceased to reside at all in Constantinople. The last Greek emperor died a martyr, but not a champion. 3 _Heritage and Expansion of Byzantine Empire_ On the morrow of his victory, Mohammed the Conqueror took pains to make it clear that his introduction of a new heaven did not entail a new earth. As little as might be would be changed. He had displaced a Palaeologus by an Osmanli only in order that an empire long in fact Osmanli should henceforth be so also _de jure_. Therefore he confirmed the pre-existing Oecumenical patriarch in his functions and the Byzantine Greeks in their privileges, renewed the rights secured to Christian foreigners by the Greek emperors, and proclaimed that, for his accession to the throne, there should not be made a Moslem the more or a Christian the less. Moreover, during the thirty years left to him of life, Mohammed devoted himself to precisely those tasks which would have fallen to a Greek emperor desirous of restoring Byzantine power. He thrust back Latins wherever they were encroaching on the Greek sphere, as were the Venetians of the Morea, the Hospitallers of Rhodes, and the Genoese of the Crimea: and he rounded off the proper Byzantine holding by annexing, in Europe, all the Balkan peninsula except the impracticable Black Mountain, the Albanian highlands, and the Hungarian fortress of Belgrade; and, in Asia, what had remained independent in the Anatolian peninsula, the emirates of Karamania and Cappadocia. Before Mohammed died in 1481 the Osmanli Turco-Grecian nation may be said to have come into its own. It was lord _de facto et de jure belli_ of the eastern or Greek Empire, that is of all territories and seas grouped geographically round Constantinople as a centre, with only a few exceptions unredeemed, of which the most notable were the islands of Cyprus, Rhodes, and Krete, still in Latin hands. Needless to say, the Osmanlis themselves differed greatly from their imperial predecessors. Their official speech, their official creed, their family system were all foreign to Europe, and many of their ideas of government had been learned in the past from Persia and China, or were derived from the original tribal organization of the true Turks. But if they were neither more nor less Asiatics than the contemporary Russians, they were quite as much Europeans as many of the Greek emperors had been--those of the Isaurian dynasty, for instance. They had given no evidence as yet of a fanatical Moslem spirit--this was to be bred in them by subsequent experiences--and their official creed had governed their policy hardly more than does ours in India or Egypt. Mohammed the Conqueror had not only shown marked favour to Christians, whether his _rayas_ or not, but encouraged letters and the arts in a very un-Arabian spirit. Did he not have himself portrayed by Gentile Bellini? The higher offices of state, both civil and military, were confided (and would continue so to be for a century to come) almost exclusively to men of Christian origin. Commerce was encouraged, and western traders recognized that their facilities were greater now than they had been under Greek rule. The Venetians, for example, enjoyed in perfect liberty a virtual monopoly of the Aegean and Euxine trade. The social condition of the peasantry seems to have been better than it had been under Greek seigneurs, whether in Europe or in Asia, and better than it was at the moment in feudal Christendom. The Osmanli military organization was reputed the best in the world, and its fame attracted adventurous spirits from all over Europe to learn war in the first school of the age. Ottoman armies, it is worth while to remember, were the only ones then attended by efficient medical and commissariat services, and may be said to have introduced to Europe these alleviations of the horrors of war. Had the immediate successors of Mohammed been content--or, rather, had they been able--to remain within his boundaries, they would have robbed Ottoman history of one century of sinister brilliance, but might have postponed for many centuries the subsequent sordid decay; for the seeds of this were undoubtedly sown by the three great sultans who followed the taker of Constantinople. Their ambitions or their necessities led to a great increase of the professional army which would entail many evils in time to come. Among these were praetorianism in the capital and the great provincial towns; subjection of land and peasantry to military seigneurs, who gradually detached themselves from the central control; wars undertaken abroad for no better reason than the employment of soldiery feared at home; consequent expansion of the territorial empire beyond the administrative capacity of the central government; development of the 'tribute-children' system of recruiting into a scourge of the _rayas_ and a continual offence to neighbouring states, and the supplementing of that system by acceptance of any and every alien outlaw who might offer himself for service: lastly, revival of the dormant crusading spirit of Europe, which reacted on the Osmanlis, begetting in them an Arabian fanaticism and disposing them to revert to the obscurantist spirit of the earliest Moslems. To sum the matter up in other words: the omnipotence and indiscipline of the Janissaries; the contumacy of 'Dere Beys' ('Lords of the Valleys,' who maintained a feudal independence) and of provincial governors; the concentration of the official mind on things military and religious, to the exclusion of other interests; the degradation and embitterment of the Christian elements in the empire; the perpetual financial embarrassment of the government with its inevitable consequence of oppression and neglect of the governed; and the constant provocation in Christendom of a hostility which was always latent and recurrently active-- all these evils, which combined to push the empire nearer and nearer to ruin from the seventeenth century onwards, can be traced to the brilliant epoch of Osmanli history associated with the names of Bayezid II, Selim I, and Suleiman the Magnificent. At the same time Fate, rather than any sultan, must be blamed. It was impossible to forgo some further extension of the empire, and very difficult to arrest extension at any satisfactory static point. For one thing, as has been pointed out already, there were important territories in the proper Byzantine sphere still unredeemed at the death of Mohammed. Rhodes, Krete, and Cyprus, whose possession carried with it something like superior control of the Levantine trade, were in Latin hands. Austrian as well as Venetian occupation of the best harbours was virtually closing the Adriatic to the masters of the Balkans. Nor could the inner lands of the Peninsula be quite securely held while the great fortress of Belgrade, with the passage of the Danube, remained in Hungarian keeping, Furthermore, the Black Sea, which all masters of the Bosphorus have desired to make a Byzantine lake, was in dispute with the Wallachs and the Poles; and, in the reign of Mohammed's successor, a cloud no bigger than a man's hand came up above its northern horizon--the harbinger of the Muscovite. As for the Asiatic part of the Byzantine sphere, there was only one little corner in the south-east to be rounded off to bring all the Anatolian peninsula under the Osmanli. But that corner, the Cilician plain, promised trouble, since it was held by another Islamic power, that of the Egyptian Mamelukes, which, claiming to be at least equal to the Osmanli, possessed vitality much below its pretensions. The temptation to poach on it was strong, and any lord of Constantinople who once gave way to this, would find himself led on to assume control of all coasts of the easternmost Levant, and then to push into inland Asia in quest of a scientific frontier at their back--perilous and costly enterprise which Rome had essayed again and again and had to renounce in the end. Bayezid II took the first step by summoning the Mameluke to evacuate certain forts near Tarsus, and expelling his garrisons _vi et armis_. Cilicia passed to the Osmanli; but for the moment he pushed no farther. Bayezid, who was under the obligation always to lead his army in person, could make but one campaign at a time; and a need in Europe was the more pressing. In quitting Cilicia, however, he left open a new question in Ottoman politics--the Asiatic continental question--and indicated to his successor a line of least resistance on which to advance. Nor would this be his only dangerous legacy. The prolonged and repeated raids into Adriatic lands, as far north as Carniola and Carinthia, with which the rest of Bayezid's reign was occupied, brought Ottoman militarism at last to a point, whose eventual attainment might have been foreseen any time in the past century-- the point at which, strong in the possession of a new arm, artillery, it would assume control of the state. Bayezid's seed was harvested by Selim. First in a long series of praetorian creatures which would end only with the destroyer of the praetorians themselves three centuries later, he owed his elevation to a Janissary revolt, and all the eight bloody years of his reign were to be punctuated by Janissary tumults. To keep his creators in any sort of order and contentment he had no choice but to make war from his first year to his last. When he died, in 1520, the Ottoman Empire had been swelled to almost as wide limits in Asia and Africa as it has ever attained since his day. Syria, Armenia, great part of Kurdistan, northern Mesopotamia, part of Arabia, and last, but not least, Egypt, were forced to acknowledge Osmanli suzerainty, and for the first time an Osmanli sultan had proclaimed himself caliph. True that neither by his birth nor by the manner of his appointment did Selim satisfy the orthodox caliphial tradition; but, besides his acquisition of certain venerated relics of the Prophet, such as the _Sanjak i-sherif_ or holy standard, and besides a yet more important acquisition--the control of the holy cities of the faith-- he could base a claim on the unquestioned fact that the office was vacant, and the equally certain fact that he was the most powerful Moslem prince in the world. Purists might deny him if they dared: the vulgar Sunni mind was impressed and disposed to accept. The main importance, however, of Selim's assumption of the caliphate was that it consecrated Osmanli militarism to a religious end--to the original programme of Islam. This was a new thing, fraught with dire possibilities from that day forward. It marked the supersession of the Byzantine or European ideal by the Asiatic in Osmanli policy, and introduced a phase of Ottoman history which has endured to our own time. The inevitable process was continued in the next reign. Almost all the military glories of Suleiman--known to contemporary Europe as 'the Magnificent' and often held by historians the greatest of Osmanli sultans-- made for weakening, not strengthening, the empire. His earliest operations indeed, the captures of Rhodes from the Knights and of Belgrade and [)S]abac from the Hungarians, expressed a legitimate Byzantine policy; and the siege of Malta, one of his latest ventures, might also be defended as a measure taken in the true interests of Byzantine commerce. But the most brilliant and momentous of his achievements bred evils for which military prestige and the material profits to be gained from the oppression of an irreconcilable population were inadequate compensation. This was the conquest of Hungary. It would result in Buda and its kingdom remaining Ottoman territory for a century and a half, and in the principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia abiding under the Ottoman shadow even longer, and passing for all time out of the central European into the Balkan sphere; but also it would result in the Osmanli power finding itself on a weak frontier face to face at last with a really strong Christian race, the Germanic, before which, since it could not advance, it would have ultimately to withdraw; and in the rousing of Europe to a sense of its common danger from Moslem activity. Suleiman's failure to take Vienna more than made good the panic which had followed on his victory at Mohacs. It was felt that the Moslem, now that he had failed against the bulwark of central Europe, was to go no farther, and that the hour of revenge was near. [Illustration: The Ottoman Empire (Except the Arabian and African provinces)] It was nearer than perhaps was expected. Ottoman capacity to administer the overgrown empire in Europe and Asia was strained already almost to breaking-point, and it was in recognition of this fact that Suleiman made the great effort to reorganize his imperial system, which has earned him his honourable title of _El Kanun_, the Regulator. But if he could reset and cleanse the wheels of the administrative machine, he could not increase its capacity. New blood was beginning to fail for the governing class just as the demands on it became greater. No longer could it be manned exclusively from the Christian born. Two centuries of recruiting in the Balkans and West Asia had sapped their resources. Even the Janissaries were not now all 'tribute-children'. Their own sons, free men Moslem born, began to be admitted to the ranks. This change was a vital infringement of the old principle of Osmanli rule, that all the higher administrative and military functions should be vested in slaves of the imperial household, directly dependent on the sultan himself; and once breached, this principle could not but give way more and more. The descendants of imperial slaves, free-born Moslems, but barred from the glory and profits of their fathers' function, had gradually become a very numerous class of country gentlemen distributed over all parts of the empire, and a very malcontent one. Though it was still subservient, its dissatisfaction at exclusion from the central administration was soon to show itself partly in assaults on the time-honoured system, partly in assumption of local jurisdiction, which would develop into provincial independence. The overgrowth of his empire further compelled Suleiman to divide the standing army, in order that more than one imperial force might take the field at a time. Unable to lead all his armies in person, he elected, in the latter part of his reign, to lead none, and for the first time left the Janissaries to march without a sultan to war. Remaining himself at the centre, he initiated a fashion which would encourage Osmanli sultans to lapse into half-hidden beings, whom their subjects would gradually invest with religious character. Under these conditions the ruler, the governing class (its power grew with this devolution), the dominant population of the state, and the state itself all grew more fanatically Moslem. In the early years of the seventeenth century, Ahmed I being on the throne, the Ottoman Empire embraced the widest territorial area which it was ever to cover at any one moment. In what may be called the proper Byzantine field, Cyprus had been recovered and Krete alone stood out. Outside that field, Hungary on the north and Yemen (since Selim's conquest in 1516) on the south were the frontier provinces, and the Ottoman flag had been carried not only to the Persian Gulf but also far upon the Iranian plateau, in the long wars of Murad III, which culminated in 1588 with the occupation of Tabriz and half Azerbaijan. 