Letërsi - BUNCE, O. B. - Turks, The Greeks and The Slavons, The

Two ladies, quitting England to spend a winter in Athens in order to secure the benefit of its warm yet bracing climate, traveled homeward through Bulgaria and Serbia, and visited the South Slavonic peoples occupying those geographical districts. From their narrative, and other sources, we propose to give some account of a people who have yet a part to play in the world’s history.

The north of Turkey in Europe, and the south of the Austrian Empire, together with Montenegro, which lies between them, are inhabited by races speaking the Slavonic tongue. Those in Austria inhabit the Slavone country, and the so-called “Triune Kingdom of Slavonia,” Croatia, and Dalmatia, besides several districts in Hungary; those in Turkey are between Macedonia and the Danube, and are divided according to their dialects into Bulgarians and Serbs. Altogether they number from ten to twelve millions, and have occupied their present seat for more than a thousand years. Until the end of the fourteenth century they mostly remained independent, and, in respect of civilization, stood fairly on a level with neighboring lands. Then came the Mohammedan deluge, wherein those parts of Europe lying nearest Asia had the ill luck to be overflowed, and when, except the rocks of Montenegro, almost every Slavonic district south of the Danube sank under the power of the Turk. Croatia, by alliances with Hungary and Austria—Dalmatia being taken by Venice—escaped subjection to the Mussulman yoke. As for their Eastern kinsmen it was not until the beginning of this century that a handful of Serbians dwelling on the south bank of the Danube succeeded in wringing from the Porte a recognition of their right to govern themselves. At present their chosen native ruler acknowledges the Sultan as Suzerain; in other respects their self-government is completed But the number of free Serbians scarcely exceeds a million ; the Danubian Principality is a portion of their land. The districts called Old Serbia, Bosnia, Herzegovina, and the whole of Bulgaria—with a population of from six to eight millions—are still administered by Mohammedan officials.

It was these Turk-ruled provinces that our travelers were most anxious to visit; and while in their travels they omitted no portion of Greece or Turkey in Europe, their narrative more particularly applies to that part of their journey which extended from the Aegean to the Adriatic, taking old Serbia by the way. It was in May, 1863, that, taking a Greek steamer at the small Turkish sea-port of Volo, they arrived early in the day at Salonica., The deck of their steamer afforded them a fine view of this famous port. But though cities that rise in amphitheatre round a bay are always most favorably seen from the sea, a Turkish city has a charm of its own whatever its situation, and looked at from what point you please. True to the fostered instincts of his ancestors, the Turk ever seeks to absorb the prosaic town into the poetry of nature ; he multiplies spires to atone for roofs, and wherever he builds a house he plants a tree. For the ground, indeed, he cares not, provided his home be good ; so in roughness his street outdoes a quarry, and in filth exceeds a swine-yard. But potent is the magic of outward beauty. After a time one consents that nose and feet should suffer offense, if only, when the labors of the day are done, one may recline on the cool, flat house-roof, and feast one’s eyes on masses of white and green, fringed by tapering cypresses and glistening minarets.

The antiquities of Salonica occupied two days’ sight-seeing. Almost every street, every fountain shows fragments of colored marbles and sculptured stones; and on the Var-dar Gate and Arch of Constantine may still be seen the processions of Roman triumph. Among the principal objects of interest we may enumerate the churches of the Twelve Apostles, of St. Sophia, and of St. Demetri; the pulpit wherein St. Paul is supposed to have preached ; the so-called Rotunda; and the five . figures (called by the Jews “Incantados”) which formed the Propylaeum of the Hippodrome. Except the two latter relics, which though ruined are not transformed, all that is of the Pagan period has been Byzantinized, and all that was Byzantine has been Mohammedanized.

But the real curiosity of Salonica is its population, that strange medley of antipathetic races. The Therma of ancient history, and the Thessalonica of St. Paul’s Epistles, yields at present the curious instance of a city historically Greek, politically Turkish, geographically Bulgarian, and ethnographically Jewish. Out of about 60,000 inhabitants some 40,000 are Hebrews. These came from Spain, whence they were expelled by the Inquisition. The Hebrews settled in Salonica are handsome, many of them auburn-haired, and their women often delicate and even fair.

