METROVITZA AND THE ALBANIANS
‘Listen, my brothers! You must be ready for the Holy War. When you
hear for the second time the voice of public crier Mecho, gather great
and small, of all ages between seven and seventy, and range yourselves
under the banners. Those who have blood debts have nothing to fear. God
and the country pardon them. The Seven Kings[4] are banded together,
but we do not fear them, nor would they frighten us if they were
seventy, or as many more.’
The clans agreed upon a _bessa_, or truce, blood feuds were declared
off for the time, and the Albanians of Jakova, Ipek, and other
districts neighbouring Metrovitza banded together, great and small, of
all ages, to combat the reforms imposed upon the Sultan by the Powers.
The feature of the reforms which gave them most offence was the mixed
gendarmerie. The British Consul at Uskub had suggested that it would be
sheer slaughter to create Christian police among the Albanians. But the
arrogant Russian, who at that time played first fiddle in the _opéra
comique_, opposed this view, probably for no other reason than that it
was English; and the Turks, who make game of mad methods, agreed to the
Austro-Russian demands with alacrity, and sent six Servian gendarmes to
Vutchitrin.
The public crier made his second call. Albanians to the number of
several thousand foregathered and visited Vutchitrin. But arriving
there they found the Turkish kaimakam had sent the sorry Serbs away to
a secret place of safety.
This was not a dire disappointment for the Albanians; they projected
bigger sport for the following day and kept the peace during the
night. Early next morning they set forth for Metrovitza, a short
march, to fulfil a promise, made a year before, to destroy the newly
established Russian Consulate. But, over-confident and swaggering with
pride, they boasted openly of what they would do, and when they came
to the Consular town they found the roads blocked with infantry and
covered by cannon. The Albanians halted, and the chiefs went forward
to parley with the Turkish commander: they were faithful followers of
the Padisha, doing only what he would desire. But the Turk could not be
moved, and threatened to fire if the Albanians advanced.
The Albanians did not believe that the Sultan’s soldiers would fire on
the faithful, and when the whole force had gathered they marched boldly
upon the town by two roads at the same time. They were met by a volley
from the troops, and, much cut up, retired. A body of them occupied
an old mill across a little stream which bordered the barracks, and
fired upon the garrison from there until shelled out. Then the whole
number, after collecting their dead--with the tacit permission of the
Turks--withdrew to their own towns. But the Russian Consul was not to
escape.
The garrison of Metrovitza, which was largely Albanian, sympathised
thoroughly with the Albanian effort that had failed, and, indeed, every
Mohamedan did. The Government had got more than it bargained for. The
garrison was sore and sullen, and when the soldiers gathered at the
cafés in the evening, it was to deplore the day’s work and to speculate
upon the Padisha’s will.
At one café a fanatic dervish, after working his hearers to frenzied
pitch, exclaimed, ‘And is there not a single Mohamedan who will rid us
of this giaour?’
‘I will,’ said a piping little voice.
‘You! Oh, no, you will not!’ said the dervish scornfully.
‘I will,’ repeated the other.
He was a soldier who had been in the fight, a slim, sickly fellow with
a sad visage. I saw him on trial at Uskub.
The next morning M. Stcherbina, attired in Russian uniform, followed
by a Cossack, two heavily armed kavasses, and a troop of soldiers,
officers, and officials--the Turks doing honour and service against
their convictions--went out to inspect the line of battle, the plan
of which, it was alleged, the Russian had directed. As the Consul in
great state passed, the sentinels presented arms--which the Russians
exact of the Turks. One Mohamedan, required thus to degrade himself,
lowered his gun quickly as the Consul passed before him at a distance
of three paces, and without waiting to aim, fired a fatal ball into the
‘infidel’s’ body. Then, flinging away his gun, the soldier started at a
mad pace down the slope, over the rocks toward the mountains of Albania.