4 _Shrinkage and Retreat_ The fringes of this vast empire, however, none too surely held, were already involving it in insoluble difficulties and imminent dangers. On the one hand, in Asia, it had been found impossible to establish military fiefs in Arabia, Kurdistan, or anywhere east of it, on the system which had secured the Osmanli tenure elsewhere. On the other hand, in Europe, as we have seen, the empire had a very unsatisfactory frontier, beyond which a strong people not only set limits to further progress but was prepared to dispute the ground already gained. In a treaty signed at Sitvatorok, in 1606, the Osmanli sultan was forced to acknowledge definitely the absolute and equal sovereignty of his northern neighbour, Austria; and although, less than a century later, Vienna would be attacked once more, there was never again to be serious prospect of an extension of the empire in the direction of central Europe. Moreover, however appearances might be maintained on the frontiers, the heart of the empire had begun patently to fail. The history of the next two centuries, the seventeenth and eighteenth, is one long record of praetorian tumults at home; and ever more rarely will these be compensated by military successes abroad. The first of these centuries had not half elapsed ere the Janissaries had taken the lives of two sultans, and brought the Grand Vizierate to such a perilous pass that no ordinary holder of it, unless backed by some very powerful Albanian or other tribal influence, could hope to save his credit or even his life. During this period indeed no Osmanli of the older stocks ever exercised real control of affairs. It was only among the more recently assimilated elements, such as the Albanian, the Slavonic, or the Greek, that men of the requisite character and vigour could be found. The rally which marked the latter half of the seventeenth century was entirely the work of Albanians or of other generals and admirals, none of whom had had a Moslem grandfather. Marked by the last Osmanli conquest made at the expense of Europe--that of Krete; by the definite subjugation of Wallachia; by the second siege of Vienna; by the recovery of the Morea from Venice; and finally by an honourable arrangement with Austria about the Danube frontier--it is all to be credited to the Kuprili 'dynasty' of Albanian viziers, which conspicuously outshone the contemporary sovereigns of the dynasty of Osman, the best of them, Mohammed IV, not excepted. It was, however, no more than a rally; for greater danger already threatened from another quarter. Agreement had not been reached with Austria at Carlowitz, in 1699, before a new and baleful planet swam into the Osmanli sky. It was, this time, no central European power, to which, at the worst, all that lay north of the proper Byzantine sphere might be abandoned; but a claimant for part of that sphere itself, perhaps even for the very heart of it. Russia, seeking an economic outlet, had sapped her way south to the Euxine shore, and was on the point of challenging the Osmanli right to that sea. The contest would involve a vital issue; and if the Porte did not yet grasp this fact, others had grasped it. The famous 'Testament of Peter the Great' may or may not be a genuine document; but, in either case, it proves that certain views about the necessary policy of Russia in the Byzantine area, which became commonplaces of western political thinkers as the eighteenth century advanced, were already familiar to east European minds in the earlier part of that century. Battle was not long in being joined. In the event, it would cost Russia about sixty years of strenuous effort to reduce the Byzantine power of the Osmanlis to a condition little better than that in which Osman had found the Byzantine power of the Greeks four centuries before. During the first two-thirds of this period the contest was waged not unequally. By the Treaty of Belgrade, in 1739, Sultan Mahmud I appeared for a moment even to have gained the whole issue, Russia agreeing to her own exclusion from the Black Sea, and from interference in the Danubian principalities. But the success could not be sustained. Repeated effort was rapidly exhausting Osmanli strength, sapped as it was by increasing internal disease: and when a crisis arrived with the accession of the Empress Catherine, it proved too weak to meet it. During the ten years following 1764 Osmanli hold on the Black Sea was lost irretrievably. After the destruction of the fleet at Chesme the Crimea became untenable and was abandoned to the brief mercies of Russia: and with a veiled Russian protectorate established in the Danubian principalities, and an open Russian occupation in Morean ports, Constantinople had lost once more her own seas. When Selim III was set on a tottering throne, in 1787, the wheel of Byzantine destiny seemed to have come again almost full circle: and the world was expecting a Muscovite succession to that empire which had acknowledged already the Roman, the Greek, and the Osmanli. Certainly history looked like repeating itself. As in the fourteenth century, so in the eighteenth, the imperial provinces, having shaken off almost all control of the capital, were administering themselves, and happier for doing so. Mesopotamia, Syria, Egypt, and Trebizond acknowledged adventurers as virtually independent lords. Asia Minor, in general, was being controlled, in like disregard of imperial majesty, by a group of 'Dere Beys', descended, in different districts, from tribal chieftains or privileged tax-farmers, or, often, from both. The latter part of the eighteenth century was the heyday of the Anatolian feudal families--of such as the Chapanoghlus of Yuzgad, whose sway stretched from Pontus to Cilicia, right across the base of the peninsula, or the Karamanoghlus of Magnesia, Bergama, and Aidin, who ruled as much territory as the former emirs of Karasi and Sarukhan, and were recognized by the representatives of the great trading companies as wielding the only effective authority in Smyrna. The wide and rich regions controlled by such families usually contributed neither an _asper_ to the sultan's treasury nor a man to the imperial armies. On no mountain of either Europe or Asia--and mountains formed a large part of the Ottoman empire in both--did the imperial writ run. Macedonia and Albania were obedient only to their local beys, and so far had gone the devolution of Serbia and Bosnia to Janissary aghas, feudal beys, and the Beylerbey of Rumili, that these provinces hardly concerned themselves more with the capital. The late sultan, Mustapha III, had lost almost the last remnant of his subjects' respect, not so much by the ill success of his mutinous armies as by his depreciation of the imperial coinage. He had died bankrupt of prestige, leaving no visible assets to his successor. What might become of the latter no one in the empire appeared to care. As in 1453, it waited other lords. 5 _Revival_ It has been waiting, nevertheless, ever since--waiting for much more than a century; and perhaps the end is not even yet. Why, then, have expectations not only within but without the empire been so greatly at fault? How came Montesquieu, Burke, and other confident prophets since their time to be so signally mistaken? There were several co-operating causes, but one paramount. Constantinople was no longer, as in 1453, a matter of concern only to itself, its immediate neighbours, and certain trading republics of Italy. It had become involved with the commercial interests of a far wider circle, in particular of the great trading peoples of western Europe, the British, the French, and the Dutch, and with the political interests of the Germanic and Russian nations. None of these could be indifferent to a revolution in its fortunes, and least of all to its passing, not to a power out of Asia, but to a rival power among themselves. Europe was already in labour with the doctrine of the Balance of Power. The bantling would not be born at Vienna till early in the century to come: but even before the end of the eighteenth century it could be foreseen that its life would be bound up with the maintenance of Constantinople in independence of any one of the parent powers--that is, with the prolongation of the Osmanli phase of its imperial fortunes. This doctrine, consistently acted upon by Europe, has been the sheet anchor of the Ottoman empire for a century. Even to this day its Moslem dynasty has never been without one powerful Christian champion or another. There were, however, some thirty years still to elapse after Selim's accession before that doctrine was fully born: and had her hands been free, Russia might well have been in secure possession of the Byzantine throne long before 1815. For, internally, the Osmanli state went from bad to worse. The tumultuous insubordination of the Janissaries became an ever greater scandal. Never in all the long history of their riots was their record for the years 1807-9 equalled or even approached. Never before, also, had the provinces been so utterly out of hand. This was the era of Jezzar the Butcher at Acre, of the rise of Mehemet Ali in Egypt, of Ali Pasha in Epirus, and of Pasvanoghlu at Vidin. When Mahmud II was thrust on to the throne in 1809, he certainly began his reign with no more personal authority and no more imperial prestige or jurisdiction than the last Greek emperor had enjoyed on his accession in 1448. The great European war, however, which had been raging intermittently for nearly twenty years, had saved Mahmud an empire to which he could succeed in name and try to give substance. Whatever the Osmanlis suffered during that war, it undoubtedly kept them in Constantinople. Temporary loss of Egypt and the small damage done by the British attack on Constantinople in 1807 were a small price to pay for the diversion of Russia's main energies to other than Byzantine fields, and for the assurance, made doubly sure when the great enemy did again attack, that she would not be allowed to settle the account alone. Whatever Napoleon may have planned and signed at Tilsit, the aegis of France was consistently opposed to the enemies of the Osmanlis down to the close of the Napoleonic age. Thus it came about that those thirty perilous years passed without the expected catastrophe. There was still a successor of Osman reigning in Constantinople when the great Christian powers, met in conclave at Vienna, half unconsciously guaranteed the continued existence of the Osmanli Empire simply by leaving it out of account in striking a Balance of Power in Europe. Its European territory, with the capital within it, was of quite enough importance to disturb seriously the nice adjustment agreed at Vienna; and, therefore, while any one's henceforth to take or leave, it would become always some one's to guard. A few years had yet to pass before the phrase, the Maintenance of the Integrity of the Ottoman Empire, would be a watchword of European diplomacy: but, whether formulated thus or not, that principle became a sure rock of defence for the Osmanli Empire on the birthday of the doctrine of the Balance of Power. Secure from destruction by any foes but those of his own household, as none knew better than he, the reigning Osmanli was scheming to regain the independence and dignity of his forefathers. Himself a creature of the Janissaries, Mahmud had plotted the abolition of his creators from the first year of his reign, but making a too precipitate effort after the conclusion of peace with Russia, had ignominiously failed and fallen into worse bondage than ever. Now, better assured of his imperial position and supported by leading men of all classes among his subjects, he returned not only to his original enterprise but to schemes for removing other checks on the power of the sovereign which had come into being in the last two centuries--notably the feudal independence of the Dere Beys, and the irresponsibility of provincial governors. Probably Mahmud II--if he is to be credited with personal initiation of the reforms always associated with his name--was not conscious of any purpose more revolutionary than that of becoming master in his own house, as his ancestors had been. What he ultimately accomplished, however, was something of much greater and more lasting moment to the Osmanli state. It was nothing less than the elimination of the most Byzantine features in its constitution and government. The substitution of national forces for mercenary praetorians: the substitution of direct imperial government of the provinces for devolution to seigneurs, tribal chiefs, and irresponsible officers: the substitution of direct collection for tax-farming: and the substitution of administration by bureaucrats for administration by household officers--these, the chief reforms carried through under Mahmud, were all anti-Byzantine. They did not cause the Osmanli state to be born anew, but, at least, they went far to purge it of original sin. That Mahmud and his advisers could carry through such reforms at all in so old a body politic is remarkable: that they carried them through amid the events of his reign is almost miraculous. One affront after another was put on the Sultan, one blow after another was struck at his empire. Inspired by echoes of the French Revolution and by Napoleon's recognition of the rights of nationalities, first the Serbs and then the Greeks seized moments of Ottoman disorder to rise in revolt against their local lords. The first, who had risen under Selim III, achieved, under Mahmud, autonomy, but not independence, nothing remaining to the sultan as before except the fortress of Belgrade with five other strongholds. The second, who began with no higher hopes than the Serbs, were encouraged, by the better acquaintance and keener sympathy of Europe, to fight their way out to complete freedom. The Morea and central Greece passed out of the empire, the first provinces so to pass since the Osmanli loss of Hungary. Yet it was in the middle of that fatal struggle that Mahmud settled for ever with the Janissaries, and during all its course he was settling one after another with the Dere Beys! When he had thus sacrificed the flower of his professional troops and had hardly had time to replace the local governments of the provinces by anything much better than general anarchy, he found himself faced by a Russian assault. His raw levies fought as no other raw levies than the Turkish can, and, helped by manifestations of jealousy by the other powers, staved off the capture of Constantinople, which, at one moment, seemed about to take place at last. But he had to accept humiliating terms, amounting virtually, to a cession of the Black Sea. Mahmud recognized that such a price he must pay for crossing the broad stream between Byzantinism and Nationalism, and kept on his way. Finally came a blow at the hands of one of his own household and creed. Mehemet Ali of Egypt, who had faithfully fought his sovereign's battles in Arabia and the Morea, held his services ill requited and his claim to be increased beyond other pashas ignored, and proceeded to take what had not been granted. He went farther than he had intended--more than half-way across Asia Minor--after the imperial armies had suffered three signal defeats, before he extorted what he had desired at first: and in the end, after very brief enjoyment, he had to resign all again to the mandate, not of his sovereign, but of certain European powers who commanded his seas. Mahmud, however, who lived neither to see himself saved by the _giaur_ fleets, nor even to hear of his latest defeat, had gone forward with the reorganization of the central and provincial administration, undismayed by Mehemet Ali's contumacy or the insistence of Russia at the gate of the Bosphorus. As news arrived from time to time in the