Next in interest to the Hebrew comes the Greek community. Although it can not vie in number or wealth with the Jews it counts some rich merchants. Besides these there are certain families which, from intermarriage for generations, are to all intents Greek, yet claim Western descent, and enjoy the protection of foreign powers; this, by sheltering them from Turkish interference, gives them great advantage in trade.

Salonica is described as geographically Bulgarian ; in other words, it is one of the ports of that country, with a Slavonic speaking population, which stretches from the Aegean to the Danube. By Bulgaria we understand not that insignificant portion of the province of Bulgaria, but the whole tract of country peopled by Bulgarians. The population is estimated as between five and six millions. The Bulgarians are distinguished in all essentials from their neighbors—the Greek, the Rouman, and the Turk—they differ in a few points of character from their own Western kindred, the Croato-Serbs, The chief of these latter points is a deficiency in what is called esprit-politique, and a corresponding superiority in the nature of material comfort. Unlike the Serb, the Bulgarian does not keep his self-respect alive with memories of national glory, nor even with aspirations of glory to come; on the other hand, no amount of oppression can render him indifferent to his field, his home, his flower-garden, nor to the scrupulous neatness of his dwelling. How strongly difference of race can tell under identical conditions of climate, religion, and government, is exemplified in towns where Greeks have been dwelling side by side with Bulgarians for centuries. The one is commercial, ingenious, and eloquent, but fraudulent, dirty, and immoral; the other is agricultural, stubborn, and slow-tongued, but honest, cleanly, and chaste.

The rural population of Bulgaria is Christian, and hereabout the rayah has a down-look and a dogged stolidity which give one the impression that heart and mind have been bullied out of him. Of late years, however, he has presented an unflagging resistance to the Porte’s imposition of foreign bishops; and those who have instructed him, both in his own country and out of it, assert that he is of excellent understanding, zealous, and apt to learn. The Christian Bulgarian is reproached as timid, but at least his is the timidity of shrinking, not of servility; he hides from those he fears, he does not fawn on them. His country, lying as it does on the road of Turkish armies to the Danube, has been subject to unceasing spoliation, and nothing is more melancholy than the tale told by its desolate highways, and by the carefulness with which villages are withdrawn from the notice of the passers-by.

Under the old East Roman Empire the people of Bulgaria appear both as subjects and as rulers. Justinian’s birth-place was, as it still is, a Slavonic village, in the neighborhood of Skopia, and his Latin name is a translation of the Slavonic Upravda. The great Belisarius is said to have been the Slavonic Velisar. The Emperor Basil and his line were Slavs.

BULGARIANS: MERCHANTES & PEASANTS

A romantic incident is told concerning the Christianization of the Bulgarians. In the ninth century there lived in Salonica the brothers Cyril and Methodios. Cyril, the elder, was learned and studious; the younger, Methodios, enterprising and energetic. Both were inspired to make known the Gospel to the Slavonie population outside the walls, And while at home Cyril prepared himself by study and cultivation of the language, Methodios went forth as a missionary. The latter presented himself at the court of Boris, King of the Bulgarians, and—as the legend goes—caught the humor of the monarch by offering to paint the walls of a favorite hunting lodge. Boris came to examine the work, expecting to see wolves, bears, and regal huntsmen; instead, he beheld the picture of a Great Day of Judgment, such as are still customary among those peoples where justice is dispensed by the monarch in person. On the throne sat a King, not like Boris, frowning in wild pomp; but majestic and mild. His courtiers stood around him, but they did not flaunt Bulgarian horse-tails, nor flourish bloody weapons ; they had soft waving hair, and gold circlets, and white wings dipped in rainbow hues. The approved servants were being received, on the right hand, above them opened a golden gate; the condemned were dragged, off on the left, and beneath them yawned a pit of fire. But the strangest part was, that among the honored and accepted were to be seen many frail and shrinking forms, the weak, the defenseless, the sick, the blind, and even figures in vile raiment; while among the reprobated was more than one fierce warrior, not altogether unlike to Boris and his lords. The King called the artist to give him the interpretation of this picture, and Methodios expounded it thus: “The Great King is the God of the Christians. He made the earth, and for a while dwelt on it in the likeness of man; but as He took on Him an humble form, and was holy and truthful, wicked men hated Him, and He suffered of them all that the evil still inflict on the truthful and the good. At the ‘Last Day’ He shall come again in His glorious majesty and shall judge both the living and the dead. He knows the sufferings of the oppressed, who Himself was once suffering and poor; He knows the cruel and violent deeds of great men, such men ill-treated Him and crucified Him on a tree.” Boris considered the judgment throne, the winged messengers, the golden light that played over the throne; he felt himself in the presence of power and glory, higher, other than his own. Then he considered the dress and countenances of the guilty, and the grisly monsters that were carrying them away, and his conscience gave him an uneasy twinge as to his own mode of treating the weak and defenseless. He turned to Methodios and said, “Canst thon teach me how I amd my subjects may escape being sentenced to the pit of fire ?” Methodios answered, “Send to Constantinople, and pray the Emperor that he give thee wise men who can instruct thee, and show thee how to tame thy wild people.” One year from this time King Boris and his nobles bowed their proud heads in Christian baptism, and to this day the Bulgarians attribute their conversion to the picture—sermon of Methodios. Therefore he is represented in their schools and churches with his painting in his hand.