The Consul’s retinue, surprised for a moment, were soon after the
fugitive, firing fast; but he travelled a hundred yards before they
wounded him. The Cossack claimed, and no doubt fired, the telling shot.
At his first trial the murderer was condemned to prison for a term
of fifteen years. Strange to say, Abdul Hamid is averse from capital
punishment. But the Russians were not satisfied with this sentence
and demanded a new trial; and at the second hearing, at Uskub (a mock
affair with the verdict pre-determined) the soldier was condemned to
death. Before he was executed the White Czar pardoned the murderer of
M. Stcherbina! But a few months later, not only the murderer of M.
Roskowsky, Russian Consul at Monastir, but also a soldier who stood by
and saw the deed done, and made no attempt to prevent it, were hanged
at Russian command.
The ways of the Turk and the ways of the Russian are wonderful and
similar.
The display of the Russian dead was truly Russian. The body of M.
Stcherbina was placed on a bier in a goods car, lined and completely
covered with mourning, on each side and each end an immense white
cross. This moving catafalque was dragged from Metrovitza to Salonica,
met along the route by Servian and Bulgarian clergy and such Consuls
as would participate in the demonstration, and opened for services at
the chief stations. At Salonica the body was laid in state in a new
Bulgarian church, from which there was a great parade to a Russian
man-of-war, Consuls all participating, Turkish soldiers and officials
doing honour.
The object of these proceedings seemed to be to impress Turks,
Christians, and Jews alike with the power of Russia. Alas! for the
power of Russia, the Japanese war soon followed, and its result
delighted Turks and Jews and many Christians.
* * * * *
From Constantinople came a commission of holy men with gifts from
the Sultan and arguments from the Koran to conciliate the injured
Albanians. But they would not be reconciled. Abdul Hamid had kept them
armed for generations for his own purposes, had chosen his bodyguard
from among them because of their faithfulness, and now no amount of
backsheesh, or multiloquence about their transgressing the will of God,
would bring them to terms. They were going to fight. So the Albanian
soldiers were brought out of the Albanian districts and replaced by
purely Turkish regiments. More Anatolians were brought over from Asia
Minor in vast numbers, and mobilised at Verisovitch.
Those who knew the Turkish Government doubted that actual
hostilities against the Albanians would take place. But Russia was
pressing--threatening a naval demonstration with the Black Sea
fleet--and the Sultan fought his faithful friends.
Two small encounters took place. Of course the Albanians, badly armed
and without organisation, were easily defeated. The chiefs were made
prisoners and taken to Constantinople, where they were decorated,
probably pensioned for life, and made altogether better off than they
had been hitherto.
It is supposed that the Sultan ‘fixed’ his Albanian bodyguard before he
sent an army against their brothers, for had not his own safety been
secured, it can be taken he would have preferred war with the ‘Seven
Kings.’
* * * * *
Metrovitza, being on the railway, was accessible without the permission
of Hilmi Pasha, and an Englishman, a Dane, and I went up to see the
battle ground. We were invited to visit the Russian Consulate, and
found a Russian kavass awaiting us with a bodyguard of soldiers.
It was not a far walk from the station to the Consulate, which we
recognised from a distance by the tremendous tricolour that floated
from the balcony, drooping to within six feet of the road beneath. The
Consulate was situated between the barracks and a camp of Turkish
soldiers, and on several sides, immediately about the house, were small
detachments of picked troops.
First to greet us as we entered the door was the Cossack, in bushy
busby, blue dress with large white spots, brown sleeves, leggings, and
many weapons. He was a moth-like creature, hair, beard, and skin the
same sickly pallor, and eyes of a dull blue. The kavasses--generally
swaggering--looked sheepish; they were Albanians--traitors, in their
countrymen’s eyes. But the Consul, M. Mashkov, late of Uskub, was full
of fire, actually pugnacious, and, so he told us, ready to die in his
country’s service.