west of Mahmud's disasters, it was customary to prophesy the imminent dissolution of his empire. We, however, looking backward now, can see that by its losses the Osmanli state in reality grew stronger. Each of its humiliations pledged some power or group of powers more deeply to support it: and before Mahmud died, he had reason to believe that, so long as the European Concert should ensue the Balance of Power, his dynasty would not be expelled from Constantinople. His belief has been justified. At every fresh crisis of Ottoman fortunes, and especially after every fresh Russian attack, foreign protection has unfailingly been extended to his successors. It was not, however, only in virtue of the increasing solicitude of the powers on its behalf that during the nineteenth century the empire was growing and would grow stronger, but also in virtue of certain assets within itself. First among these ranked the resources of its Asiatic territories, which, as the European lands diminished, became more and more nearly identified with the empire. When, having got rid of the old army, Mahmud imposed service on all his Moslem subjects, in theory, but in effect only on the Osmanlis (not the Arabs, Kurds, or other half assimilated nomads and hillmen), it meant more than a similar measure would have meant in a Christian empire. For, the life of Islam being war, military service binds Moslems together and to their chiefs as it binds men under no other dispensation; therefore Mahmud, so far as he was able to enforce his decree, created not merely a national army but a nation. His success was most immediate and complete in Anatolia, the homeland of the Osmanlis. There, however, it was attained only by the previous reduction of those feudal families which, for many generations, had arrogated to themselves the levying and control of local forces. Hence, as in Constantinople with the Janissaries, so in the provinces with the Dere Beys, destruction of a drastic order had to precede construction, and more of Mahmud's reign had to be devoted to the former than remained for the latter. He did, however, live to see not only the germ of a nation emerge from chaos, but also the framework of an organization for governing it well or ill. The centralized bureaucracy which he succeeded in initiating was, of course, wretchedly imperfect both in constitution and equipment. But it promised to promote the end he had in view and no other, inasmuch as, being the only existent machine of government, it derived any effective power it had from himself alone. Dependent on Stambul, it served to turn thither the eyes and prayers of the provincials. The naturally submissive and peaceful population of Asia Minor quickly accustomed itself to look beyond the dismantled strongholds of its fallen beys. As for the rest-- contumacious and bellicose beys and sheikhs of Kurdish hills and Syrian steppes--their hour of surrender was yet to come. The eventual product of Mahmud's persistency was the 'Turkey' we have seen in our own time--that Turkey irretrievably Asiatic in spirit under a semi-European system of administration, which has governed despotically in the interests of one creed and one class, with slipshod, makeshift methods, but has always governed, and little by little has extended its range. Knowing its imperfections and its weakness, we have watched with amazement its hand feeling forward none the less towards one remote frontier district after another, painfully but surely getting its grip, and at last closing on Turcoman chiefs and Kurdish beys, first in the Anatolian and Cilician hills, then in the mountains of Armenia, finally in the wildest Alps of the Persian borderland. We have marked its stealthy movement into the steppes and deserts of Syria, Mesopotamia, and Arabia-- now drawn back, now pushed farther till it has reached and held regions over which Mahmud could claim nothing but a suzerainty in name. To judge how far the shrinkage of the Osmanli European empire has been compensated by expansion of its Asiatic, one has only to compare the political state of Kurdistan, as it was at the end of the eighteenth century, and as it has been in our own time. It is impossible to believe that the Greek Empire, however buttressed and protected by foreign powers, could ever have reconstituted itself after falling so low as it fell in the fourteenth century and as the Osmanli Empire fell in the eighteenth; and it is clear that the latter must still have possessed latent springs of vitality, deficient in the former. What can these have been? It is worth while to try to answer this question at the present juncture, since those springs, if they existed a hundred years ago, can hardly now be dry. In the first place it had its predominant creed. This had acted as Islam acts everywhere, as a very strong social bond, uniting the vast majority of subjects in all districts except certain parts of the European empire, in instinctive loyalty to the person of the padishah, whatever might be felt about his government. Thus had it acted with special efficacy in Asia Minor, whose inhabitants the Osmanli emperors, unlike the Greek, had always been at some pains to attach to themselves. The sultan, therefore, could still count on general support from the population of his empire's heart, and had at his disposal the resources of a country which no administration, however improvident or malign, has ever been able to exhaust. In the second place the Osmanli 'Turks', however fallen away from the virtues of their ancestors, had not lost either 'the will to power' or their capacity for governing under military law. If they had never succeeded in learning to rule as civilians they had not forgotten how to rule as soldiers. In the third place the sultanate of Stambul had retained a vague but valuable prestige, based partly on past history, partly on its pretension to religious influence throughout a much larger area than its proper dominions; and the conservative population of the latter was in great measure very imperfectly informed of its sovereign's actual position. In the fourth and last place, among the populations on whose loyalty the Osmanli sultan could make good his claim, were several strong unexhausted elements, especially in Anatolia. There are few more vigorous and enduring peoples than the peasants of the central plateau of Asia Minor, north, east, and south. With this rock of defence to stand upon, the sultan could draw also on the strength of other more distant races, less firmly attached to himself, but not less vigorous, such, for example, as the Albanians of his European mountains and the Kurds of his Asiatic. However decadent might be the Turco-Grecian Osmanli (he, unfortunately, had the lion's share of office), those other elements had suffered no decline in physical or mental development. Indeed, one cannot be among them now without feeling that their day is not only not gone, but is still, for the most part, yet to be. Such were latent assets of the Osmanli Empire, appreciated imperfectly by the prophets of its dissolution. Thanks to them, that empire continued not only to hold together throughout the nineteenth century but, in some measure, to consolidate itself. Even when the protective fence, set up by European powers about it, was violated, as by Russia several times--in 1829, in 1854, and in 1877--the nation, which Mahmud had made, always proved capable of stout enough resistance to delay the enemy till European diplomacy, however slow of movement, could come to its aid, and ultimately to dispose the victor to accept terms consistent with its continued existence. It was an existence, of course, of sufferance, but one which grew better assured the longer it lasted. By an irony of the Osmanli position, the worse the empire was administered, the stronger became its international guarantee. No better example can be cited than the effect of its financial follies. When national bankruptcy, long contemplated by its Government, supervened at last, the sultan had nothing more to fear from Europe. He became, _ipso facto_, the cherished protégé of every power whose nationals had lent his country money. Considering the magnitude of the change which Mahmud instituted, the stage at which he left it, and the character of the society in which it had to be carried out, it was unfortunate that he should have been followed on the throne by two well-meaning weaklings, of whom the first was a voluptuary, the second a fantastic spendthrift of doubtful sanity. Mahmud, as has been said, being occupied for the greater part of his reign in destroying the old order, had been able to reconstruct little more than a framework. His operations had been almost entirely forcible--of a kind understood by and congenial to the Osmanli character--and partly by circumstances but more by his natural sympathies, he had been identified from first to last with military enterprises. Though he was known to contemplate the eventual supremacy of civil law, and the equality of all sorts and conditions of his subjects before it, he did nothing to open this vista to public view. Consequently he encountered little or no factious opposition. Very few held briefs for either the Janissaries or the Dere Beys; and fewer regretted them when they were gone. Osmanli society identified itself with the new army and accepted the consequent reform of the central or provincial administration. Nothing in these changes seemed to affect Islam or the privileged position of Moslems in the empire. It was quite another matter when Abdul Mejid, in the beginning of his reign, promulgated an imperial decree--the famous Tanzimat or Hatti Sherif of Gulkhaneh--which, amid many excellent and popular provisions for the continued reform of the administration, proclaimed the equality of Christian and Moslem subjects in service, in reward, and before the law. The new sultan, essentially a civilian and a man of easy-going temperament, had been induced to believe that the end of an evolution, which had only just begun, could be anticipated _per saltum_, and that he and all his subjects would live happily together ever after. His counsellors had been partly politicians, who for various reasons, good and bad, wished to gain West European sympathy for their country, involved in potential bondage to Russia since the Treaty of Unkiar Skelessi (1833), and recently afflicted by Ibrahim Pasha's victory at Nizib; and they looked to Great Britain to get them out of the Syrian mess. Partly also Abdul Mejid had been influenced by enthusiasts, who set more store by ideas or the phrases in which they were expressed, than by the evidence of facts. There were then, as since, 'young men in a hurry' among the more Europeanized Osmanlis. The net result of the sultan's precipitancy was to set against himself and his policy all who wished that such it consummation of the reform process might never come and all who knew it would never come, if snatched at thus--that is, both the 'Old Turks' and the moderate Liberals; and, further, to change for the worse the spirit in which the new machine of government was being worked and in which fresh developments of it would be accepted. To his credit, however, Abdul Mejid went on with administrative reform. The organization of the army into corps--the foundation of the existing system--and the imposition of five years' service on all subjects of the empire (in theory which an Albanian rising caused to be imperfectly realized in fact), belong to the early part of his reign; as do also, on the civil side, the institution of responsible councils of state and formation of ministries, and much provision for secondary education. To his latest years is to be credited the codification of the civil law. He had the advantage of some dozen initial years of comparative security from external foes, after the Syrian question had been settled in his favour by Great Britain and her allied powers at the cheap price of a guarantee of hereditary succession to the house of Mehemet Ali. Thanks to the same support, war with Persia was avoided and war with Russia postponed. But the provinces, even if quiet (which some of them, e.g. the Lebanon in the early 'forties', were not), proved far from content. If the form of Osmanli government had changed greatly, its spirit had changed little, and defective communications militated against the responsibility of officials to the centre. Money was scarce, and the paper currency--an ill-omened device of Mahmud's--was depreciated, distrusted, and regarded as an imperial betrayal of confidence. Finally, the hostility of Russia, notoriously unabated, and the encouragement of aspiring _rayas_ credited to her and other foreign powers made bad blood between creeds and encouraged opposition to the execution of the pro-Christian Tanzimat. When Christian turbulence at last brought on, in 1854, the Russian attack which developed into the Crimean War, and Christian allies, though they frustrated that attack, made a peace by which the Osmanlis gained nothing, the latter were in no mood to welcome the repetition of the Tanzimat, which Abdul Mejid consented to embody in the Treaty of Paris. The reign closed amid turbulence and humiliations--massacre and bombardment at Jidda, massacre and Franco-British coercion in Syria--from all of which the sultan took refuge with women and wine, to meet in 1861 a drunkard's end. His successor, Abdul Aziz, had much the same intentions, the same civilian sympathies, the same policy of Europeanization, and a different, but more fatal, weakness of character. He was, perhaps, never wholly sane; but his aberration, at first attested only by an exalted conviction of his divine character and inability to do wrong, excited little attention until it began to issue in fantastic expenditure. By an irony of history, he is the one Osmanli sultan upon the roll of our Order of the Garter, the right to place a banner in St, George's Chapel having been offered to this Allah-possessed caliph on the occasion of his visit to the West in 1867. Despite the good intentions of Abdul Aziz himself--as sincere as can be credited to a disordered brain---and despite more than one minister of outstanding ability, reform and almost everything else in the empire went to the bad in this unhappy reign. The administration settled down to lifeless routine and lapsed into corruption: the national army was starved: the depreciation of the currency grew worse as the revenue declined and the sultan's household and personal extravagance increased. Encouraged by the inertia of the imperial Government, the Christians of the European provinces waxed bold. Though Montenegro was severely handled for contumacy, the Serbs were able to cover their penultimate stage towards freedom by forcing in 1867 the withdrawal of the last Ottoman garrisons from their fortresses. Krete stood at bay for three years and all but won her liberty. Bosnia rose in arms, but divided against herself. Pregnant with graver trouble than these, Bulgaria showed signs of waking from long sleep. In 1870 she obtained recognition as a nationality in the Ottoman Empire, her Church being detached from the control of the Oecumenical Patriarch of the Greeks and placed under an Exarch. Presently, her peasantry growing ever more restive, passed from protest to revolt against the Circassian refugee-colonists with whom the Porte was flooding the land. The sultan, in an evil hour, for lack of trained troops, let loose irregulars on the villages, and the Bulgarian atrocities, which they committed in 1875, sowed a fatal harvest for his successor to reap. His own time was almost fulfilled. The following spring a dozen high officials, with the assent of the Sheikh-ul-Islam and the active dissent of no one, took Abdul Aziz from his throne to a prison, wherein two days later he perished, probably by his own hand. A puppet reigned three months as Murad V, and then, at the bidding of the same king-makers whom his uncle had obeyed, left the throne free for his brother Abdul Hamid, a man of affairs and ability, who was to be the most conspicuous, or rather, the most notorious Osmanli sultan since Suleiman. 