Then, at last, Serbia reached the sea. Unexpectedly, it is true, and not
at the point that she had long had in mind. Sad and bereft, was she
deserted by God as well as by man? As she sat there alone she heard a
confused murmur of voices, and she vaguely distinguished the cries of
children for their fathers, and wives for their husbands--and tales
echoed in her ears that were sadder, more horrible, than the most
horrible tales of the Turkish night. Poor Serbia! Her garments were torn
and stained with snow and mud, her face was bruised. Gone, gone her
aspect of happy prosperity. Yet in spite of all she had suffered there
was a light in her eyes--the light of her soul shining through the
sadness. She was not bowed down, though her attitude spoke of sorrow.
She was disturbed not for herself, but for her people. How they had
suffered! She did not try to shut her ears to the murmurs that still
came to her--children crying faintly and oh, so pitifully! and strong
men, yes, she heard the moaning of strong men. Then as she looked in the
direction of the sound, she saw a mother bowed in grief beside a long
snowy road, yet uttering no word as old men, strangers to her, found a
place for the little frozen body under the hard ground. She saw a long,
long line winding up the narrow, shelving road, where a false step at
any moment might send a man to death into the river five hundred feet
below. "The best fighters in the world!" It had made her proud to hear
this, but now how could they fight the savage winter? Worst place of
all, Kossovo, where not so long before she had celebrated Mass
triumphantly, Kossovo, again to be as when it was first named "The Field
of Black Birds," "The Field of Vultures." Now the stricken lay never to
rise again and for a moment Serbia could look no longer.
There were other things along the road--rifles, and cartridge belts,
burdens too heavy to carry far, and she wished that all such things
might lie on the ground forever, never to be used by young or old.
Alas, the little boys! the little boys who had never been away from
their mothers--the hope of Serbia--dying by thousands along that dreary
road; dying, dying on the plain of Kossovo. War, for them, a kind of
holiday! They were soldiers now; they would be real men when they
reached the sea! The little boys, the hope of the future! Of the thirty
thousand who trod that dreary road, only a half lived to reach the sea.
Not one-half of these reached the island where they were to have their
training as soldiers.
The soul of Serbia was in agony as a ghostlike army, pale, pinched, and
starved, crept over the snowy mountains, over the soggy roads--men,
women, and poor dumb animals sinking in to their death. Of those who
came to the edge of the sea some could hold out no longer, but died when
comfort was near.
Despite the circumstances under which he came to the throne, no one
believed that King Peter had planned or had anything to do with the
murder of Alexander and Draga; he, the direct descendant of the honest
Karageorges. Yet it could not be denied that he had profited by this
murder and, consequently, even when the horror of the whole thing had
faded from the minds of other Europeans, he had a certain amount of
prejudice to overcome. Yet in the first ten years of his reign, Serbia
had prospered. Her nearly one thousand miles of railways had brought her
in closer connection with the world. Though the debt incurred for these
railways and other improvements were large she had no trouble in
borrowing money. Her loans were readily taken by outside capitalists.
In the hundred years since she had been freed from Turkish rule, Serbia
had made constant advance in culture, in all that may be called economic
life. Her peasant farmers not only produced all that the Serbians
themselves needed--wheat, barley, maize, fruits of various kinds,
cattle, and pigs--but there was a demand for some of their staples in
other countries, and more and more they required a larger market; more
and more they chafed under the restrictions made by Austria. The whole
country realized, as outsiders had realized, that Austria was slowly
squeezing her; that Austria would be ready to devour her when the right
time came. The King had a difficult task in keeping his people
contented.
Politically, however, Serbia in the nineteenth century had made great
advances, and King Peter's domain was a well-organized limited monarchy.
After many vicissitudes Serbia at last has an excellent Constitution,
well meeting all the needs of the Nation. In the King and the
Skupchtina is vested all the legislative power. The Skupchtina, an
assembly elected by proportional representation, has complete control of
the national finances. Serbia has good Courts of Justice and a humane
prison system, and her standing army not only has to be taken into
account by the Great Powers, but has spoken loudly for itself in the
present war. Serbia has also good local government; the scheme for which
includes two public bodies, a municipal council and a communal
tribunal.