From Salonica our travelers proceeded on their inland journey, passing through Yenidje, a small town half Bulgarian half Turk, and reached on the second day Vodena, the Bulgarian “City of Waters,” once Macedonian Edessa. Vodena is situated on a rock at the base of a. series of cascades, its glittering minarets, as viewed from the valley below, seeming to rise besprayed out of the water. The town might be called a miniature Venice but for the difference between still canal water and rushing mountain streams. Straight out of the water rise the handsome houses of the wealthier citizens. Such is the steepness of the bank whereon the city stands that it cost less to wind up the stones for building with a windlass than to bring them thither by road. On each side of Vodena the mountains widen, and through gradual descents of glen and valley subside into the Vardar Plain, which in the purple distance melts into the sea. Such is. a view to the left. On the right from the cascades and mulberry groves of Vodena rises a low range of wooded hills; above this a higher range, and a higher, till all culminate in the Mount Olympus, with its broad, snowy brow.

From Vodena to Monastir, and thence to Ochrida, the “hundred-bridged city” of ancient Bulgaria. Monastir is beautifully situated at the extremity of a great plain, flanked by a majestic range of mountains, amidst which the snow-clad Crest of Peristeri attains a height of 7500 feet.

Ochrida was built in the tenth century by Samuel, Czar of the Bulgarians, who established here the capital of a really formidable monarchy in defiance of the Byzantine Empire. He pushed his conquest so far as to become involved in war with Vladimir, the young Serbian king. Vladimir was captured and carried to the prison at Prespa, near Ochrida, where ensued a pleasant love-story. Kosara, the daughter of Samuel, praying in the palace, was bidden by an angel to visit the prison, and humble herself by washing the captives’ feet. “In the process of this her good work she came on Vladimir, and was struck with his noble looks, his dignity, his calmness; she spoke to him, and was equally astonished with his wisdom and piety; then, hearing that he was of royal rank, and filled with pity for his misfortunes, she felt her heart move toward him, and bade him farewell, bowing herself before him. Resolved to free the noble captive, she hastened to the czar her father, threw herself at his feet, and besought him, saying: ‘My lord and father, I know that thou art thinking to provide me with a husband, as is the custom at my years; therefore I beseech thee of thy goodness give me thy captive the Serbian Vladimir, or know that rather than wed any other than he I will die.’ The czar, who dearly loved his daughter, and knew that Vladimir was a king her equal, rejoiced at her saying, and resolved to fulfill her petition. He sent for Vladimir, and after he had been bathed and dressed in royal apparel he was brought before the czar, who looked on him favorably, and before all his great men received him with a kiss, and gave him to his daughter. After the marriage had been celebrated right royally Samuel restored Vladimir to his kingdom, and gave him, besides his patrimonial lands, Durazzo and the district thereof.”

CATHEDRAL OF OCHRIDA

The Mohammedans of Monastir and Ochrida are more numerous than the Christians. Wherever this is the case the state of the disarmed and disfranchised rayah is most pitiable, and open murder occurs frequently and unpunished. So long as the victims are rayahs the authorities take no notice; and even if they did the conviction of the assassin is hopeless, for a Christian can not give evidence in criminal cases. The Christians can not resist; they are unarmed ; and if they should injure a Mussulman even in self-defense they are rigorously punished.