6 _Relapse_ The new sultan, who had not expected his throne, found his realm in perilous case. Nominally sovereign and a member of the Concert of Europe, he was in reality a semi-neutralized dependant, existing, as an undischarged bankrupt, on sufferance of the powers. Should the Concert be dissolved, or even divided, and any one of its members be left free to foreclose its Ottoman mortgages, the empire would be at an end. Internally it was in many parts in open revolt, in all the rest stagnant and slowly rotting. The thrice-foiled claimant to its succession, who six years before had denounced the Black Sea clause of the Treaty of Paris and so freed its hands for offence, was manifestly preparing a fresh assault. Something drastic must be done; but what? This danger of the empire's international situation, and also the disgrace of it, had been evident for some time past to those who had any just appreciation of affairs; and in the educated class, at any rate, something like a public opinion, very apprehensive and very much ashamed, had struggled into being. The discovery of a leader in Midhat Pasha, former governor-general of Bagdad, and a king-maker of recent notoriety, induced the party of this opinion to take precipitate action. Murad had been deposed in August. Before the year was out Midhat presented himself before Abdul Hamid with a formal demand for the promulgation of a Constitution, proposing not only to put into execution the pious hopes of the two Hatti Sherifs of Abdul Mejid but also to limit the sovereign and govern the empire by representative institutions. The new sultan, hardly settled on his uneasy throne, could not deny those who had deposed his two predecessors, and, shrewdly aware that ripe facts would not be long in getting the better of immature ideas, accepted. A parliament was summoned; an electorate, with only the haziest notions of what it was about, went through the form of sending representatives to Constantinople; and the sittings were inaugurated by a speech from the throne, framed on the most approved Britannic model, the deputies, it is said, jostling and crowding the while to sit, as many as possible, on the right, which they understood was always the side of powers that be. It is true this extemporized chamber never had a chance. The Russians crossed the Pruth before it had done much more than verify its powers, and the thoughts and energies of the Osmanlis were soon occupied with the most severe and disastrous struggle in which the empire had ever engaged. But it is equally certain that it could not have turned to account any chance it might have had. Once more the 'young men in a hurry' had snatched at the end of an evolution hardly begun, without taking into account the immaturity of Osmanli society in political education and political capacity. After suspension during the war, the parliament was dissolved unregretted, and its creator was tried for his life, and banished. In failing, however, Midhat left bad to become so much worse that the next reformers would inevitably have a more convinced public opinion behind them, and he had virtually destroyed the power of Mahmud's bureaucracy. If the only immediate effect was the substitution of an unlimited autocracy, the Osmanli peoples would be able thenceforward to ascribe their misfortunes to a single person, meditate attack, on a single position, and dream of realizing some day an ideal which had been definitely formulated. The Russian onslaught, which began in both Europe and Asia in the spring of 1877, had been brought on, after a fashion become customary, by movements in the Slavonic provinces of the Ottoman Empire and in Rumania; and the latter province, now independent in all but name and, in defiance of Ottoman protests, disposing of a regular army, joined the invader. In campaigns lasting a little less than a year, the Osmanli Empire was brought nearer to passing than ever before, and it was in a suburb of Constantinople itself that the final armistice was arranged. But action by rival powers, both before the peace and in the revision of it at Berlin, gave fresh assurance that the end would not be suffered to come yet; and, moreover, through the long series of disasters, much latent strength of the empire and its peoples had been revealed. When that empire had emerged, shorn of several provinces--in Europe, of Rumania, Serbia, and northern Greece, with Bulgaria also well on the road they had travelled to emancipation, and in Asia, of a broad slice of Caucasia--Abdul Hamid cut his losses, and, under the new guarantee of the Berlin Treaty, took heart to try his hand at reviving Osmanli power. He and his advisers had their idea, the contrary of the idea of Midhat and all the sultans since Mahmud. The empire must be made, not more European, but more Asiatic. In the development of Islamic spirit to pan-Islamic unity it would find new strength; and towards this end in the early eighties, while he was yet comparatively young, with intelligence unclouded and courage sufficient, Abdul Hamid patiently set himself. In Asia, naturally sympathetic to autocracy, and the home of the faith of his fathers, he set on foot a pan-Islamic propaganda. He exalted his caliphate; he wooed the Arabs, and he plotted with extraneous Moslems against whatever foreign government they might have to endure. It cannot be denied that this idea was based on the logic of facts, and, if it could be realized, promised better than Midhat's for escape from shameful dependence. Indeed, Abdul Hamid, an autocrat bent on remaining one, could hardly have acted upon any other. By far the greater part of the territorial empire remaining to him lay in Asia. The little left in Europe would obviously soon be reduced to less. The Balkan lands were waking, or already awake, to a sense of separate nationality, and what chance did the Osmanli element, less progressive than any, stand in them? The acceptance of the Ottoman power into the Concert of Europe, though formally notified to Abdul Mejid, had proved an empty thing. In that galley there was no place for a sultan except as a dependent or a slave. As an Asiatic power, however, exerting temporal sway over some eighteen million bodies and religious influence over many times more souls, the Osmanli caliph might command a place in the sun. The result belied these hopes. Abdul Hamid's failure was owed in the main to facts independent of his personality or statecraft. The expansion of Islam over an immense geographical area and among peoples living in incompatible stages of sophistication, under most diverse political and social conditions, has probably made any universal caliphial authority for ever impossible. The original idea of the caliphate, like that of the _jehad_ or holy war of the faithful, presupposed that all Moslems were under governments of their own creed, and, perhaps, under one government. Moreover, if such a caliph were ever to be again, an Osmanli sultan would not be a strong candidate. Apart from the disqualification of his blood, he being not of the Prophet's tribe nor even an Arab, he is lord of a state irretrievably compromised in purist eyes (as Wahabis and Senussis have testified once and again) by its Byzantine heritage of necessary relations with infidels. Abdul Hamid's predecessors for two centuries or more had been at no pains to infuse reality into their nominal leadership of the faithful. To call a real caliphate out of so long abeyance could hardly have been effected even by a bold soldier, who appealed to the general imagination of Moslems; and certainly was beyond the power of a timid civilian. When Abdul Hamid had played this card and failed, he had no other; and his natural pusillanimity and shiftiness induced him to withdraw ever more into the depths of his palace, and there use his intelligence in exploiting this shameful dependence of his country on foreign powers. Unable or unwilling to encourage national resistance, he consoled himself, as a weak malcontent will, by setting one power against another, pin-pricking the stronger and blustering to the weaker. The history of his reign is a long record of protests and surrenders to the great in big matters, as to Great Britain in the matter of Egypt in 1881, to Russia in that of Eastern Rumelia in 1885, to France on the question of the Constantinople quays and other claims, and to all the powers in 1881 in the matter of the financial control. Between times he put in such pin-pricks as he could, removing his neighbours' landmarks in the Aden _hinterland_ or the Sinaitic peninsula. He succeeded, however, in keeping his empire out of a foreign war with any power for about thirty years, with the single exception of a brief conflict with Greece in 1897. While in the first half of his reign he was at pains to make no European friend, in the latter he fell more and more under the influence of Germany, which, almost from the accession of Kaiser Wilhelm II, began to prepare a southward way for future use, and alone of the powers, never browbeat the sultan. Internally, the empire passed more and more under the government of the imperial household. Defeated by the sheer geographical difficulty of controlling directly an area so vast and inadequately equipped with means of communication, Abdul Hamid soon relaxed the spasmodic efforts of his early years to better the condition of his subjects; and, uncontrolled and demoralized by the national disgrace, the administration went from bad to much worse. Ministers irresponsible; officials without sense of public obligation; venality in all ranks; universal suspicion and delation; violent remedies, such as the Armenian massacres of 1894, for diseases due to neglect; the peasantry, whether Moslem or Christian, but especially Christian, forced ultimately to liquidate all accounts; impoverishment of the whole empire by the improvidence and oppression of the central power-- such phrasing of the conventional results of 'Palace' government expresses inadequately the fruits of Yildiz under Abdul Hamid II. _Pari passu_ with this disorder of central and provincial administration increased the foreign encroachments on the empire. The nation saw not only rapid multiplication of concessions and hypothecations to aliens, and of alien persons themselves installed in its midst under extra-territorial immunity from its laws, secured by the capitulations, but also whole provinces sequestered, administered independently of the sultan's government, and prepared for eventual alienation. Egypt, Tunisia, Eastern Rumelia, Krete--these had all been withdrawn from Ottoman control since the Berlin settlement, and now Macedonia seemed to be going the same way. Bitter to swallow as the other losses had been--pills thinly sugared with a guarantee of suzerainty--the loss of Macedonia would be more bitter still; for, if it were withdrawn from Ottoman use and profit, Albania would follow and so would the command of the north Aegean and the Adriatic shores; while an ancient Moslem population would remain at Christian mercy. It was partly Ottoman fault, partly the fault of circumstances beyond Ottoman control, that this district had become a scandal and a reproach. In the days of Osmanli greatness Macedonia had been neglected in favour of provinces to the north, which were richer and more nearly related to the ways into central Europe. When more attention began to be paid to it by the Government, it had already become a cockpit for the new-born Christian nationalities, which had been developed on the north, east, and south. These were using every weapon, material and spiritual, to secure preponderance in its society, and had created chronic disorder which the Ottoman administration now weakly encouraged to save itself trouble, now violently dragooned. Already the powers had not only proposed autonomy for it, but begun to control its police and its finance. This was the last straw. The public opinion which had slowly been forming for thirty years gained the army, and Midhat's seed came to fruit. By an irony of fate Macedonia not only supplied the spectacle which exasperated the army to revolt, but by its very disorder made the preparation of that revolt possible; for it was due to local limitations of Ottoman sovereignty that the chief promoters of revolution were able to conspire in safety. By another irony, two of the few progressive measures ever encouraged by Abdul Hamid contributed to his undoing. If he had not sent young officers to be trained abroad, the army, the one Ottoman institution never allowed wholly to decay, would have remained outside the conspiracy. If he had never promoted the construction of railways, as he began to do after 1897, the Salonika army could have had no such influence on affairs in Constantinople as it exerted in 1908 and again in 1909. As it was, the sultan, at a mandate from Resna in Macedonia, re-enacted Midhat's Constitution, and, a year later, saw an army from Salonika arrive to uphold that Constitution against the reaction he had fostered, and to send him, dethroned and captive, to the place whence itself had come. 7 _Revolution_ Looking back on this revolution across seven years of its consequences, we see plainly enough that it was inspired far less by desire for humane progress than by shame of Osmanli military decline. The 'Liberty, Equality, Fraternity' programme which its authors put forward (a civilian minority among them, sincerely enough), Europe accepted, and the populace of the empire acted upon for a moment, did not express the motive of the movement or eventually guide its course. The essence of that movement was militant nationalism. The empire was to be regenerated, not by humanizing it but by Ottomanizing it. The Osmanli, the man of the sword, was the type to which all others, who wished to be of the nation, were to conform. Such as did not so wish must be eliminated by the rest. The revolutionary Committee in Salonika, called 'of Union and Progress', held up its cards at first, but by 1910 events had forced its hand on the table. The definite annexation of Bosnia and Hercegovina by Austria-Hungary in 1908, and the declaration of independence and assumption of the title Tsar by the ruler of Bulgaria, since they were the price to be paid by the revolutionaries for a success largely made in Germany, were opposed officially only _pro forma_; but when uninformed opinion in the empire was exasperated thereby against Christendom, the Committee, to appease reactionaries, had to give premature proof of pan-Osmanli and pro-Moslem intentions by taking drastic action against _rayas_. The Greeks of the empire, never without suspicions, had failed to testify the same enthusiasm for Ottoman fraternity which others, e.g. the Armenians, had shown; now they resumed their separatist attitude, and made it clear that they still aspired, not to Ottoman, but to Hellenic nationality. Nor were even the Moslems of the empire unanimous for fraternity among themselves. The Arab-speaking societies complained of under-representation in the councils and offices of the state, and made no secret of