[Illustration: KING PETER ABOUT TO LEAVE SERBIA--NOVEMBER, 1915]
Serbia, after many years of backwardness, has been paying great
attention to education. The Minister of Education is a man of great
prestige and influence. Teachers are well trained and well paid. It is
not strange, perhaps, that a people with the Serbians' deep poetic
sensibility should in the past have given little attention to technical
training, but a change has of late been coming, a change of attitude
that after the war will undoubtedly produce important results. From the
earliest days the Serb has had a marked aptitude for handicraft. In
medieval documents, certain Serbian blacksmiths are named as expert
makers of penknives, and to-day Serbian metal work has high rank. Unlike
the Greek, the Serb has little aptitude for trade, and unlike the
Bulgar, he is rather sluggish in working his farm, slow to use improved
methods or new implements. Yet, in spite of the many upheavals at home,
he has been constantly progressing, and since he threw off Turkish rule
has each year become sturdier and more self-reliant. Indeed, he can be
called to-day efficient in both the economic and the military sense.
In the Middle Ages Serbia was one of the largest silver-producing
countries in Europe. Her mountains have as yet given up but little of
their treasure. The Romans knew the mines and brought out of them much
gold, silver, iron, and lead and, during the later Middle Ages, the
merchants of Ragusa obtained no small portion of their wealth from the
same source, but about the middle of the fifteenth century the Turks put
an end to all enterprises of this kind. In the first half of the last
century, mining was revived. Belgian capital had a large part in this,
especially in producing copper and iron.
The copper mines south of Passarowitz were said to be among the richest,
if not the richest, in the world. But as yet Serbia herself hardly
appreciated the value of her own resources. Her less than one thousand
miles of railways had loaded her with a heavy debt. Austria had improved
the Danube--largely, however, for Austria's advantage. But Serbia began
to look about. She was determined to gain, if possible, the economic
independence she longed for. With a resourceful King, with a competent
Ministry headed by the eminent Pachich, this ought not to be difficult,
she thought, ought to be much less difficult than her long, hard
struggle for political independence.
The spirit of the Serb has been shown in the remarkable development of
cooperation in industry, especially in the twentieth century. "Only
Union is Serbia's Salvation"--this was St. Sava's famous saying in the
distant twelfth century. Politically, his words had proved true for
Serbia, and economically they had begun to show their value, especially
in King Peter's reign.
One reason for the success of nineteenth century cooperation in Serbia
may be found in the Zadruga of ancient times. This was a large family
association including male kinship to the second and the third degree.
It often numbered more than a hundred individuals; each member had a
fixed duty and the revenues were divided among all the members. The
Zadruga was ruled by an elder or Stareschina. Sometimes the Stareschina
was a woman. The Stareschina kept the money-box and attended to the
payment of taxes. The women of the Zadruga obeyed the Stareschina's
wife. This kind of community life was so familiar to the Serbs that it
was no unusual thing when some one asked, "Whose is that drove of
sheep?" to hear the reply "Ours," never "Mine."
In Literature, in Science, in Art, the Serb had begun to take his
rightful place in Europe, encouraged by the example of a large-minded,
cultured monarch.
Serbia had long realized that within her boundaries lived hardly half of
the Serb race in Europe. The feeling of brotherhood with all his kin
which is so powerful a characteristic of the individual Serb is even
more marked in the Serbian Nation. A generation ago Serbia was willing
to go to war with Turkey to help her downtrodden kindred in Bosnia and
Herzegovina. "The saving of Old Serbia and the Union of the Serb peoples
is the star by which the Serb steers," said a traveler in the early part
of King Peter's reign, and certainly to the liberty-loving Serb this
was a beautiful vision--that he was sometime to liberate from Turkish
and from Austrian control all his oppressed brothers, the four and a
half millions whom the twentieth century found so restive under Turkish,
Teutonic, or Magyar control.
For Serbia, then, her entrance into The Balkan League in 1912 was a
natural sequence of many of her previous aspirations and efforts. In
presence of a common danger--the Teuton working through the Turk--the
Balkan States put aside their own particular rivalries and formed a
Union. This was effective, and the Turks were defeated. But when Turkey
was defeated, Bulgaria and Serbia were again at sword's points. It was
not a question of jealousies between small kingdoms, but rather a larger
issue--Pan-Slavism as against Pan-Teutonism. Serbs, wherever found, were
outspoken, and Austria saw that she might have to give up not only her
hope of adding Serbia to her dominions but besides this lose her
dominion over the Serbs within the dual monarchy. From that time she
hardly tried to hide her intention of punishing Serbia for her ambition.