Notwithstanding the comfort and kindness experienced by our travelers at Monastir, it was no unwelcome change for them from a modern Turkish town to that atmosphere of poetry and romance which surrounds the medieval sites of Serbian power. Prilep, or Perlepe, is common ground for Bulgarians and Serbs; and near it stands the castle of Marko Kralievitch, i.e., the king’s son Marko, who has been described by some as the Serbian King Arthur. His name is interwoven with a world of Serbian mvths and memories.

MUSSULMANS AND RAYAHS

The history of Serbia is marked by four great epochs; and each epoch has its representative man. The first of these is Stephen Nemania, who, in the middle of the twelfth century, welded several detached and vassal governments into an independent monarchy. The second is Czar Stephen Dushan, who, in the middle of the fourteenth century, raised the monarchy into an empire, and aimed to defend the whole peninsula against the attacks of Turkish Mussulmans by uniting its peoples in one strong realm. The third epoch is marked by the fall of Czar Lazar, who, in 1389, lost the decisive battle of Kossovo; after which Serbia became tributary to the Turks.. The fourth epoch dates from the opening of the present century, and is identified with the name of Milosh Obrenovitch. An insurrection of Serbian ravahs had ended in disaster, and its heroic leader, Kara George, worn-out and disheartened, fled into Austria. Then Milosh took up the lost game, tore from under the Turk a fragment of Serbian land on the south bank of the Danube, and made that fragment the germ of a European State. .

From Velessa to Skopia our voyagers had traveled in a taktaravan, a sort of rude litter, without seats, unpadded sides, and too short to lie flat in. The supporting poles were fastened to each side of the wooden saddles of the horses, who went before and behind between the poles. The knots were ill-tied, and constantly slipped, so that now the equilibrium of the conveyance was overthrown on one side and now on the other. From Skopia to Katchanik they traveled in a litter-cart on four wheels, without springs or seats. Four poles supported its canopy, from which hung the curtains. The curtains were cut in strips, and devoid of buttons or strings, so that they kept out neither sun nor rain.

At Katchanik they were entertained by a Mussulman; and a description of the apartments they occupied may be interesting. The windows were supplied with paper panes. The ceiling was carved, and both it and the plaster walls were painted in the gayest hues. Near the windows was a divan covered with cushions, and in front of the divan a raised part of the floor, carpeted, upon which it would be ill-mannered, to tread in shoes. Between the raised floor and the door intervened a lower gradation, uncarpeted; this subdivided into a standing-place for servants, a cupboard, and a stove. The Turks, even in good houses, are in the habit of sleeping in rooms where they also sit and eat, and by day hiding away their bed-clothes in cupboards. They also tolerate accumulated filth of one sort or another, under windows, under divans, in short, every where. Of the Slavons the least cleanly are the Montenegrines, who, however, are ashamed of it, excusing themselves from the fact that during a great part of the year their villages are ill-supplied with water. The Bulgarians are more cleanly than any people between them and the Dutch.

Our travelers are now at Prishtina, in the very heart of old Serbia. They here visited a Christian school. The school-room was large, airy, clean, properly fitted up, and embellished with texts from the Slavonic Bible written scroll-wise on doors and walls. The books were from Belgrade, but as they seemed adapted for young children, we asked if they had not some histories of Serbia. The master looked furtively around, and then said that he had some, but dared not to use them openly. “Why not?” “Because the officers of the Turkish regiments frequently come and loll about in our school, and the cavalry officers are often Hungarians or Cossacks or Poles, and can read the Slavic books.” “But these brief, dry histories, contain nothing revolutionary, and surely the officers who are your fellow-Christians would not wish to calumniate you.” “The rest would not, but the Poles are more Turkish than the Turks themselves. One day a Polish officer looked over the shoulder of one of the children, and called but ‘Halloa, master, what do I see here? These books are different from those used in Bulgaria; they come from the Principality, and here is something about the history of Serbia. If I catch you at this again I shall report you to the authorities.’ I trembled from head to foot, and knew not what I should say or do; but luckily there was also present a Cossack, a deserter from the Russian service, a good man who had always befriended us; he got the Pole out of the room, and said to him in displeasure that they were not sent to Prishrtina to meddle with the Serb school. Since then all reading of our country’s history has beea in private.” It need not be pointed out what ill service this Polish officer was doing the Sultan, in thus angering the Christians by suppressing the open school study of Serbian history, on a spot where its most exciting details are known to eyery man, woman, and child, thr6ugh the medium of national song.