their intention not to be assimilated by the Turk-speaking Osmanlis. To all suggestions, however, of local home-rule and conciliation of particularist societies in the empire, the Committee was deaf. Without union, it believed in no progress, and by union it understood the assimilation of all societies in the empire to the Osmanli. Logic was on the side of the Committee in its choice of both end and means. In pan-Ottomanism, if it could be effected, lay certainly the single chance of restoring Osmanli independence and power to anything like the position they had once held. In rule by a militarist oligarchy for some generations to come, lay the one hope of realizing the pan-Ottoman idea and educating the resultant nation to self-government. That end, however, it was impossible to realize under the circumstances in which past history had involved the Ottoman Empire. There was too much bad blood between different elements of its society which Osmanli rulers had been labouring for centuries rather to keep apart than to unite; and certain important elements, both Moslem and Christian, had already developed too mature ideas of separate nationality. With all its defects, however, the new order did undoubtedly rest on a wider basis than the old, and its organization was better conceived and executed. It retained some of the sympathy of Europe which its beginnings had excited, and the western powers, regarding its representative institutions as earnests of good government, however ill they might work at the first, were disposed to give it every chance. Unfortunately the Young Turks were in a hurry to bring on their millennium, and careless of certain neighbouring powers, not formidable individually but to be reckoned with if united, to whom the prospect of regenerated Osmanlis assimilating their nationals could not be welcome. Had the Young Turks been content to put their policy of Ottomanization in the background for awhile, had they made no more than a show of accepting local distinctions of creed and politics, keeping in the meantime a tight rein on the Old Turks, they might long have avoided the union of those neighbours, and been in a better position to resist, should that union eventually be arrayed against themselves. But a considerable and energetic element among them belonged to the nervous Levantine type of Osmanli, which is as little minded to compromise as any Old Turk, though from a different motive. It elected to deal drastically and at once with Macedonia, the peculiar object not only of European solicitude but also of the interest of Bulgaria, Serbia, and Greece. If ever a province required delicate handling it was this. It did not get it. The interested neighbours, each beset by fugitives of its oppressed nationals, protested only to be ignored or browbeaten. They drew towards one another; old feuds and jealousies were put on one side; and at last, in the summer of 1912, a Holy League of Balkan States, inspired by Venezelos, the new Kretan Prime Minister of Greece, and by Ferdinand of Bulgaria, was formed with a view to common action against the oppressor of Greek, Serbian, and Bulgarian nationals in Macedonia. Montenegro, always spoiling for a fight, was deputed to fire the train, and at the approach of autumn the first Balkan war blazed up. 8 _Balkan War_ The course of the struggle is described elsewhere in this volume. Its event illustrates the danger of an alliance succeeding beyond the expectations in which it was formed. The constituent powers had looked for a stiff struggle with the Ottoman armies, but for final success sufficient to enable them, at the best, to divide Macedonia among themselves, at the worst, to secure its autonomy under international guarantee. Neither they nor any one else expected such an Ottoman collapse as was in store. Their moment of attack was better chosen than they knew. The Osmanli War Office was caught fairly in the middle of the stream. Fighting during the revolution, subsequently against Albanians and other recalcitrant provincials, and latterly against the Italians, who had snatched at Tripoli the year before, had reduced the _Nizam_, the first line of troops, far below strength. The _Redif_, the second line, had received hardly more training, thanks to the disorganization of Abdul Hamid's last years and of the first years of the new order, than the _Mustafuz_, the third and last line. Armament, auxiliary services, and the like had been disorganized preparatory to a scheme for thorough reorganization, which had been carried, as yet, but a very little way. A foreign (German) element, introduced into the command, had had time to impair the old spirit of Ottoman soldiers, but not to create a new one. The armies sent against the Bulgarians in Thrace were so many mobs of various arms; those which met the Serbs, a little better; those which opposed the Greeks, a little worse. It followed that the Bulgarians, who had proposed to do no more in Thrace than block Adrianople and immobilize the Constantinople forces, were carried by their own momentum right down to Chataldja, and there and at Adrianople had to prosecute siege operations when they ought to have been marching to Kavala and Salonika. The Serbs, after hard fighting, broke through not only into Macedonia but into Albania, and reached the Adriatic, but warned off this by the powers, consoled themselves with the occupation of much more Macedonian territory than the concerted plans of the allies had foreseen. The Greeks, instead of hard contests for the Haliacmon Valley and Epirus--their proper Irredenta--pushed such weak forces before them that they got through to Salonika just in time to forestall a Bulgarian column. Ottoman collapse was complete everywhere, except on the Chataldja front. It remained to divide the spoil. Serbia might not have Adriatic Albania, and therefore wanted as much Macedonia as she had actually overrun. Greece wanted the rest of Macedonia and had virtually got it. Remained Bulgaria who, with more of Thrace than she wanted, found herself almost entirely crowded out of Macedonia, the common objective of all. Faced with division _ex post facto_, the allies found their _a priori_ agreement would not resolve the situation. Bulgaria, the predominant partner and the most aggrieved, would neither recognize the others' rights of possession nor honestly submit her claims to the only possible arbiter, the Tsar of Russia. Finding herself one against two, she tried a _coup de main_ on both fronts, failed, and brought on a second Balkan war, in which a new determining factor, Rumania, intervened at a critical moment to decide the issue against her. The Ottoman armies recovered nearly all they had lost in eastern and central Thrace, including Adrianople, almost without firing a shot, and were not ill pleased to be quit of a desperate situation at the price of Macedonia, Albania, and western Thrace. Defeated and impoverished, the Ottoman power came out of the war clinging to a mere remnant of its European empire--one single mutilated province which did not pay its way. With the lost territories had gone about one-eighth of the whole population and one-tenth of the total imperial revenue. But when these heavy losses had been cut, there was nothing more of a serious nature to put to debit, but a little even to credit. Ottoman prestige had suffered but slightly in the eyes of the people. The obstinate and successful defence of the Chataldja lines and the subsequent recovery of eastern Thrace with Adrianople, the first European seat of the Osmanlis, had almost effaced the sense of Osmanli disgrace, and stood to the general credit of the Committee and the individual credit of its military leader, Enver Bey. The loss of some thousands of soldiers and much material was compensated by an invaluable lesson in the faultiness of the military system, and especially the _Redif_ organization. The way was now clearer than before for re-making the army on the best European model, the German. The campaign had not been long, nor, as wars go, costly to wage. In the peace Turkey gained a new lease of life from the powers, and, profligate that she was, the promise of more millions of foreign money. Over and above all this an advantage, which she rated above international guarantees, was secured to her--the prospective support of the strongest military power in Europe. The success of Serbia so menaced Germano-Austrian plans for the penetration of the Balkans, that the Central Powers were bound to woo Turkey even more lavishly than before, and to seek alliance where they had been content with influence. In a strong Turkey resided all their hope of saving from the Slavs the way to the Mediterranean. They had kept this policy in view for more than twenty years, and in a hundred ways, by introduction of Germans into the military organization, promotion of German financial enterprise, pushing of German commerce, pressure on behalf of German concessions which would entail provincial influence (for example, the construction of a transcontinental railway in Asia), those powers had been manifesting their interest in Turkey with ever-increasing solicitude. Now they must attach her to themselves with hoops of steel and, with her help, as soon as might be, try to recast the Balkan situation. The experience of the recent war and the prospect in the future made continuance and accentuation of military government in the Ottoman Empire inevitable. The Committee, which had made its way back to power by violent methods, now suppressed its own Constitution almost as completely as Abdul Hamid had suppressed Midhat's parliament. Re-organization of the military personnel, accumulation of war material, strengthening of defences, provision of arsenals, dockyards, and ships, together with devices for obtaining money to pay for all these things, make Ottoman history for the years 1912-14. The bond with Germany was drawn lighter. More German instructors were invited, more German engineers commissioned, more munitions of war paid for in French gold. By 1914 it had become so evident that the Osmanlis must array themselves with Austro-Germany in any European war, that one wonders why a moment's credit was ever given to their protestations of neutrality when that war came at last in August 1914. Turkey then needed other three months to complete her first line of defences and mobilize. These were allowed to her, and in the late autumn she entered the field against Great Britain, France, and Russia, armed with German guns, led by German officers, and fed with German gold. 9 _The Future_ Turkey's situation, therefore, in general terms has become this. With the dissolution of the Concert of Europe the Ottoman Empire has lost what had been for a century its chief security for continued existence. Its fate now depends on that of two European powers which are at war with the rest of the former Concert. Among the last named are Turkey's two principal creditors, holding together about seventy-five per cent. of her public debt. In the event of the defeat of her friends, these creditors will be free to foreclose, the debtor being certainly in no position to meet her obligations. Allied with Christian powers, the Osmanli caliph has proved no more able than his predecessors to unite Islam in his defence; but, for what his title is worth, Mohammed V is still caliph, no rival claim having been put forward. The loyalty of the empire remains where it was, pending victory or defeat, the provinces being slow to realize, and still slower to resent, the disastrous economic state to which the war is reducing them. The present struggle may leave the Osmanli Empire in one of three situations: (1) member of a victorious alliance, reinforced, enlarged, and lightened of financial burdens, as the wages of its sin; (2) member of a defeated alliance, bound to pay the price of blood in loss of territory, or independence, or even existence; (3) party to a compromise under which its territorial empire might conceivably remain Ottoman, but under even stricter European tutelage than of old. The first alternative it would be idle to discuss, for the result of conditions so novel are impossible to foresee. Nor, indeed, when immediate events are so doubtful an at the present moment, is it profitable to attempt to forecast the ultimate result of any of the alternatives. Should, however, either the second or the third become fact, certain general truths about the Osmanlis will govern the consequences; and these must be borne in mind by any in whose hands the disposal of the empire may lie. The influence of the Osmanlis in their empire to-day resides in three things: first, in their possession of Constantinople; second, in the sultan's caliphate and his guardianship of the holy cities of Islam; third, in certain qualities of Osmanli character, notably 'will to power' and courage in the field. What Constantinople means for the Osmanlis is implied in that name _Roum_ by which the western dominions of the Turks have been known ever since the Seljuks won Asia Minor. Apart from the prestige of their own early conquests, the Osmanlis inherited, and in a measure retain in the Near East, the traditional prestige of the greatest empire which ever held it. They stand not only for their own past but also for whatever still lives of the prestige of Rome. Theirs is still the repute of the imperial people _par excellence_, chosen and called to rule. That this repute should continue, after the sweeping victories of Semites and subsequent centuries of Ottoman retreat before other heirs of Rome, is a paradox to be explained only by the fact that a large part of the population of the Near East remains at this day in about the same stage of civilization and knowledge as in the time of, say, Heraclius. The Osmanlis, be it remembered, were and are foreigners in a great part of their Asiatic empire equally with the Greeks of Byzantium or the Romans of Italy; and their establishment in Constantinople nearly five centuries ago did not mean to the indigenous peoples of the Near East what it meant to Europe--a victory of the East over the West--so much as a continuation of immemorial 'Roman' dominion still exercised from the same imperial centre. Since Rome first spread its shadow over the Near East, many men of many races, whose variety was imperfectly realised, if realised at all, by the peasants of Asia Minor, Syria, Mesopotamia, and Egypt, have ruled in its name; the Osmanlis, whose governmental system was in part the Byzantine, made but one more change which meant the same old thing. The peasants know, of course, about those Semitic victories; but they know also that if the Semite has had his day of triumph and imposed, as was right and proper, his God and his Prophet on Roum--even on all mankind as many believed, and some may be found in remoter regions who still believe--he has returned to his own place south of Taurus; and still Roum is Roum, natural indefeasible Lord of the World. Such a belief is dying now, of course; but it dies slowly and hard. It still constitutes a real asset of the Osmanlis, and will not cease to have value until they lose Constantinople. On the possession of the old imperial city it depends for whatever vitality it has. You may demonstrate, as you will, and as many publicists have done since the Balkan War and before, what and how great economic, political, and social advantages would accrue to the Osmanlis, if they could bring themselves to transfer their capital to Asia. Here they would be rid of Rumelia, which costs, and will always cost them, more than it yields. Here they could concentrate Moslems