Serbia, meanwhile, was growing bolder, stronger. Though her successes in
recent wars had not given her her coveted seaport, she had found ways of
getting a considerable proportion of her products to market without
sending them through Austria. Her imports from Austria fell off largely.
Austria and Germany saw that they would have difficulty in making Serbia
a docile ward, especially as M. Pachich in 1912 had made it plain to the
other Powers that it would be to their advantage to give Serbia a chance
to expand.
It was eleven years almost to a day from the time he came to the throne,
when Peter's security was shattered by an explosion. The Archduke
Ferdinand, heir to the Austrian throne, and his wife, while making a
tour through Bosnia, were killed at Sarajevo by a Serb, not one of the
kingdom of Serbia but a Serb of Greater Serbia. Austria, that had been
for so long watching Serbia as a cat watches a mouse, quickly pounced on
the little kingdom. She made demands such as no civilized country could
comply with, and at last gave an ultimatum on the twenty-seventh of July
which had far-reaching consequences. It was a stone thrown into a quiet
pool and the ripples and eddies reached unthought-of shores, as the
whole world now knows.
There are many strange circumstances connected with this murder. Those
who have followed out the various clues have seen evidence that the Serb
government had no knowledge of the proposed murder, but there is much
that tends to show that the assassination was not a great surprise to
Austria--that Ferdinand, even at home, was in fear of his life. He
always slept in a room without furniture and not long before the
assassination he had taken out a life insurance, the largest life
insurance known. In case of his death, it was necessary to make
provision for his consort who could hope nothing from the house of which
he had long been the heir. When Ferdinand's heir had a son born to him,
the Austrians turned against Ferdinand and wished him out of the way.
His removal, indeed, was a greater object to Austria-Hungary than to
Serbia, for it was generally known that he was liberal in his ideas
regarding the Serbs in the dual monarchy, and had even formed a plan for
giving them Home Rule.
From the beginning Austria-Hungary tried to impress on the world that
the shooting of Archduke Ferdinand was part of a revolt of the southern
Slav provinces of Austria instigated by the Serbian government. On the
twenty-third of July, Austria sent an ultimatum to Serbia demanding that
she use every means in her power to punish the assassins and stop all
further anti-Austrian propaganda. The next day, Russia asked for delay,
and on July twenty-fifth, ten minutes before the time of the ultimatum
expired, Serbia made due apologies and agreed to all the conditions
imposed by Austria except the one that Austria should have official
representatives in the work of investigation. Two days later, the
Austrian foreign office issued a statement with these words: "Serbia's
note is filled with the spirit of dishonesty." Austria was determined on
war. She had not accepted Serbia's apologies.
Then the Great Slav came to the rescue of the smaller. Russia
immediately notified Austria that she would not allow Serbian territory
to be invaded. Now it was Germany's turn. She let it be known
semi-officially that she stood ready to back Austria. No one, she said,
must interfere between Austria-Hungary and Serbia. On this
twenty-seventh of July Sir Edward Gray, Great Britain's Foreign
Secretary, proposed a London conference of the Ambassadors of all the
Great Powers. France and Italy at once accepted but Austria and Germany
declined this invitation. On the twenty-eighth of July came the fateful
call to war. "Austria-Hungary considers itself in a state of war with
Serbia." The reason given for this was that Serbia had not replied
satisfactorily to Austria's note of the twenty-third of July. Events
followed in quick succession. Russia's mobilization was followed by a
request from Germany that she stop this movement of the troops and make
a reply within twenty-four hours. Whereupon England notified Germany
that she could not stand aloof from a general conflict; that the balance
of power could not be destroyed. Russia made no reply to Germany's
ultimatum but instead sent out a manifesto: "Russia is determined not to
allow Serbia to be crushed and will fulfil its duty in regard to that
small kingdom." Next, the German Ambassador at the French foreign office
expressed fear of friction between the Triple Alliance and the Triple
Entente unless the impending conflict between Austria and Serbia should
be strictly localized.