A telegram arrived a few minutes after we did, containing a warning
that the Sublime Porte had received a letter from the Bulgarian
committajis, informing the Turkish Government of their intention to
assassinate another Russian consul. The object of this telegram--the
origin of which is obvious--I am at a loss to understand, but such
warnings to consuls come constantly from the Turkish Government.
‘They have killed M. Stcherbina,’ said M. Mashkov; ‘they may kill me;
but they cannot kill the Russian Consul!’
The Dane asked the Consul if he really thought he would be
assassinated, and M. Mashkov replied, ‘I expect to leave Turkey as M.
Stcherbina did. If the Albanians do not kill me, the Bulgarians will.’
But I am glad to record that our entertaining and generous host--whose
ideas and sympathies, I regret, do not agree with mine--was soon
transferred to Egypt, and got away from Turkey alive.
We tramped over the battlefield in the same manner that the dead
Russian had done, with Russian kavasses and Turkish soldiers for our
protection, and a Turkish officer who spoke French as a conductor. We
resembled a Russian commission, and the sentinels rose from the ground
and saluted. Every time we passed one the sins of my life all came back
to my mind.
* * * * *
Albania is the most romantic country in Europe, probably in all the
world. It is a lawless land where might makes right, and parts of it
are as forbidding to the foreigner as darkest Africa. In the country
around Ipek, Jakova, and Prisrend, and even Kalkandele, the homes of
men are strongholds built of stone, with no windows on the ground
floors, and those above mere loopholes. At the corners of a village or
estate are _kulers_, towers of defence, from which the enemy can be
seen far down the road.
The first law of the land is the law of the gun, as it was in the Wild
West. But the country is more thickly populated than was the American
border in the old days, and men have banded together in clans for
offensive and defensive purposes.
There is no education in Albania--the Turks have kept the country
illiterate--and promises have come to be bonds. It is because the
Albanians keep their word that Abdul Hamid has chosen them as his
bodyguard. But the Albanian has no regard for the man he has not sworn
to, and, though the petty thief is despised, it is considered brave
work to kill a man for his money.
Albanian customs are dangerous to break, and are handed down the
generations unwritten as sacredly as are feuds. Some strange customs
exist. To compliment an unmarried woman, for instance, is provocation
for death. A blood enemy is under amnesty while in the company of a
woman. A woman may shoot a fiancé who breaks his betrothal or call
upon the young man’s father to kill him. If a man commits murder, and,
flying for his life, enters the house of another, friend or foe, he
is safe. This is the case, even if he takes refuge in the house of a
brother of the man he has slain. He may not remain there for ever; but
for three days he can live on the best the house provides. When that
time is up, he is shown on his way. Twenty-four hours is given him to
make his escape; after that the _bessa_ is over and the blood feud
begins.
In their national dress the Albanians of the North are always
distinguishable. The men wear baggy trousers, usually white, tight
fitting to the ankle. Down each side of them and over the back is a
broad band of rich black silk cording. Very often a design in rich red
tapers down each leg to the knee. A broad sash (over a leather belt),
between trousers and shirt, serves as holster for pistol and yataghan.
A short, richly worked waistcoat reaches down to the top of the
sash, but misses meeting across the chest by six inches. The costumes
differ considerably in various parts of Albania. In Southern Albania
the men wear pleated ballet skirts like the Northern Greeks.
[Illustration: THE ALBANIAN AND HIS KULER.]
[Illustration: ALBANIAN.]
For headgear the Albanian generally wears a tiny, tight-fitting white
skull-cap which looks in the sun like a bald spot. Some wear caps of
Ottoman red, from which a rich, full, flowing silk tassel of black or
dark blue falls to the shoulders.
The cut of the hair is peculiar. The men of one section will have
their heads closely shaven, except in one circular space about an
inch across. The single tuft curls down underneath the cap like a Red
Indian’s scalp-lock. Others will shave the top of the head where the
cap rests. There is reason in this; as the Mohamedan seldom removes his
fez, the heat over the head is thereby equalised. There are a dozen
other cuts, none of which beautify the Albanian; nevertheless, he is
always of striking appearance.
