[Special Cable to THE NEW YORK TIMES.]
LONDON, Jan. 11.--Z.D. Ferriman, special correspondent of The Daily
Chronicle with the Servian Army and the first English journalist to
enter Belgrade since the Austrian occupation, sends a long dispatch
describing the Servians' re-entry into their capital, in the course of
which he says:
"On the first view Belgrade does not seem to have suffered to any great
extent from the bombardment. Walking up the broad thoroughfare of the
Rasia, you arrive nearly at the top before you see a house with the
upper story blown away and with a fragment of what appears to have been
the roof--an imminent peril to passers-by.
"But appearances are specious. Many buildings whose facades are intact
are skeletons. Projectiles with high trajectory have fallen through the
roof and wrought destruction within. This is the case with a wing of the
Royal Palace. The windows are shattered, but the masonry has not
suffered. Within, however, all is devastated. Among the public buildings
the museum is a shapeless heap of débris, and the university is so much
knocked about that the plainest and cheapest remedy will be an entirely
new edifice.
"The higher part of the city has suffered most, with the exception,
perhaps, of the district around the station, which is completely
battered down. Rents in the pavement show that shells charged with very
high explosives were employed. One huge gulf I noticed at least twelve
feet deep by fifteen long and eight wide.
"There are many instances of the vagaries of these missiles of
destruction. I visited a house in which M. Nikovitz, who accompanied me
in my peregrinations, had occupied an apartment. There was nothing the
matter with the front, but a neat hole in the side marked the passage of
a projectile which had traversed the building and exploded in the
adjoining house, now a mound of brick-bats and matchwood. One half of a
large establishment in Prince Michael Street was completely wrecked, but
the other half was undamaged, and rolls of textile fabrics were in order
on their shelves or piled on counters. The best shops are in this
street, and much havoc has been wrought.
"I picked up spherical shrapnel bullets on several premises. Shrapnel
has no battering force. Its object is to kill or disable men. It can do
no harm to walls. Its employment in this instance was a wanton act
intended to inspire terror and doubtless augmented the loss of life
among the citizens.
"The principal hotel, the Moskwa, situated at the highest part of the
town, has been devastated partially within, but the framework of the
building is intact. On the other side of the street a row of houses far
less conspicuous has been demolished. In one street we met a little girl
of 12 coming out of a house opposite to one which was a heap of ruins.
We asked her if she had seen it destroyed. She said she had and was very
frightened. Shortly afterward a shell fell in their own garden; then
they ran away and took refuge with friends at the other end of the town.
An old woman had a stall containing tins of shoe polish and other
trifles. A jumble of charred wood and twisted iron behind had been her
shop. The caretaker at the house occupied by M. Nikovitz, a cheerful old
dame, told us how she had hid herself at the other end of the long
garden, but it was terrible.
"We asked some urchins, who would be at school in normal times, but
whose occupation and delight are now to hold officers' horses, if they
were not frightened. 'At first,' they replied, 'but not afterward. They
make a great noise, but they never catch us, and we do not mind
them--the shells.' A boy of 12, who was carrying on his father's
hair-dressing business single-handed during the latter's absence on
service, expressed a similar opinion.
"I am told that about 3,000 people remained, out of the normal
population of 100,000, during the bombardment. I cannot ascertain the
number of killed and injured, but it certainly runs into the hundreds.
Those of the inhabitants who left the city but remained in the
neighborhood returned after the bombardment and were here during the
eleven days of the Austrian occupation.
"The practice of taking hostages, which it has been reserved for this
twentieth century civilized war to revive, was resorted to at Belgrade.
I am assured on unimpeachable authority, supported by accounts of
several eyewitnesses, that not fewer than 1,000 persons were carried off
to Austria. Among them were boys of 15 and 16. Nor were foreign
residents immune. M. Bissers, the Belgian Consul, who is also a Director
of the electric tram and light company, was of the number. He was
handcuffed like a common criminal. Neither the fate nor whereabouts of
these civilian prisoners of war is known.
"The plate-glass fronts of many shops in the principal thoroughfares are
smashed, and the interiors present a picture of desolation, overturned
cash registers and objects that have not been stolen lying broken and
scattered on the floor, but the majority of the establishments that have
been ransacked do not show outward signs of it. The system seems to have
been to obtain ingress from the back.
"In the Rasia there is a stately mansion. Its owner, M. Kersmanovitz,
died a short time ago, leaving large sums for charitable purposes. The
house was occupied by his widow when the war broke out. Chalked on the
door were names distinguished in the Austro-Hungarian peerage--Baron
Zichy, Graf Festetics, and Graf Vanderstraten, all Lieutenants on the
staff, who had been its denizens during occupation. Though their tenure
was brief they had made the most of their time. The place was gutted,
carpets torn up, tapestry torn down, and pictures destroyed. It was also
indescribably filthy. This may have been the work of the soldiery after
the departure of the young noblemen.
"The poor suffered equally with the rich. A humble restaurant used by
the working classes, one of two or three still open, was despoiled of
its linen and cutlery. Small shops had been sacked as well as the larger
establishments. It was all fish that came to the Austrian net. I have
not yet met any one whose dwelling escaped. The Russian Legation is
wrecked.
"The Royal Palace was thrown open to the people. 'It is yours,' said the
Austrian liberators in the generosity of their hearts; but they had gone
over it with care first."
[Illustration: decoration]