The name of Serbia is ordinarily limited to the free districts. Old, or Stara Serbia, is a term ignored by the Turks in the districts to which the Slavonic Christians apply it. The Turks give it the name of Arnaoutluk. Both names are used by the people themselves. If some act of lawlessness is spoken of, both Turks and Serbians alike reply, “What do you expect in Arnaoutluk?” If the traveler halt in admiration at the sight of an ancient church and exclaim, “Who would have thought to find such a building hereabouts!” the friend who acts as cicerone will remind you in a whisper that this is Stara Serbia.

At Vuchitern the travelers had an opportunity of visiting a Mohammedan girls’ school, and also a harem. Having hint6d their wish to see a display of the beauty and splendor of Albanian costume, of which they had heard much, a gratification of their wishes was promised. Arriving at the gate of the harem they were conducted through a court to the chardak, on which carpets and cushions lay prepared. In a few moments a troop of ladies crowded in, and squatting on the chardak stared at the visitors. Many of them were old and withered, and wore a heterogeneous costume; others were gayly coifed with seed pearls, and coins, but enveloped in a black serge pelisse. These younger dames were painted to that degree that at first the travelers supposed they wore masks, and as their mask-like faces represent the ideal of beauty in this part of the world, it may be stated that this consists of cherry lips and cheeks, a very fair complexion, and jet black eyebrows strongly drawn. Among them all stood one unpainted, fresh-looking girl—a bride—and she it was who produced the fine clothes. Her trousseau was brought forth, bit by bit, and all wrapped in pretty handkerchiefs, for it is a coquetterie de toilette that the handkerchief should be handsome enough to correspond with the garment it enfolds. After a little coaxing she went in and dressed, reappearing in a suit of rose-colored under-robes, with the over-robe of dark green velvet; a charming ensemble of which the idea seems to be taken from a rose-bud half folded in its leaves.

SERBIAN PEASANTS AND TOWNSPEOPLE

The experience of the travelers convinced them that if Turkish women value their prestige as beauties they must oppose every attempt to draw them into public view, and for the following reasons : Most Oriental women have dark eyes, bright enough to look bewitching through the slit of the yoshmak, and all can paint well enough to produce a complexion which seems roses and lilies when half seen through muslin folds. But alas for their charms should the veil be torn away, and the wearers be called on to show their faces honestly beside those of European women—the whole face, in broad daylight, exposed to sunshine, wind, and rain ! Of course in the wealthy harem, where a high price is paid for beauty, and the faded rose is discarded or passed on, one sees exquisite forms arrayed with taste and splendor. But many of the officials in the European provinces can not afford polygamy, nor to buy Circassian slaves; or, as sometimes happens, they have inherited the favorite of some higher official hence in this class, as a rule, the women are un-pleasing to behold. Indeed it is hard ‘to see how they could be otherwise. They destroy their teeth by smoking and eating bonbons, even when they do not blacken them on purpose. They dock their hair, they cultivate fatness, they bedaub their finger and toe nails with a coating that looks like red mud. Then, unless they have what is much admired, a broad, flat, featureless countenance, they exhibit the Turkish long nose, retreating brow, cut away chin, and sallow complexion. Absence of intellectual occupations, and exclusion from cultivated society, deprive plain faces of a redeeming expression of intelligence, while even fine features bear the stamp of sloth, triviality, and too often of unbridled passion.