The Albanians are of pure European origin. They are tall,
broad-shouldered men, with fine faces. They are quite unlike any of
the other people of Macedonia, even speaking a totally different
language. While nothing definite is known of their origin, it is more
than probable that they are the descendants of the ancient Illyrians,
who once occupied all the western side of the Balkan Peninsula, and
were gradually driven to the mountains of Albania by the successive
invasions of Greeks, Romans, Slavs, and Turks.
Albania has never been wholly subdued or civilised. It was partially
conquered by Servian princes in the Middle Ages, and under them
attained a certain civilisation; but at the Turkish conquest it
relapsed into a wild state.
The majority of the Albanians have become Mohamedans, chiefly
because the religion carried with it the right to bear arms and
other privileges. In ‘Turkey in Europe,’[5] there is an account of a
characteristic Albanian conversion. Until about a hundred years ago the
inhabitants of a certain little group of villages in Southern Albania
had retained their Christianity. Finding themselves unable to repel
the continual attacks of a neighbouring Moslem population, ‘they met
in a church, solemnly swore that they would fast until Easter, and
invoked all the saints to work within that period some miracle that
would better their miserable lot. If this reasonable request were not
granted, they would all turn Mohamedan. Easter day came, but no signs
from saint or angel, and the whole population embraced Islam.’ Soon
afterwards, the change of faith was rewarded; they obtained the arms
which they desired, and had the satisfaction of massacring their old
opponents and taking possession of their lands.
Northern and Southern Albanians are quite different peoples. The
Ghegs and the Tosks they are respectively called. The Tosks are less
turbulent than their Northern brothers. They are ruled by beys, or
hereditary landlords, in a feudal manner. These beys owe an allegiance
to the Sultan. They receive their titles from the Turk, and unless they
do his bidding to the modest extent he demands, a means of getting rid
of them is found.
[Illustration: A GROUP OF ALBANIANS.]
In the North, however, there is not this handle to whip in proselytes.
A Catholic propaganda is protected by Austria, and, with the exception
of one clan, which is all Catholic, every tribe contains both
Mussulmans and Christians. This demonstrates that there is little
fanaticism among them. The clan is stronger than the religious feeling.
It would be difficult for the Turks to carry out there the custom
of disarming Christians. But the Ottoman Government has secured the
loyalty of Christian as well as Mohamedan Ghegs by allowing them
to pillage and kill their non-Albanian neighbours to their hearts’
content. They are ever pressing forward, burning, looting, and
murdering the Servians of the vilayet of Kossovo. The frontier line of
Albania has been extended in this way far up into Old Servia. Even the
frontier of Servia proper is not regarded by these lawless mountain
men. They often make raids into the neighbouring State, as they have
done into Bulgaria when quartered as soldiers on that border.
The Albanians have overrun all Macedonia. They have found their way in
large numbers as far as Constantinople. But beyond their own borders
and the sections of Kossovo from which the Servians have fled,
they are held within certain bounds. In many Albanian districts the
Albanians are exempt from military service, but large numbers of them
join the Turkish army as volunteers. They enlist for the guns and
cartridges.
The Albanian looks down on the Turk. You insult an Albanian and
compliment a Turk if you take either for the other. An Albanian seldom
wears a Turkish fez. Even in the Turkish army the low white skull-cap
is his head-covering.
Sometimes the Albanians show very little regard for their Turkish
officers. Once at Salonica I saw a company refuse to board a train
because some contraband tobacco had been taken from them by the
officials of the foreign monopoly that exists in Turkey. But the Turk
is different; he is fanatically subordinate. On several occasions I
have seen Turkish soldiers stand like inanimate things while their
officers pulled their ears, punched their heads and kicked them.
If they thought their Padisha in earnest the Turkish private and
peasant would never resist a measure of reform. But the Albanians have
always resisted reforms for the reason that reforms would interfere
with their privileges.