On August first, the German Ambassador handed a declaration of war to
the Russian Foreign Minister. This meant war with France, and hardly had
the French Government issued general mobilization orders when the
invasion of France began. A day later, Germany demanded of Belgium free
passage for her troops, and the French Government proclaimed martial law
in France and Algiers. All Continental Europe was now aflame. The German
Ambassador had made a strong bid for British neutrality, and Great
Britain's reply was noble. After speaking of its friendship with France
it concluded with the words: "Whether that friendship involves
obligations, let every man look into his own heart and construe that
obligation for himself."
On the fourth of August, after Italy had proclaimed her neutrality,
England's ultimatum was sent to Germany. When no reply came, the
British foreign office announced that a state of war existed between the
two countries and Germany gave the British Ambassador his passport. A
day later, President Wilson offered the good offices of the United
States to bring about a settlement between the warring powers. On the
seventh of August, a day after Austria-Hungary had declared war on
Russia, Germany announced that jealousy of Germany was the real cause of
the war. On the ninth of August, Serbia, in order to get rid of the
German Ambassador, declared war on Germany and, finally, war was
declared between France and Austria, and Austria and Great Britain.
Portugal reported that she was on the side of Great Britain.
Soon Austrian troops were invading Serbia, three to one. On the
twenty-seventh of July, the Serbian army had mobilized. It had barely
recuperated from the recent war with Bulgaria and, while men were in
trim for fighting, the army was ill equipped and to an extent
unprepared for a new war. This in itself shows the folly of the
accusation that the Serbian Government had encouraged the murder of the
Archduke in order to precipitate a war with Austria. An additional bit
of evidence in Serbia's favor, if more were needed, was the fact that
when the Archduke was murdered, many Serbian officials and other men of
importance were at German or Austrian watering-places and had difficulty
in getting back to their homes and their duties.
Little of the war material destroyed in the recent conflict with
Bulgaria had been replaced and even when the Serbs took the field they
had not sufficient ammunition, for much of their ammunition was French
and, owing to conditions in France, the latter country could no longer
supply Serbia with what she needed. Yet by the middle of August the
armies of the Crown Prince in a five days' engagement, the Battle of
Jadar, sent the Austrians across the river, and out of Serbia. In dead
and wounded the invaders had lost about twice as many as the Serbs, as
well as a large amount of ordnance and stores. They returned in
September, but after inflicting much damage on the country were again
defeated and again driven out of Serbia about the middle of December.
Serbia, invaded by an army three times as large as her own, fought
valiantly and drove the Austrians outside her kingdom, not, however,
until much damage had been done. Not only had she many wounded but the
invader destroyed everything, even the property of non-combatants who
had remained passive on their farms. So viciously had the Austrians
treated the non-combatants that all who could fled the country toward
Macedonia. Crops were seized; cattle were killed or taken away; farms
and implements destroyed, and in fact the whole country was laid waste.
[Illustration: SERBIAN VILLAGERS ON THEIR WAY TO EXILE]
Perhaps in no better way can the barbarous methods of the Austrian
invader be understood than from a quotation from an appeal made by the
Serbian Archbishop.
"The barbarous methods of warfare of the German Allies, the
object of which is to annihilate other nations and their
culture, have inflicted on us, as well as on the Belgians,
bloody and incurable wounds. Whole crowds of our best and
noblest Serbs, who as non-combatants peacefully received the
Austrian army, have been killed with a cruelty of which even
savages would be ashamed. Men and women, old men and
innocent children have been murdered by terrible tortures,
by arms, and by fire. Many have been locked up in school
buildings and other houses and burnt alive. All the churches
to which the Austrians got access have been desecrated,
robbed, and destroyed. The schools and the best houses have
fared in the same way. Belgrade, the beautiful capital of
Serbia, its churches, its educational and humanitarian
institutions, have been destroyed. The university, the
national library, the museum, and scientific collections,
have been ruined. For those who have escaped, and for the
orphans of the fallen, speedy help is most necessary."