where their co-religionists are already the great majority, and so have done with the everlasting friction and weakness entailed in jurisdiction over preponderant Christian elements. Here they might throw off the remnants of their Byzantinism as a garment and, no longer forced to face two ways, live and govern with single minds as the Asiatics they are. Vain illusion, as Osmanli imperialists know! It is their empire that would fall away as a garment so soon as the Near East realized that they no longer ruled in the Imperial City. Enver Pasha and the Committee were amply justified in straining the resources of the Ottoman Empire to cracking-point, not merely to retain Constantinople but also to recover Adrianople and a territory in Europe large enough to bulk as Roum. Nothing that happened in that war made so greatly for the continuation of the old order in Asiatic Turkey as the reoccupation of Adrianople. The one occasion on which Europeans in Syria had reason to expect a general explosion was when premature rumours of the entry of the Bulgarian army into Stambul gained currency for a few hours. That explosion, had the news proved true or not been contradicted in time, would have been a panic-stricken, ungovernable impulse of anarchy--of men conscious that an old world had passed away and ignorant what conceivable new world could come to be. But the perilous moment passed, to be succeeded by general diffusion of a belief that the inevitable catastrophe was only postponed. In the breathing-time allowed, Arabs, Kurds, and Armenians discussed and planned together revolt from the moribund Osmanli, and, separately, the mutual massacre and plundering of one another. Arab national organizations and nationalist journals sprang to life at Beirut and elsewhere. The revival of Arab empire was talked of, and names of possible capitals and kings were bandied about. One Arab province, the Hasa, actually broke away. Then men began to say that the Bulgarians would not advance beyond Chataldja: the Balkan States were at war among themselves: finally, Adrianople had been re-occupied. And all was as in the beginning. Budding life withered in the Arab movement, and the Near East settled down once more in the persistent shadow of Roum. Such is the first element in Osmanli prestige, doomed to disappear the moment that the Ottoman state relinquishes Europe. Meanwhile there it is for what it is worth; and it is actually worth a tradition of submission, natural and honourable, to a race of superior destiny, which is instinctive in some millions of savage simple hearts. * * * * * What of the second element? The religious prestige of the Ottoman power as the repository of caliphial authority and trustee for Islam in the Holy Land of Arabia, is an asset almost impossible to estimate. Would a death struggle of the Osmanlis in Europe rouse the Sunni world? Would the Moslems of India, Afghanistan, Turkestan, China, and Malaya take up arms for the Ottoman sultan as caliph? Nothing but the event will prove that they would. Jehad, or Holy War, is an obsolescent weapon difficult and dangerous for Young Turks to wield: difficult because their own Islamic sincerity is suspect and they are taking the field now as clients of _giaur_ peoples; dangerous because the Ottoman nation itself includes numerous Christian elements, indispensable to its economy. Undoubtedly, however, the Ottoman sultanate can count on its religious prestige appealing widely, overriding counteracting sentiments, and, if it rouses to action, rousing the most dangerous temper of all. It is futile to ignore the caliph because he is not of the Koreish, and owes his dignity to a sixteenth-century transfer. These facts are either unknown or not borne in mind by half the Sunnites on whom he might call, and weigh far less with the other half than his hereditary dominion over the Holy Cities, sanctioned by the prescription of nearly four centuries. One thing can be foretold with certainty. The religious prestige of an Ottoman sultan, who had definitely lost control of the Holy Places, would cease as quickly and utterly as the secular prestige of one who had evacuated Constantinople: and since the loss of the latter would probably precipitate an Arab revolt, and cut off the Hejaz, the religious element in Ottoman prestige may be said to depend on Constantinople as much as the secular. All the more reason why the Committee of Union and Progress should not have accepted that well-meant advice of European publicists! A successful revolt of the Arab-speaking provinces would indeed sound the death-knell of the Ottoman Empire. No other event would be so immediately and surely catastrophic. * * * * * The third element in Osmanli prestige, inherent qualities of the Osmanli 'Turk' himself, will be admitted by every one who knows him and his history. To say that he has the 'will to power' is not, however, to say that he has an aptitude for government. He wishes to govern others; his will to do so imposes itself on peoples who have not the same will; they give way to him and he governs them indifferently, though often better than they can govern themselves. For example, bad as, according to our standards, Turkish government is, native Arab government, when not in tutelage to Europeans, has generally proved itself worse, when tried in the Ottoman area in modern times. Where it is of a purely Bedawi barbaric type, as in the emirates of central Arabia, it does well enough; but if the population be contaminated ever so little with non-Arab elements, practices, or ideas, Arab administration seems incapable of producing effective government. It has had chances in the Holy Cities at intervals, and for longer periods in the Yemen. But a European, long resident in the latter country, who has groaned under Turkish administration, where it has always been most oppressive, bore witness that the rule of the native Imam only served to replace oppressive government by oppressive anarchy. As for the Osmanli's courage as a fighting man, that has often been exemplified, and never better than in the Gallipoli peninsula. It is admitted. The European and Anatolian Osmanlis yield little one to the other in this virtue; but the palm, if awarded at all, must be given to the levies from northern and central Asia Minor. * * * * * If Constantinople should be lost, the Arab-speaking parts of the empire would in all likelihood break away, carrying the Holy Cities with them. When the constant risk of this consummation, with the cataclysmic nature of its consequences is considered, one marvels why the Committee, which has shown no mean understanding of some conditions essential to Osmanli empire, should have done so little hitherto to conciliate Arab susceptibilities. Neither in the constitution of the parliament nor in the higher commands of the army have the Arab-speaking peoples been given anything like their fair share; and loudly and insistently have they protested. Perhaps the Committee, whose leading members are of a markedly Europeanized type, understands Asia less well than Europe. Certainly its programme of Ottomanization, elaborated by military ex-attachés, by Jew bankers and officials from Salonika, and by doctors, lawyers, and other _intellectuels_ fresh from Paris, was conceived on lines which offered the pure Asiatic very little scope. The free and equal Osmanlis were all to take their cue from men of the Byzantine sort which the European provinces, and especially the city of Constantinople, breed. After the revolution, nothing in Turkey struck one so much as the apparition on the top of things everywhere of a type of Osmanli who has the characteristic qualities of the Levantine Greek. Young officers, controlling their elders, only needed a change of uniform to pass in an Athenian crowd. Spare and dapper officials, presiding in seats of authority over Kurds and Arabs, reminded one of Greek journalists. Osmanli journalists themselves treated one to rhodomontades punctuated with restless gesticulation, which revived memories of Athenian cafés in war-time. It was the Byzantine triumphing over the Asiatic; and the most Asiatic elements in the empire were the least likely to meet with the appreciation or sympathy of the Byzantines. Are the Arab-speaking peoples, therefore, likely to revolt, or be successful in splitting the Ottoman Empire, if they do? The present writer would like to say, in parenthesis, that, in his opinion, this consummation of the empire is not devoutly to be wished. The substitution of Arab administration for Osmanli would necessarily entail European tutelage of the parts of the Arab-speaking area in which powers, like ourselves, have vital interests--Syria, for example, southern Mesopotamia, and, probably, Hejaz. The last named, in particular, would involve us in so ticklish and thankless a task, that one can only be thankful for the Turkish caretaker there to-day, and loth to see him dismissed. An Arab revolt, however, might break out whether the Triple Entente desired its success or not. What chance of success would it have? The peoples of the Arab part of the Ottoman Empire are a congeries of differing races, creeds, sects, and social systems, with no common bond except language. The physical character of their land compels a good third of them to be nomadic, predatory barbarians, feared by the other two-thirds. The settled folk are divided into Moslem and Christian (not to mention a large Jewish element), the cleavage being more abrupt than in western Turkey and the tradition and actual spirit of mutual enmity more separative. Further, each of those main creed-divisions is subdivided. Even Islam in this region includes a number of incompatible sects, such as the Ansariye, the Metawali, and the Druses in the Syrian mountains, Shiite Arabs on the Gulf coast and the Persian border, with pagan Kurds and Yezidis in the latter region and north Mesopotamia. As for the Christians, their divisions are notorious, most of these being subdivided again into two or more hostile communions apiece. It is almost impossible to imagine the inhabitants of Syria concerting a common plan or taking common action. The only elements among them which have shown any political sense or capacity for political organization are Christian. The Maronites of the Lebanon are most conspicuous among these; but neither their numbers nor their traditional relations with their neighbours qualify them to form the nucleus of a free united Syria. The 'Arab Movement' up to the present has consisted in little more than talk and journalese. It has not developed any considerable organization to meet that stable efficient organization which the Committee of Union and Progress has directed throughout the Ottoman dominions. As for the rest of the empire, Asia Minor will stand by the Osmanli cause, even if Europe and Constantinople, and even if the Holy Places and all the Arab-speaking provinces be lost. Its allegiance does not depend on either the tradition of Roum or the caliphate, but on essential unity with the Osmanli nation. Asia Minor is the nation. There, prepared equally by Byzantine domination and by Seljukian influence, the great mass of the people long ago identified itself insensibly and completely with the tradition and hope of the Osmanlis. The subsequent occupation of the Byzantine capital by the heirs of the Byzantine system, and their still later assumption of caliphial responsibility, were not needed to cement the union. Even a military occupation by Russia or by another strong power would not detach Anatolia from the Osmanli unity; for a thing cannot be detached from itself. But, of course, that occupation might after long years cause the unity itself to cease to be. Such an occupation, however, would probably not be seriously resisted or subsequently rebelled against by the Moslem majority in Asia Minor, supposing Osmanli armaments to have been crushed. The Anatolian population is a sober, labouring peasantry, essentially agricultural and wedded to the soil. The levies for Yemen and Europe, which have gone far to deplete and exhaust it of recent years, were composed of men who fought to order and without imagination, steadily and faithfully, as their fathers had fought. They have no lust for war, no Arabian tradition of fighting for its own sake, and little, if any, fanaticism. Attempts to inspire Anatolian troops with religious rage in the Balkan War were failures. They were asked to fight in too modern a way under too many Teutonic officers. The result illustrated a prophecy ascribed to Ghasri Mukhtar Pasha. When German instructors were first introduced into Turkey, he foretold that they would be the end of the Ottoman army. No, these Anatolians desire nothing better than to follow their plough-oxen, and live their common village life, under any master who will let them be. Elements of the Christian minority, however, Armenian and Greek, would give trouble with their developed ideas of nationality and irrepressible tendency to 'Europize'. They would present, indeed, problems of which at present one cannot foresee the solution. It seems inevitable that an autonomous Armenia, like an autonomous Poland, must be constituted ere long; but where? There is no geographical unit of the Ottoman area in which Armenians are the majority. If they cluster more thickly in the vilayets of Angora, Sivas, Erzerum, Kharput, and Van, i.e. in easternmost Asia Minor, than elsewhere, and form a village people of the soil, they are consistently a minority in any large administrative district. Numerous, too, in the trans-Tauric vilayets of Adana and Aleppo, the seat of their most recent independence, they are townsmen in the main, and not an essential element of the agricultural population. Even if a considerable proportion of the Armenians, now dispersed through towns of western Asia Minor and in Constantinople, could be induced to concentrate in a reconstituted Armenia (which is doubtful, seeing how addicted they are to general commerce and what may be called parasitic life), they could not fill out both the Greater and the Lesser Armenias of history, in sufficient strength to overbear the Osmanli and Kurdish elements. The widest area which might he constituted an autonomous Armenia with good prospect of self-sufficiency would be the present Russian province, where the head-quarters of the national religion lie, with the addition of the provinces of Erzerum, Van, and Kharput. But, if Russia had brought herself to make a self-denying ordinance, she would have to police her new Armenia very strongly for some years; for an acute Kurdish problem would confront it, and no concentration of nationals could be looked for from the Armenia Irredenta of Diarbekr, Urfa, Aleppo, Aintab, Marash, Adana, Kaisariyeh, Sivas, Angora, and Trebizond (not to mention farther and more foreign towns), until public security was assured in what for generations has been a cockpit. The Kurd is, of course, an Indo-European as much as the Armenian, and rarely a true Moslem; but it would be a very long time indeed before these facts reconciled him to the domination of the race which he has plundered for three centuries. Most of the Osmanlis of eastern Asia Minor are descendants of converted Armenians; but their assimilation would be slow and doubtful. Islam, more rapidly and completely than any other creed, extinguishes racial sympathies and groups its adherents anew. The Anatolian Greeks are less numerous but not less difficult to provide for. The scattered groups of them on the plateau--in Cappadocia, Pontus, the Konia district--and on the eastward coast-lands would offer no