The disarming of the Albanians is indispensable to reforms in
Macedonia. The establishment of law courts in Albania was one of Hilmi
Pasha’s additions to the Austro-Russian scheme of reforms! If this
reform is ever applied, both parties in a case will go into court with
all their weapons, and the result will be--no matter which way the
verdict goes--the death of the judge.
Of late years attempts have been made by educated Albanians residing in
Bucharest and in Italy to create an agitation for Albanian autonomy;
but these movements have had no effect as yet on the Albanians; the
Turks are too clever at their control. Should a leader appear among
them who threatens organisation or civilisation, an emissary of the
Sultan arrives with gifts and decorations. If the chief is not venal,
he is enticed or taken secretly by force to Constantinople, where he
may be given authority over a district or province which will more than
compensate him for his loss, but where he can work the empire no harm.
There is no free Albanian border state, as with the Greeks, the
Bulgarians, and the Serbs, and the Turks are able to prevent the
Albanians from becoming educated. There are Catholic schools in
Northern Albania and Orthodox Greek in Southern Albania, but the Turks
deny the very existence of the Albanian language. The publication of
Albanian books is prevented and Albanian schools are suppressed. A few
years ago some of the wealthier inhabitants of a certain town started
a school to teach their children their own tongue. One evening the
professor disappeared. He was stolen by Turkish soldiers, deported,
and imprisoned. He was held for eight months without trial, and then
as arbitrarily released. He received the usual Turkish shrug of the
shoulders when he asked the reason for the outrage. This was at Cortia,
where the Turk’s rule is not merely nominal.
The position of the Albanians in Turkey is unique. It is in the power
of the Turks to subdue and govern them; but the Sultans have preferred
to give them licence and to keep the strip of Adriatic land they occupy
a lawless barrier against the West. There is no railway across Albania,
there is only one place along the coast at which ships stop, and the
foreigner is forbidden by both Albanian and Turk. The Turk protests
that he cannot afford the European safe passport across Albania, and
the Albanian has been taught to suspect every European as a spy come to
reconnoitre for a foreign Power.
A few men from civilisation have been to the heart of this romantic
country. In order to get there safely it is necessary to acquire the
friendship and the confidence of the chief of a clan, and to get from
him a promise of safe passport. Only on one occasion, it is said, did
anyone trusting himself to an Albanian chief lose his life. The man,
with all his escort, was killed by the members of a hostile clan, and
to this day a blood feud lasts as a result.
To take the risk of entering Albania without reason seemed foolhardy,
and as we never had adequate excuse, we left the Balkans without
fulfilling our earnest desire to cross it. We touched the country,
however, from the east and from the west, and encountered Albanians
everywhere in Macedonia.
We sailed down the Adriatic from Trieste, bound for Greece, the
mountains of Albania often visible, and we touched, among Italian and
other ports, at Hagio Saranda. The place has as many names--Albanian,
Turkish, Slav, Italian, German--as it has houses. The Austrian-Lloyd
steamer dropped anchor in the bay, and several queer, unwieldy
row-boats--small barges--came up alongside for a few boxes of Austrian
goods. The ship lay at anchor an hour, and we went ashore. The same
cringing, unarmed Christians, the same swaggering Albanians, the same
suspicious officials and ragged soldiers. The Turks bowed politely as
we landed, and asked questions. We were going down the shore to take a
bath.
‘This is a small town, effendi; we are sorry there is no bath here.’
We were not searching a Turkish bath, and we explained by signs that we
were going out to swim.
‘But, effendi, you have not sufficient time.’
We knew we had.
The argument lasted some time longer, until we broke off rudely,
leaving the officials talking. They did not stop us, but ordered all
the soldiers to follow and see what our object really was; and they
stood behind bushes and rocks from which they could watch us, and also
cover any insurgents with whom we might have rendezvous.