Said Madame Grouitch an eye witness of these depredations, "Imagine the
farming districts of our Middle States charred and trampled, and
everything killed. This would give you a faint idea of Serbia after the
Austrians first entered it." When they approached Belgrade at the very
beginning of the war, within six hours they were shelling the city and
killing women and children. In other cities, as at Shabats, for example,
they did many things from what seemed a mere spirit of wantonness,
emptying the contents of shops into the streets and carrying away
property that could hardly have been of use to them. But while they
devastated the country they had entered and terrified the
non-combatants, they had few engagements with the Serbian soldiers
worthy the name of battle.
It was during this second invasion that King Peter especially endeared
himself to his men. In one instance where they were growing
disheartened, he entered the trenches and discharging his rifle as a
signal, led them to victory. The Serbs from the beginning of the war
felt confidence in their leaders--the Crown Prince, Putnik, Misich,
Pasich, the king.
The Serbian soldiers were gathering strength. The world knew before this
that they were brave fighters; since that autumn of 1914 they have known
that they are unsurpassed. Facing an enemy that outnumbered them three
to one, they did not flinch, and by the 20th of December the Austrians
were driven out of Serbia--not to return for nearly a year. During that
year, however, the Austrians from the other side of the Danube were
constantly bombarding Belgrade, while the inhabitants for the most part
went about their business as usual. The army, which had early been
ordered out of the city in a vain effort to save Belgrade from
bombardment, was now putting itself in good condition. The return of the
invaders was certain, the time less sure. All that Serbia could do was
to spare no effort to put herself in the best condition to meet the
inevitable attacks of the foe. The hospitals were full of wounded and
Serbian women and nurses from outside were doing their best for the
Serbian soldiers and for the many sick Austrian soldiers, when the
dreadful typhus broke out.
But for famine and disease during their fatal six months Serbia might
still be on her feet. Her tragic condition interested the whole world,
unwilling to see the women relatives of a million fighters suffering,
aye, even dying. The first invasion resulted in taking away from their
home the majority of the peasants who had remained behind to provide
food. The invaders did not even respect the hospitals--they cut off the
water supplies so that the nurses could not even provide for the sick.
During those months of disease the black flag hung over hundreds of
houses in every Serbian town. The whole country was demoralized, for
many officials had lost their lives. The fever was so virulent that it
may be said that no country has ever suffered so severely. The typhus
that broke out in the early part of 1915 came from the bad sanitary
condition of the Austrian prison camps, and Serbia, weakened by war, was
in no condition to resist. Several thousands a day died in the early
months of that year. In six of the most fertile districts, more than
half of the children died--of hunger, cold, and exposure as well as of
disease--and it was not until the Red Cross physicians and others from
various countries took hold, that the disease abated.
Meanwhile, men of Serbia were fighting bravely and hopefully until an
advancing wave of Teutons swept over the country and the populace fled.
It had been wiser, perhaps, if non-combatants had stayed in their homes,
but so fearful were the atrocities reported, the atrocities committed by
the German armies in Belgium and elsewhere, that retreat seemed wisest.
Many Serbian soldiers, however, wished to stay and face the invader
until they could fight no longer. But they would have had to fight with
three against their one. The hordes rushing on were beyond
belief--Germans, Austrians, and Bulgarians. The humbler people might
with less danger have stayed behind, but the Government, naturally,
could not remain in its capital and there were many others upon whom a
price was set. When once the retreat began it rolled up by tens of
thousands, and this human flood could not be stopped. It was a
spectacular flight. All the private vehicles that the Government could
get together; all the motor trucks which could be collected; all in one
great procession, peasants carrying their household goods in bundles
over their shoulders--chiefly old men and women, for the young men were
in the army; young women carrying babies in their arms with little
children clinging to their skirts were following close behind. Those in
motor vehicles did not have a painless journey. Often their cars broke
down; they were thrown into the mud from which they were with
difficulty rescued. Sometimes a car and its occupants fell from the
precipice into the foaming river below. They went over mountains as high
as our Alleghanies and as wild as our Rockies. Sometimes they passed
feudal castles on steep rocks; sometimes they went through dangerous
passes and slept in the open, fearing attacks from the murderous
Albanians, who were certainly to be dreaded. For not a few of the poor
pilgrims met death at the hands of these cut-throats. For days and days,
they moved on in the drenching rain, cold and starving! And it was not
only the animals that succumbed to the horror of the march; old men and
women, children, and soldiers who once had been strong at last had to
give up and lie down in death. Constantly they were in dread of the
approaching enemy, whose guns after a while they could hear rumbling in
the distance. But they kept moving on toward the sea, where they
expected ships to take them to a safer country.