serious difficulty to a lord of the interior. But those in the western river-basins from Isbarta to the Marmora, and those on the western and north-western littorals, are of a more advanced and cohesive political character, imbued with nationalism, intimate with their independent nationals, and actively interested in Hellenic national politics. What happens at Athens has long concerned them more than what happens at Constantinople; and with Greece occupying the islands in the daily view of many of them, they are coming to regard themselves more and more every day as citizens of Graecia Irredenta. What is to be done with these? What, in particular, with Smyrna, the second city of the Ottoman Empire and the first of 'Magna Graecia'? Its three and a half hundred thousand souls include the largest Greek urban population resident in any one city. Shall it be united to Greece? Greece herself might well hesitate. It would prove a very irksome possession, involving her in all sorts of continental difficulties and risks. There is no good frontier inland for such an _enclave_. It could hardly be held without the rest of westernmost Asia, from Caria to the Dardanelles, and in this region the great majority of the population is Moslem of old stocks, devotedly attached both to their faith and to the Osmanli tradition. The present writer, however, is not among the prophets. He has but tried to set forth what may delay and what may precipitate the collapse of an empire, whose doom has been long foreseen, often planned, invariably postponed; and, further, to indicate some difficulties which, being bound to confront heirs of the Osmanlis, will be better met the better they are understood before the final agony--If this is, indeed, to be! INDEX Abbasid Empire, Abdul Aziz, Sultan, Abdul Hamid, Sultan, Abdul Mejid, Sultan, Achaia, Achmet III: _see_ Ahmed III. Adalia, Adana, Aden, Adhamandios Koráis, Adrianople, captured by the Turks (1361), captured by Serbians and Bulgarians (1913), first European seat of the Osmanlis, foundation of, Peace and Treaty of (1829), restored to Turkey (1913), Russians before (1878), siege of (1912-13), Adriatic, the, Aegean, the, islands of, trade of, Aehrenthal, Baron and Count, Afium Kara Hissar, Agram (Zagreb), capital of Croatia, Agram high treason trial, the, Agrapha, clansmen of, Ahiolu (Anchialo), Ahmed I, Sultan, Ahmed III, Sultan, Ahmed ibn Tulun, Aidin, Aintab, Aigina, Ainos, _See also_ Enos. Aivali, _See also_ Kydhonies. Akarnania, Akerman, Convention of (1826), Alaeddin, Sultan, Ala Shehr (Philadelphia), Albania, and the Macedonian question, conquest of, by the Turks, during the Slav immigration, in classical times, made independent, revolts against Young Turks, under the Turks, Albanian language, the, Albanians, the, migrations of, Aleppo, Alexander the Great, Alexander I, King of Serbia (1889-1903), Alexander I, Emperor of Russia, Alexander II, Emperor of Russia, Alexander III, Emperor of Russia, Alexander, Crown Prince of Serbia, Alexander of Battenberg, Prince of Bulgaria (1879-85), Alexander Karagjorgjevi['c], Prince of Serbia (1843-58), Alexandria, Alexis Comnenus, the Emperor, Ali Pasha, Ambelakia, America, effect of emigration from south-eastern Europe to, Anatolia, the Turks and, character of the population, feudal families, Anatolikón, captured by the Turks (1825), Andrassy, Count, Angora, battle of (1402), Arabia, Turkish prestige in, and the Turks, movement of, in the direction of revolt, Arabs and Anatolia, and Bulgars, and Islam, Arcadiopolis: _see_ Lule-Burgas. Argos, Arian controversy, the, Armatoli, or Christian militia, Armenians, the, character of the, massacres of (1894), Arnauts: _see_ Albanians. Arta, Gulf of, plain of, Asen dynasty, the, Asia Minor, Turks in, Asparukh (Bulgar prince), Aspropotamo, the, Astypalià, Athens, Duchy of, University of, siege of (1821-2), (1827), Athos, Mount, Attila, Austerlitz, battle of (1805), Austria-Hungary and the Adriatic, and the Macedonian question, and Serbia, relations between, and the Serbs, and the Treaty of Berlin, and Turkey, relations between, wars between, annexation of Bosnia and Hercegovina by, occupation of Bosnia and Hercegovina by, relations with the Balkan League, relations with Rumania, Ruman and South Slavonic populations in, Austrian politics in Rumania, Austrians and Serbs, relations between, and Turks, Avars, the: their invasion of the Balkan peninsula with the Slavs, their war with the Bulgars, Avlona, bay of, Avshar tribe, 'Ayon Oros', Azerbaijan, Ba[)c]ka, Bagdad, 'Balance of Power', the, Balkan League, the, formation of the, dissolution of the, Balkan peninsula, the, annexation of, by Mohammed II, control of, economic unity of, German policy in, nationalism in, Slav inhabitants of, Turkish power in, under Roman rule, Balkan States, relations between the, zollverein, Balkan war, the first (1912-13), the second (June 1913), Banat, the, Baranya, Basil I, the Emperor, Basil II, the Emperor, 'Slayer of the Bulgars', Bassarab, dynasty of, Bayezid I, Sultan, Bayezid II, Sultan, Beaconsfield, Earl of, Beirut, Belgrade, capital of Serbia, captured by the Serbs (1807), captured by the Turks (1521), (1813), its Celtic name, Treaty of (1739), Belisarius, Berchtold, Count, Bergama, Berlin, Congress of (1878), Treaty of (1878), Bessarabia, Bulgars in, 25, lost(1812), regained (1856), lost again (1878), importance with regard to present situation, Bieberstein, Duron Marschall von, Bismarck, Bitolj: _see_ Monastir. Black Castle of Afiun, Black Sea, Russian exclusion from, Bogomil heresy, the, Boja, lord of Kashgar, Boris, Bulgar prince (852-88), Boris, Crown Prince of Bulgaria, Bosnia, annexation of, independence of, and conquest of, by the Turks, in relation to the other Serb territories, its Slavonic population, relations of, with Hungary, revolts in, against Turkey, under Austro-Hungarian rule, under Turkish rule, Bosphorus, the, Botzaris, Marko, Brankovi['c], George, Brankovi['c], Vuk, Bratianu, Ioan (father), (son), Bregalnica, battle of the (1913), Brusa, Bucarest, Committee of, Peace Conference (1913), Treaty of (1812), (1913), Bucovina, acquisition by Austria, Rumanians in, Buda, Budapest, in relation to the Serbo-Croats, Budua, Bulgaria, declaration of independence by, and assumption of title Tsar by its ruler, conflicting interests with Greece, early wars between, and the Greeks, geographical position of, growth of, intervention on the side of the Central Powers in the European War, its division into eastern and western, extent of western, in the two Balkan wars (1912-13), its early relations with Rome, its relations with Russia, obtains recognition as a nationality in the Ottoman Empire, of Slav speech and culture, place of, in the Balkan peninsula, Turkish atrocities in, Bulgaria and Rumania, Bulgaria and Serbia, contrasted, the agreement between, wars between (1885, 1913), Bulgaria and Turkey, relations between, Bulgarian bishoprics in Macedonia, Church, early vicissitudes of the, claims and propaganda in Macedonia, Exarchist Church, the, literature, monarchy, origins of the, Bulgarians, general distribution of, their attitude to the Slavs and the Germans, Bulgarians and Serbians, contrast between, Bulgars, the, their origin, their advance westwards and then southwards into the Balkan peninsula, their absorption by the Slavs, north of the Danube, adherents of the Orthodox Church, Burke, Edmund, Byron, Lord, Byzantine Christianity, commerce, diplomacy, its attitude towards the Slav and other invaders, Empire, heritage and expansion of, by the Turks, Byzantium, ascendancy of, over Bulgaria, decline of, Greek colony of, Roman administrative centre, Cairo, Caliphate, the, Campo Formio, Treaty of (1797), Candia, siege of, Canea, Cantucuzene, John, Cape Malea, Cappadocia, Caria, Carinthia, Carlowitz, Treaty of (1699), Carniola, Carol, Prince of Rumania, his accession, joins Russia against Turkey, intention to abdicate, proclaimed king, King, and the Balkans, personal points, Carp, P.P., Carpathian mountains, the, Catargiu, Lascar, Catherine, Empress, Cattaro, Bocche di, Caucasia, Cefalonia, Celts, the, in the Balkan peninsula, Cerigo, Cetina river (Dalmatia), Cetinje, Chaeronea, Charlemagne, crushes the Avars, Charles VI, Emperor of Austria, Charles, Prince and King of Rumania: _see_ Carol. [)C]aslav, revolts against Bulgars, Chataldja, lines of, Chesme, destruction of Turkish fleet in, Chios: _see_ Khios. Christianity, in the Balkan peninsula in classical times, introduced into Bulgaria, introduced amongst the Serbs, Christians, their treatment by the Turks, Church, division of the, affects the Serbs and Croats, Church, Generalissimo Sir Richard, Churches, rivalry of the eastern and western, Cilicia, Claudius, the Emperor, Coalition, Serbo-Croat or Croato-Serb, the, Cochrane, Grand Admiral, Cogalniceanu, M., Comnenus: _see_ Alexis _and_ Manuel. Concert of Europe, Constantine the Great, Constantine, King of Greece, Constantine, ruler of Bulgaria, Constantinople, and the Serbian Church, ascendancy of, over Bulgaria, cathedral of Aya Sophia, commercial interests of, decline of, defences of, ecclesiastical influence of, fall of (1204), (1453), its position at the beginning of the barbarian invasions, made an imperial city, Patriarchate at, 'Phanari', the, spiritual rivalry of, with Rome, Constitution, Rumanian, Corfù, Corinth: _see_ Korinth. Crete: _see_ Krete. Crimea, abandoned to Russia, Crimean War, the, Croatia, absorbed by Hungary, position of, in relation to the Serb territories, Croato-Serb unity, movement in favour of, Croats, Crotians, general distribution of, their origin, Croats and Serbs, difference between, Crusaders, the, in the Balkan peninsula, Crusades; the first; the fourth, Cuza, Prince of Rumania, Cyclades, the, Cyprus, in Latin hands, in Ottoman hands, under the British, Cyrenaica, Cyril, St., Cyrillic alphabet, the, Dacia, subjection to, and abandonment by, the Romans, Dacians, settlement in Carpathian regions, wars with Rome, Dalmatia, acquired by Austria-Hungary, and Venice, in classical times, in relation to other Serb territories, its Slavonic population, relations of, with Hungary, Daniel, Prince-Bishop of Montenegro, Danilo, Prince of Montenegro, Danube, the, as frontier of Roman Empire, Danube _(continued)_: Bulgars cross the, Slavs cross the, Danubian principalities, Russian protectorate in, Dardanelles, the, Decius, the Emperor, Dedeagach, Deliyannis, Demotika, Dhimitzána, Diocletian, the Emperor, his redistribution of the imperial provinces, Dnieper, the, Dniester, the, Dobrudja, acquisition by Rumania, Bulgarian aspirations in regard to, Draga, Queen-Consort of Serbia, Dramali, Drave, the, Drina, the, Dubrovnik: _see_ Ragusa. Dulcigno (Ulcinj), Durazzo, Durostorum: _see_ Silistria. Dushan: _see_ Stephen Du[)s]an. Eastern Church, the, Eastern Slavs; _see_ Russians. Edremid, Egypt, Egyptian expedition (1823-4), Enos-Midia line, the, Enver Bey, Epirus, power of Hellenism in, Ertogrul, Osmanli chief, Erzerum, Eugen, Prince, of Savoy, Euphrates, the, Euxine trade, Evyénios Voulgáris, Exarchist Church, the, Fabvier, Ferdinand, Prince and King of Bulgaria (1886-), his relations with foreign powers, Ferdinand, King of Rumania, Filipescu, Nicholas, Fiume (Rjeka), France, and the Macedonian question, and the struggle for Greek independence, and the struggle for the Mediterranean, and the Turks, relations with Rumania, French, the, in the Balkan peninsula, in Dalmatia, in Morocco, influence in Rumania, French Revolution and the rights of nationalities, Friedjung, Dr., and the accusation against Serbia, Galaxidhi, Galicia, Gallipoli, Genoese, George, Crown Prince of Serbia, George, King of Greece, assassination of, George, Prince of Greece, German diplomacy at Constantinople, influence in the Near East, influence in Rumania, influence in Turkey, German Empire, restlessness of, German hierarchy, early struggles of, against Slavonic liturgy, Germanic peoples, southward movement of, Germanòs, metropolitan bishop of Patrae, Germany and the Turkish frontier, efforts to reach the Adriatic, its expansion eastward, and the Macedonian question, and Russia, relations between, and the Treaty of Berlin, relations with Rumania, revolutions promoted by, Gjorgjevi['c], Dr. V., Golden Horn, Goluchowski, Count, Gorazd, Gorchakov, Prince, Goths, invasion of the, Great Britain and the Balkan States, relations between, and Egypt, and Rumania, and Syria, and the Ionian Islands, and the Macedonian question, and the struggle for Greek independence, and the struggle for the Mediterranean, and the Treaty of Berlin, loan to Greece, occupation of Cyprus, Greece, anarchy in, ancient, and Macedonia, and Russia, and Serbia, and the adjacent islands, and the Christian religion, and the first Balkan war, and the Ionian Islands, and the Orthodox Church, and the Slav migration, brigandage in, conflict of interests with Bulgaria, conquest of, by the Turks, delimitation of the frontier (1829), dispute with Italy as to possession of Epirus, effect of the French Revolution on, invasion of, by Goths, land-tax, loans to, local liberties, 'Military League' of 1909, minerals of, monarchy established, and its results, 'National Assembly', oppressive relations with Turkey, and efforts for liberation, revolutions in 1843 and 1862. territorial contact with Turkey. 