CASTLE OF PRIZREN

One of the most picturesque towns in Serbia is Prizren, its ancient capital. It now contains about four thousand inhabitants, and is without political or commercial importance. But for two hundred years it was the residence of the sovereign and the seat of government. During this period it was a prosperous city; Bulgaria and Serbia exchanged their products at its fairs; between it and Venice there was constant intercourse. Its strong frontier in the heart of the Serbian lands left it undisturbed by wars on the frontier. Three hundred and sixty churches and monasteries stood in its neighborhood. Four centuries of Turkish rule have stripped it of architectural ornament; but it retains something of its ancient majesty of attitude and general effect. The traveler as he approaches it sees before him a great white city enthroned on the Slanina, with its 6kirts sweeping the plain. From a picturesque mass of white and green there stands out imposingly a broad platform. Does it support the “Dvor” of the Nemanides? No! a modern Turkish fortress, which, like Turkish fortresses in general, is more formidable to the town than to outward foe. Behind this castle a spear-like rock shoots upright, rearing on its summit the tatters of a tower. On entering the town each telling feature speaks of an Arnaout present and a Serbian past. The minaret of the principal mosque is a wooden pepperbox, but it has for base a broad stone tower; behind the tower rise the five cupolas of a church. The portico of another mosque rests on pillars torn from an adjacent monastery, and the stones still bear the sign of the cross. Then, if from the lower street you raise your eyes to the houses on the hill, which here seem to crowd one above another in perpendicular steepness; among them, too, stand out here and there the unmistakable arches and domes.

From old Serbia the travelers entered Bosnia, lying to the north and westward of Serbia, and, like that district, under the Sway of Mohammedan officials. Their description of a guard of Arnaouts, sent to conduct them into Spek, is picturesque. The leader of the band was noted as one of the greatest villains in Arnaoutluk, and on that account was probably made answerable for their safety from the banditti and bands of semi-robbers that infested that region. Banditti, indeed, were common throughout Turkey in Europe, with the exception of Free Serbia. The red figure of the leader as they first saw him starting up in the green wilds might have done duty for that of Zamiel in the “Freischutz.” Tall, weedy, and of a livid complexion, he had lank black hair, and black eyes hidden by the lids. He was quite young, but cruelty and pitiless greed had effaced every trace of youthful geniality; the nose was sharp, the under-lip protruding, the voice shrill. Among the Slavonic race, both Mussulman and Christian, we saw many a man famed for ferocity, but never one without some trace of human heart, some turn of countenance that suggested he might be kind to children, gentle in his own family, and—when his suspicions were not roused—hospitable. But in this Arnaout and other of his species, the smile is more hideous than the frown, the laugh more cruel than the threat, the whole instinct seems prey. Among beasts the Bosniac would answer to the bear—the Arnaout to the wolf or the hyena. So much for the man, but his dress was admirable : they were now entering the region of Ghegga costumes, and one description may do for a specimen. Their guide rode a milk-white horse, which was splendidly accoutred. His tunic was of scarlet cloth, bordered with gold, and reached to the knee; round the waist it was girded with a shawl, hiding a leathern belt, whence issued the usual complement of silver-mounted arms. His sleeves hung so long behind that, when riding, he had to draw them through his girdle, but in front they flew open, displaying to the shoulder a wide tinder-sleeve of silk gauze, white and gleaming in its richness, and bordered with a fine-wrought fringe. On his head he wore a scarlet fez, with a dark-blue tassel of enormous size; in addition to this a yellow silk handkerchief, which ought to have been wrapped around it as a turban, but in deference to new fashion was fastened under the fez, tying up the neck and jaws. This last addition to the toilet proved an unlucky one, for it gave the wearer, with his drawn and sallow features, the air of a corpse dressed out in its best clothes.

At Ipek they found the Christian schools, under the zealous care of a remarkable woman named Katerina, more advanced and prosperous than elsewhere. The subject of education, indeed, actively concerns all the Christian Slavs. They ask for schools, for books, for teachers, and lament continually the disadvantages under which they labor. Katerina, say our travelers, was one of the most remarkable persons they met in Turkey. She was a woman advanced in middle age, above middle height, with a pale, calm face and singularly refined expression. She has nothing saintish about her, still less any thing wheedling and sly; but, perfectly self-possessed and gentle, the authority of her presence makes itself felt. Her story is, that she was taught to read by a pope—whether her own husband or her sister’s was not clear. She became a widow, and her only child died. Then, in her own words, “Having no children to bring up of my own, I began to teach the children of others. At last the bishop came from Prizren. It happened that he understood Serb, and he said to me, ‘Would you not like to be a nun, and to give up the world, and dedicate yourself to God’s work?’ I answered, ‘If I become a nun, can I go on teaching children ?’ He said, ‘Assuredly you can; nay, you will teach them better.’ So nun I became, and what he said proved true. My religious character gave me authority; the people listened, and sent their children, and other women joined themselves to me.” Katerina was asked how she contrived to get her school-girls through the streets, since elsewhere this proved so great an obstacle. She answered it was at first a great difficulty; it could only be overcome by making up one’s mind to put up with any thing rather than relinquish a good purpose, trusting that God would help at last. Of course the Arnaouts did all they could to oppose her, and twice they had broken into her school and carried off whatever they could find; luckily it was so poor that they had little inducement to rob it often.