The wraith of an army reached the sea and the wraith of an army of
non-combatants,--all of this suffering merely to find a haven from the
advancing Teutonic armies! Perhaps those men were right who had refused
to retreat, who had begged for death by a comrade's gun rather than have
the dishonor of turning backs to the enemy. Though they saw that the
conquest of Serbia was inevitable, it was hard to admit that they were
beaten. At last, after all this hardship, when the poor Serbians reached
the Adriatic, they found no food! Transports loaded with food had been
sunk in the harbors! Weary, starving, they must wait a little longer.
Was there ever before such a flight? The retreat of one civilized Nation
before another; the flight of a whole people, Government, soldiers,
non-combatants, and all because of the rumors of the terrors the pursuer
would inflict if he caught his prey! At the sea they breathed more
freely--they could look across the water and there, far, far beyond, lay
the lands where for centuries the weaker had not been sorely oppressed.
[Illustration: SERBIAN SOLDIERS ON THE BANKS OF THE DRINA]
Then the wraith of an army began to hope; and on the island the soldiers
were recuperating, and the little boys--a quarter of those who had
poured into the great procession from all the roads, from every little
village, from every town--the dead, would not swell the triumph of the
victors. Those by the sea rested and grew stronger; and after a while
the world began to hear that Serbia, deprived of her country, a Nation
living in exile, was getting ready to claim her own. She was now one of
the Allies. Her army could give an account of itself. "Poor Serbia!"
they had said. "Plucky Serbia!" they were now saying, and it was even
possible to imagine the world crying, "Lucky Serbia!" The soldiers
recuperating at Corfu; the women working at Corsica making the
wonderful embroideries that had given Serbia fame the world over; the
downtrodden under the feet of the Conqueror, living in shattered
dwellings in Serbian town and village, and praying, praying for the
restoration of their homes, hiding their tears while they worked or
prayed or nursed the sick--all, all working for Serbia.
Then those people who recognize heroism, those people who admire
patience and silent bravery, those people who long had cried, "Plucky
Serbia!" who had long been working for Serbia, now worked the harder,
and other workers joined them, until there were few sections of the
globe where there was not a group working for Serbia. The remnant of the
army, too, worked harder than ever, training, gathering strength, adding
to its numbers,--and at last it was ready.
Then Serbia had a vision of the men who had made her great--Vladimir,
who first showed that union is strength; Michael, her earliest King, and
Stephen Nemanya, who gave her a real kingdom, and Stephen Dushan, whose
dreams of a Serb Empire had given her glory; then Lazar Grebelyanovitch,
her brave and generous defender at Kossovo. Again, after her long sleep,
Karageorges, heroic and just, grandsire of King Peter; and last, Milos
Obrenovitch, whose cleverness had laid the foundation for much of her
present good.
Had she changed too quickly from the old patriarchal system before she
could rightly replace it? All this time, she now realized too well, she
had been only half-educated. It was easy enough for the great Nations to
criticize her, forgetful of the long past years when they were in her
condition, yet none of them could deny her her heroic past.
Then Serbia looked toward the sea. She no longer felt the pain of her
grief and her bruises; she was no longer alone. Friendly hands reached
out to her on every side, and beyond the sea lay noble England, and
strong Canada, and heroic France--Allies fighting for her, for her who
might never be able to reward them; and, nearer to her, she could see
fair Italy, magnificent Russia, and brave Montenegro and Roumania. All,
all had been fighting for her, for in fighting for liberty, they fought
for the oppressed of the whole world. They had been fighting her
battles--the battles of the days of her strength. And there, farther
off, was friendly America. For the moment she saw her ideal State--the
union of Serb countries into one independent National State--a Serbian
or a Croato-Serb monarchy.
Then, a shout, a clamor of voices, "Monastir! Monastir! Serbia! Serbia!"
Not a year since that awful retreat, and now the long exile was nearing
its end. King Peter, and the Crown Prince, the Government, the whole
Nation were hurrying home!
"There is no death without the appointed day," chants the old pesma.
Serbia will live!