'tribute-children' for Turkish army from. war with Turkey (1828); (1897); (1912). Greek agriculture. anti-Greek movement in Rumania. army. art and architecture. ascendancy in Bulgaria. _bourgeoisie_. claims and propaganda in Macedonia. coalition with the Seljuks. commerce and economic progress. dialects of Ancient Greece. education. influence in the Balkan peninsula. influence in Bulgaria. influence in Rumania. language in Rumanian Church. literature. monastic culture. nationalism. national religion. navy. officials tinder the Turks. Patriarch. public finance. public spirit. public works. railways. renaissance. shipping. unity. Greek Empire, decline of. Greek hierarchy, in Bulgaria, the. Greeks, Anatolian. Byzantine. general distribution of. Ottoman. their attitude with regard to the barbarian invasions. Gregorios, Greek Patriarch at Constantinople. Gulkhaneh. Hadrian, the Emperor. Haliacmon Valley. Halys river. Hasa. Hatti Sherif. Hejaz. Hellenic culture and civilization. Hellenic Republic. Hellespont, the. Hercegovina. annexation of, by Austria-Hungary. its Slavonic population. origin and independence of, and conquest of, by the Turks. revolts in, against Turkey. under Austro-Hungarian rule. under Turkish rule. Hilmi Pasha. Hungarians. and the Turks. invade the Balkan peninsula. Hungary, and the Balkan peninsula, and the Serbo-Croats, and the Serbs, and Turkey, wars between, conquest of, by Suleiman I, growth of, loss of, by the Turks, Slavs in, Huns, arrival of the, in Europe, their origin, settled in Hungary, Hunyadi, John, Hydhra and the Hydhriots, Hypsilantis, Prince Alexander, Prince Demetrius, Ibar, the, Ibrahim Pasha, Ida, Mount, Ignatiyev, Count, Illyria, Celtic invasion of, prefecture of, Roman conquest of, Illyrians, the, Imbros, Ionescu, Take, Ionian islands, presented to Greece by Great Britain, Ipek: _see_ Pe['c] Iran, Iskanderoun, Gulf of, Italian influence in the Balkan peninsula, trading cities, Italy, and the Macedonian question, and the possession of Epirus, diocese of, prefecture of, war with Turkey (1911-12), Ivan III, Tsar of Russia, Ivan IV, Tsar of Russia, Jehad, or Holy War, Jenghis Khan, Jerusalem, Jews, at Constantinople, in Rumania, in Turkey, Jezzar the Butcher, Jidda, John Alexander, ruler of Bulgaria, John Asen I, Bulgar Tsar (1186-96), John Asen II, Bulgar Tsar (1218-41), John Tzimisces, the Emperor, John the Terrible, Prince of Moldavia, Joseph II, Emperor of Austria, Judah, Jugo-Slav(ia), Justin I, the Emperor, Justinian I, the Emperor, Kaisariyeh, Kalamata, Kaloian, Bulgar Tsar (1196-1207), Kama, Bulgars on the, Kanaris, Constantine, Kapodistrias, John, Kara-George (Petrovi['c]), Karagjorgjevi['c] (sc. family of Kara-George) dynasty, the, Karaiskakis, Karamania, Karasi, Karlovci (Carlowitz, Karlowitz), Karpathos, Kasos; destruction of (1824), Kavala, Kazan, Khalkidhiki, Kharput, siege of (1822), Khorasan, Khurshid Pasha, Kiev, Kilkish, Greek victory at, Kirk-Kilissé, battle of, Kisseleff, Count, Kladovo, Knights Hospitallers of St. John, Kochana, Kolettis, Kolokotrónis, Theodore, Kondouriottis, Konia, battle of, Kopais basin, draining of, Korinth, surrender of (1822), Korinthian Gulf, Kos, Kosovo, vilayet of, Kosovo Polje, battle of, Kraljevi['c], Marko: _see_ Marko K. Krete, conquest of, by Turks, intervention of the powers and constituted an autonomous state, speech of, Krum (Bulgar prince), Kru[)s]evac, Kubrat (Bulgar prince), Kumanovo, battle of (1912), Kumans, the Tartar, Kurdistan, Kurds, the, Kutchuk Kainardji, Treaty of, Kydhonies, destruction of, Laibach (Ljubljana), Lansdowne, Marquess of, Lárissa, Latin Empire at Constantinople, the, influence in the Balkan peninsula, Lausanne, Treaty of (1912), Lazar (Serbian Prince), 'League of Friends', Leipsic, battle of (1813), Lemnos, Leo, the Emperor, Leopold II, Emperor of Austria, Lepanto, battle of (1571), Lerna, Leskovac, Levant, the, commerce of, Libyan war (1911-12), Lombards, the, London, Conference of (1912-13), Treaty of (1913), Louis, conquers the Serbs, Lule-Burgas, battle of (1912), Macedonia, anarchy in, defeat of the Turks by the Serbians in, establishment of Turks in, general characteristics of, in classical times, inhabitants of, revolt in, place-names in, Macedonian question, the, Slavs, the, Magnesia, Magyars, the, their irruption into Europe, growing power and ambitions of the, influence upon the Rumanians, Mahmud I, Sultan, Mahmud II, Sultan, Maina, Maiorescu, Titu Malasgerd, battle of, Malta, siege of, Mamelukes, Egyptian, Manichaean heresy, the, Manuel Comnenus, the Emperor, Marash, Marcus Aurelius, the Emperor, Marghiloman, Alexander, Maria Theresa, Empress of Austria, Maritsa, the, battle of, Marko Kraljevi['c], Marmora, Sea of, Mavrokordatos, Alexander, Mavromichalis clan, Mavromichalis, Petros, Mediterranean, the, Megaspélaion, Mehemet Ali: _see_ Mohammed Ali. Melek Shah, of Persia, Mendere (Maiandros), Mesolonghi, Mesopotamia, Messenia, Mesta, Metéora, Methodius, St., Michael Obrenovi['c] III, Prince of Serbia (1840-2, 1860-8), Michael III, the Emperor, Michael the Brave, Prince of Wallachia, Midhat Pasha and representative institutions in Turkey, Media, Milan Obrenovi['c] II, Prince of Serbia (1839), Milan Obrenovi['c] IV, Prince and King of Serbia (1868-89), Mile[)s]evo, monastery of, Milica, Princess, Military colonies, Austro-Hungarian, of Serbs against Turkey, Milo[)s] Obrenovi['c] I, Prince of Serbia (1817-39, 1858-60), Milovanovi['c], Dr., Mircea the Old, Prince of Wallachia, Misivria (Mesembria), Mitylini, Modhon, Mohacs, battle of, Mohammed II, Sultan, Mohammed IV, Sultan, Mohammed V, Sultan, Mohammed Ali Pasha, of Egypt, Mohammedan influence in the Balkan peninsula, Mohammedan Serbs, of Bosnia and Hercegovina, the, Moldavia, foundation of, Monastir (Bitolj, in Serbian), battle of (1912), Montenegro, achieves its independence, and the Balkan League, autonomous, becomes a kingdom, conquered by the Turks, during the Napoleonic wars, in the Balkan war (1912-13), position of, amongst the other Serb territories, relations with Russia, revolt in, under Turkish rule, war with Turkey, Montesquieu, Morava, the, Moravia, its conversion to Christianity, Morea: _see_ Peloponnesos. Morocco crisis, the, Moslems, Mukhtar Pasha, Muntenia (Wallachia), foundation of, Murad I, Sultan, murder of, Murad II, Sultan, Murad III, Sultan, Murad V, Sultan, Murzsteg programme of reforms, the, Mustapha II, Sultan, Mustapha III, Sultan, Naissus: _see_ Nish. Napoleon I, Napoleon III, and Rumania, Natalie, Queen-Consort of Serbia, Nationalism, Nauplia, fall of (1822), Nauplia Bay, Navarino, battle of (1827), Negrepont, Nemanja dynasty, the, Nicaea, Nicholas I, Prince and King of Montenegro (1860-), Nicholas I, Emperor of Russia, Nicholas II, Emperor of Russia, Nicomedia, Nikarià, 230. Nikiphóros Phokas, the Emperor, Nikopolis, battle of, Nik[)s]i['c], Nilufer, Nish (Naissus, Ni[)s]), Celtic origin, Goths defeated at, Bulgarians march on, geographical position of, Nish-Salonika railway, Nizib, Normans, the, Novae: _see_ Svishtov. Novi Pazar, Sandjak of, occupied by Austria-Hungary, evacuated by Austria-Hungary, occupied by Serbia and Montenegro, Obili['c], Milo[)s], Obrenovi['c] dynasty, the, Odessa, Committee of, Odhyssèus, Oecumenical Patriarch, the, Okhrida, Archbishopric and Patriarchate of, Lake of, Old Serbia (northern Macedonia), Orient, prefecture of the, Orkhan, Orthodox Church: _see_ Eastern Church. Osman (Othman), Sultan, Osmanli: _see_ Turkey _and_ Turks. Ostrogoths, the, Otranto, straits of, Otto, Prince, of Bavaria, King of Greece, driven into exile, Ottoman Empire: _see_ Turkey. Ouchy, Treaty of: _see_ Lausanne, Treaty of. Oxus, Palaiologos, Romaic dynasty of, Pannonia, Bulgars in, Pan-Serb movement, the Pan-Slavism, Paris, Congress of (1856), Convention (1858), Treaty of (1856), Pa[)s]a, M, Passarowitz, Treaty of, Pasvanoghlu, Patmos, Patras, Gulf of, Paul, Emperor of Russia, Paulicians, the, Pe['c] (Ipek, in Turkish), patriarchate of, Pechenegs, the Tartar, Petraeus, 'Peloponnesian Senate', Peloponnesos (Morea), Pera, Persia and the Turks, at war with Constantinople, Grand Seljuk of, Persian Gulf, Peter the Great, 'Testament' of, Peter, Bulgar Tsar (927-69) Peter I, King of Serbia (1903), Peter I, Prince-Bishop of Montenegro, Petrovi['c]-Njego[)s], dynasty of, Petta, battle of, Phanariote Greeks, the, _See_ Greek officials under the Turks, _and_ Turkey, Phanariot régime. 'Philhellenes', 'Philikì Hetairia', Philip, Count of Flanders, Philip of Macedonia, Philippopolis, Bogomil centre, foundation of, revolts against Turks, Pindus, Pirot, Place-names, the distribution of classical, indigenous, and Slavonic, in the Balkan peninsula, Plevna, siege of, Podgorica, Poland, Pontus, Popes, attitude of the, towards the Slavonic liturgy, Poros, Porto Lagos, Po[)z]arevac, Preslav, Bulgarian capital, Prespa, Pressburg, Treaty of (1805), Prilep, battle of (1912), 'Primates', the, Prizren, Prussia and Austria, war between (1866), Psarà, Radowitz, Baron von, Ragusa (Dubrovnik, in Serbian), its relations with the Serbian state, prosperity of, under Turkish rule, decline of, Railways in the Balkan peninsula, Rashid Pasha, Ra[)s]ka, centre of Serb state, Règlement Organique, Religious divisions in the Balkan peninsula, Resna, in Macedonia, Rhodes, siege of, Risti['c], M., Rodosto, Romaic architecture, government, language, 'Romaioi', Roman Catholicism in the Balkan peninsula, Roman Empire, Roman law, Rome, its conquest of the Balkan peninsula, relations of, with Bulgaria, relations of, with Serbia, spiritual rivalry of, with Constantinople, Rosetti, C.A., Rovine, battle of, Rumania and the Balkan peninsula, and the second Balkan war(1913), and Bulgaria, and the Russo-Turkish war (1877), anti-Greek movement in, anti-Russian revolution in, commerce of, convention with Russia (1877), dynastic question in, education in, influences at work in, military situation, nationalist activity in, neutrality of, origins of, Patriarch's authority in, peasantry of, Phanariotes in, political parties in, politics of, internal, relations with Russia, religion and Church in, Roman civilization, influence in, rural question in, Russian influence in; politics in, struggle for independence, territorial gains, territorial losses, Turkish rule in, Upper class in (cneazi, boyards), origins of, social evolution of, economic and political supremacy, Rumanian army, claims in Macedonia, principalities, foundation of, union of, revolt (1822), Rumanians, early evidences of, in Bessarabia, in Bucovina, in Hungary, in Macedonia, Rumelia, Eastern, Russia and Bulgaria, and Greece, and Montenegro, and Rumania, and Serbia, and Turkey, and the Macedonian question, and the struggle for Greek independence, Bulgars in, commercial treaty with Turkey (1783), convention with Rumania (1877), conversion to Christianity, occupation of Kars, re-organization under Peter the Great, wars with Turkey (1769-84), (1787), (1807), (1828), (1877-8), (1914-15), Russian diplomacy at Constantinople, influence in Bulgaria, invasion of Balkan peninsula, relations with the Balkan Christians, relations with the Balkan League, Russians, the, comparison of, with the Southern Slavs, _see_ Slavs, the Eastern, [)S]abac (Shabatz), Salisbury, Lord, Salonika, Salonika-Nish railway, the, Samos, Samothraki, Samuel, Tsar of western Bulgaria (977-1014), San Stefano, Treaty of (1878), Saracens, the, Sarajevo, capital of Bosnia, Sava, St., Save, the, Scutari (di Albania), Skodra, Selim I, Sultan, Selim III, Sultan, Seljuks, the, Semendria: _see_ Smederevo. Semites, the, Serb migrations, national life, centres of, political centres, race, home of the, territories, divisions of the, Serbia and Austria-Hungary, relations between, and Bulgaria, contrasted, the agreement between, and Macedonia, and Russia, relations between, and the annexation of Bosnia and Hercegovina, and the Balkan League, and Turkey, dissensions in, geography of, Patriarch's authority in, the barrier to German expansion eastwards, Turkish conquest of, wars with Turkey (1875-7), Serbian Church, the, claims and propaganda in Macedonia, Empire, its extent under Stephen Du[)s]an, literature, nation, centre of gravity of, principality, its extent in 1830, Serbo-Bulgarian war (1885), (1913), Serbo-Croat nationality, formation of the, Serbo-Croat unity, movement in favour of, Serbo-Croats, general distribution of, Serbs, defeat Bulgars and Greeks, distribution of the, in the Balkan peninsula, general distribution of the, north of the Danube, outside the boundaries of the Serb state, religious persecution of, revolt against Bulgaria, revolt against the Magyars, revolts against Turkey, their attitude towards the Germans, Serbs and Croats, difference between, Shabatz: _see_ [)S]abac. Shipka Pass, Shishman, revolts against Bulgaria, Sicily, Silistria, Simeon the Great, Bulgar Tsar (893-927), Singidunum: _see_ Belgrade. Sitvatorok, Treaty of, Sivas, Skanderbey, Skodra: _see_ Scutari. Skoplje (�sküb, in Turkish), Slav influence in Rumania, Slavonia, absorbed by Hungary, Slavonic immigration, the streams of, in the Balkan peninsula, languages, the, use of, in Rumanian Church, liturgy, the, southern, nationalities, Slavs, maritime, method of their migration southwards into the Balkan peninsula migration, in the seventh century, their lack of cohesion, their attacks on Salonika and Constantinople with the Avars, their original home, their settlement south of the Danube, the Balkan, their attitude towards the Church, under Turkish rule, the Eastern (Russians), the Southern, general distribution of, the Western, Slivnitsa, battle of (1885), Slovenes, the, Smederevo (Semendria), Smyrna, Sofia, captured by the Bulgars from the Greeks, captured by the Turks, Soudha Bay, Southern Slav nationalities, the, Spain, Jews expelled from, Spalajkovi['c], Dr., Spetza, Sporades, the, Srem: _see_ Syrmia. Stambul, Sultanate of, Stambulov, Stephen Dragutin, Stephen Du[)s]an, King of Serbia(1331-45), Tsar of Serbs, Bulgars, and Greeks (1345-55), Stephen (Lazarevi['c]), Serbian Prince, Stephen Nemanja, _veliki [)z]upan_, Stephen Nemanji['c], King of Serbia (1196-1223), the First-Crowned, Stephen Radoslav, King of Serbia (1223-33), Stephen Uro[)s] I, King of Serbia (1242-76), Stephen Uro[)s] II (Milutin), King of Serbia (1282-1321), Stephen Uro[)s] III (De['c]anski), King of Serbia (1321-31), Stephen Vladislav, King of Serbia (1233-42), Stephen the Great, Prince of Moldavia, Struma, the, Suleiman I, Sultan (the Magnificent), Suli, clansmen of, [)S]umadija, Svetoslav, ruler of Bulgaria, Svishtov, Svyatoslav, Prince of Kiev, Syria, Syrian question, the, Syrmia, Tabriz, Tanzimat, the, Tarabo[)s], Mount, Tarsus, Tartar invasion, the, Tartars of the Golden Horde, Tenedos, Teutons, the, Thasos, Theodore Lascaris, the Emperor, Theodoric, Theodosius, the Emperor, Theophilus of Constantinople, Thessaly, Thrace, Thu-Kiu, people of, Tilsit, peace of (1807), Timok, the, Timur, Tirnovo, centre and capital of second Bulgarian empire, Trajan, the Emperor, in the Balkan peninsula, his conquest of Dacia, Transylvania, Trebizond, Trieste, Trikéri, destruction of, Trikoupis, Greek statesman, Tripoli, Tripolitza, Tunisia, Turcomans, the, Turkestan, Turkey: administrative systems, and the Armenian massacres (1894), and the Balkans, and Bulgaria, and the Bulgarian atrocities, and Greece, and the islands of southeastern Europe, and Rumania, and Russia, and Serbia, and the struggle for Greek independence, and the suzerainty of Krete, Christians in, position of, codification of the civil law, commercial treaties, Committee of Union and Progress, conquests in Europe, in Asia, of the Balkan peninsula, decline and losses of territory in Europe and Asia, 'Dere Beys', Dragoman, office of, 184, 185, expansion: of the Osmanli kingdom, of the Byzantine Empire, extent of the empire in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, territorial expansion in Asia, feudal aristocracy of, financial embarrassments and public debt, frontier beyond the Danube, German influence in, Grand Vizierate, military organization, soldiery recruited from Christian races, 'tribute-children' system of recruiting, name of, pan-Islamic propaganda under Abdul Hamul, pan-Ottomanism, Phanariot régime, praetorians, railway construction, effect of, reforms in, representative institutions inaugurated, revival and relapse in the nineteenth century, revolution of 1910, war in the Balkans (1912), war with Great Britain, France, and Russia (1914-15), wars with Greece (1821), (1897), (1912), war with Italy (1911-12), wars with Russia (1769-74), (1787), (1807), (1828), (1877-8), (1914-15), wars with Serbia (1875-7), Young Turks, the, Turkish conquests in Europe, fleet, janissaries, Turks (Osmanlis), entry into Europe, general distribution of, nomadic tribes of, origin of, vitality and inherent qualities of the, Tzakonia, Uighurs, Turkish tribe, Unkiar Skelessi, Treaty of (1833), Uro[)s], King of Serbia: _see_ Stephen Uro[)s]. Uro[)s], Serbian Tsar (1355-71), �skub: _see_ Skoplje, Valens, the Emperor, Valtetzi, battle of, Van, Vardar, the, Varna, battle of (1444), captured by the Bulgars, Venezelos, E., Kretan and Greek statesman, his part in the Kretan revolution, becomes premier of Greece, work as a constructive statesman, the formation of the Balkan League, his proposals to Bulgaria for settlement of claims, his handling of the problem of Epirus, results of his statesmanship, Venice and the Venetian Republic, Victoria, Queen of England, Vienna, besieged by the Turks (1526), (1683), Congress of (1814), in relation to the Serbo-Croats: _see_ Budapest. Visigoths, the, Vlad the Impaler, Prince of Wallachia, Vlakhs, the, Volga, Bulgars of the, Volo, Gulf of, Vranja, Vrioni, Omer, Wallachia, advent of the Turks in, subjugation of, by the Turks, Wied, Prince of, William II, German Emperor, Yannina, Yantra, the, Yemen, Yenishehr, Yuruk tribe, Yuzgad, Zabergan, Zaimis, high commissioner of Krete, Zante, Zeta, the, river and district,