RAYAH PAYING TRIBUTE

Leaving Ipek under an escort consisting of a red-tunicked Arnaout, with his bashi bazouks; an Uzbashi of nizam, with six troopers carrying flags; mounted citizens, among whom are a Latin elder and a Serb pope, the travelers drew up before the Mohammedan girls’ school. A door in the garden wall was opened by its turbaned keeper, and as they entered it each was seized by a hodgia (teacher), more like a harpy. They were embraced, dragged, carried through the court into the house, and finally deposited on a low divan in the corner of a small close room stuffed with women. The harpies began tearing off their riding things and fanning them. The first was enormously fat and red-faced; another, haggard and vulture-beaked, was coifed with a pale-green veil. The noise they made was stunning; and among their outcries could be distinguished, “Are you Mohammedans? are you Mohammedans?” At first, not feeling sure of consequences, no notice was taken of this query; but rendered desperate by their civilities they at last cried out, “No; we are Christians!” These words acted like a spell. The three “hodgias” fell back, the crowd closed on them, even the voices underwent a lull; and profiting by this result they contemplated the tenants of the school-room. Except a few puzzled-looking children, all were grown up, and many past their prime, evidently an assembly of the Arnaout ladies of Ipek. Presently they asked, in Serbian, if they would kindly show them their books. Thereupon the harpies-in-chief reappeared. “What was wanted? Coffee was coming.” Suddenly a voice sounded behind, and they perceived outside the low window a woman holding a baby, who looked into the room over their shoulders. She spoke Serbian, and said, “You wish them to read, do you not?” Then lifting up her voice she shouted into the room, “They want you to teach—teach, I say.” General hubbub, every one with a different outcry. “What do you want?” “Books,” “Coffee,” “Teach.” At this juncture the fat hodgia leaned over, and, with hospitable intent to make their seat more comfortable, began clawing up the fusty cushions behind and clapping them. Stifled, the travelers sprang to their feet, and, as courteously as the crisis permitted, dived and waded through the squatting forms. At the door they met the coffee, but were not tempted to do more than put their lips to it. The turbaned keeper laughed good-naturedly at their suffering aspect, and hastened to undo the garden entrance. Once without, the red-coated Arnaout and the Uzbashi, the nizam, the Serbs, and the Latins, all appeared saints and angels after the crew within the school.

We can not follow our travelers in their long and slow journey to the Adriatic. The incidents of the road were not striking, and in no instance does their narrative become intense or thrilling. The scenery of their route was picturesque ; the towns and villages often romantically situated; the habits of the people, of course, peculiar; and many of the minor incidents and experiences of the journey not without attractive interest.

At the present moment, when the attention of all is fixed upon the Christians in those regions, and when rumors of wars and rebellions against the Turk are reaching us, we are glad to learn more than we have known of a people likely soon to fill an important part in the world’s history. The Greeks have always excited our sympathy, but of the southern Slavons we have known but little. According to the accounts of the ladies whose travels we have been following, the Slavs are even more entitled to our aid and sympathy than their Greek neighbors. In Free Serbia they have proved their ability for self-government; and in the other districts, even while suffering under the galling despotism of the Turk, educating their children almost in secret, studying their national annals by stealth, practicing their worship under foreign bishops, hiding their means from legal de-spoilers, without security of life, liberty, or property, taxed, imprisoned, and persecuted at the capricious pleasure of venal magistrates, they have still labored for education, hoped for freedom, cherished their faith, and retained those simple personal virtues which characterize their race.

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