III. SERBIA: SEAWARD
The Nations of Europe that had over-looked Serbia in her days of strength—she was so young, and so far away, half hidden in her wilderness of mountains—the Nations of Europe that had turned deaf ears to her cries when the Turk attacked her, began to make inquiries about the little sister. She had been asleep so long that some of them really imagined her dead. But they heard some plaintive music: they recognized her voice as she sang. They saw that she was not only alive, but awake, thoroughly wide awake, and that she was asking for help. But they had troubles enough of their own—revolutions and things of that kind. The people were altogether too troublesome—so at least the rulers said—and the people, who ought to have heeded poor Serbia's cries, did not take time to find out just who she was, and what she desired. All might have been different had they known that Serbia was one of themselves, acknowledging no privileged classes and desiring little but a chance to get on her feet and walk alone. For this she needed space to expand in, space in which to exhale the spirit of freedom that filled her. The Turk, her master, was growing weaker. She could almost strike off her own shackles when suddenly a deliverer came—one of her own people, a son of her mountains.
When her master was driven away, Serbia began to look about her, a little humbly at first, for she was trying to understand herself. She saw that she needed education before she could take her proper place in the world. So she set herself bravely to learn from books. She noticed that the stronger Nations were governed by rules, and she gave herself a Constitution patterned on theirs. Regular work was hard for her, but she worked diligently and saved a little, though disinclined to hoard. She had rich treasures hidden away but she had never thought about them, even as playthings. What does a child care for diamonds? But when it was made clear to her that wealth is power, she worked more heartily.
The other Nations began to admit that Serbia was no longer Nobody. Indeed she was so near being Somebody that many thought it would be wise to win her friendship, and wiser to put her under obligations. So when she asked for an Hereditary Prince, presto! the thing was accomplished! though once she had hardly dared ask more than the privilege of naming her own chief.
In outward aspect Serbia began to be more like other people, although some of her neighbors remembered too well her hoydenish days and her years of poverty. Still, they could flatter her sometimes, for she held the key to certain things that several of them needed—trade routes, fertile lands, and other things that no ambitious Nation should live without. Soon some of her neighbors desired to control the sale of things that modestly enough she had begun to offer to the world. She had heard that money was power, and she hoped to send her goods to market in the best way. She noticed that every one who made a success of business had a place by the sea. In the whole family of Nations she was the only one who had not a place by the sea, except the littlest one perched up in the high mountains. But this little one makes a success by trading in beauty. Yet beauty is an intangible thing to carry to any market and is best disposed of in the mountains themselves.
When Serbia first expressed her longing for the sea every one frowned. "Impossible!" There were other things that ought to please her as well—opportunities to help them in their wars, little snips of territory here and there if she helped them gain anything. But a seaport—ridiculous! Why, the Imperial cousin on one side of her would be insulted! What better could little Serbia wish than to market her goods to him, or at least send them over routes he had picked out?
Then Serbia said less and thought more. She sang less, but she composed more songs, and she listened to the people talking, not singing. She found she could not live by poetry alone. The Young Serbs and the Panslavs told her their plans and she looked hopefully at her big fur-clad Cousin. But though with him it wasn't a question of trade, he had ambitions of his own. He wasn't sure but that Serbia with a seat by the sea might watch him too closely. Then all the others in the great family of Nations took sides with one or the other.
Serbia was restless, but she knew she could wait. Her household was now much more closely united than in the days of her youth, and she had realized what had once seemed a vain dream—comparative independence. So she could wait!
Who would look at pictures of massacres extending throughout Serbia! at plundered villages! at tortured women and fatherless children shrieking in agony! All the horrors inflicted by the Turks on the Serbs in the early nineteenth century were the convulsive movements of one near his end. The Turk himself was growing weaker and weaker, and his weakness was Serbia's opportunity. But where was the man to lead her out of bondage? There was now no heir to her throne, the throne of what had once been a proud kingdom. Assassination and exile had led also to the passing of the old nobility. Although the family of the ancient kings was no more, the old racial stock had little changed. The Serbs were still of the same indomitable race, still breathing the spirit of freedom, still bound to one another in a true brotherhood. Yet, loyal though they were, ready to die for Serbia, where could they look for a leader?
In the early part of 1804, Mustapha Pasha, the Turkish Governor of Belgrade, was much too kind and benign a man to suit the Janissaries and the Dahias, their leaders. They had dealt slaughter right and left, and at last had killed Mustapha himself because he had opposed their cruelty. While they were planning a general massacre of the most eminent Serbs in the country, all Serbs who could were fleeing to the mountains. The rumored massacre was the last straw, and a silent cry arose, "Oh, for the right man!" Then came the whisper that a leader had been found—Karageorges, Black George, a prosperous raiser of swine, at this time about forty years old. He had served in the Austrian armies nearly twenty years before under Joseph I, that Emperor who, of all the Austrian monarchs, is said to have meant the most and to have done the least.
Karageorges, Black George, so called either on account of his dark complexion or his moody disposition, a brave man and a man of character, had fled to the Sumadia for safety. He had great influence among the large body of refugees in that beautiful forest region of secure mountain fastnesses. Karageorges was a blunt, plain man, and honest. He had a strong sense of justice, though notably hot tempered. At the meeting, when he was chosen leader, there were about five hundred Serbs, men all under arms. In responding to their request that he would lead them against the Turks, he said: "Again, brothers, I cannot accept, for if I accepted I certainly would do much not to your liking. If one of you were taken in the smallest treachery, the least faltering, I would punish him in the most fearful manner." "We want it so, we want it so!" they cried. When he saw that they were in earnest, Karageorges accepted the office they conferred on him and the Archpriest of Bonvokik received and consecrated his oath. Upon this Karageorges took supreme control of the insurrection.
At this same meeting, in the little village of Oorshats, they organized a National Assembly. At first the Serbs with tactics worthy an Oriental managed to keep the Sultan's attention from their insurrection by protesting that they were in arms not against the Sultan himself but against the Dahias, who, by disobeying him, were the real rebels. Deceived, or willing to seem deceived, the Porte let them work out their own plans. But the battle of Ivankovitz awoke The Sublime Porte. Turks defeated by Serbs! The world had never heard of such a thing! In vain Napoleon advised The Porte to take no notice of the Serb insurrection. It was merely part of a Russian plot! Soon the army of Karageorges was before Shabaz, where the Turks were intrenched. The Turkish commander shouted from the heights, ordering Karageorges and his men to give up their weapons. "Come and get them!" cried Karageorges. In a short time the Serb leader and his army were in Shabaz, from which the enemy had fled in great disorder. Austria was now too intent upon her own war with Napoleon to give the Serbs the help they sought. She merely advised them to make peace with The Porte. In accordance with her usual policy, she wished to cramp the little State within small limits, subject to her interests. Russia, though more sympathetic, had little thought to spare for Serbia. At this moment she herself was trying to make an alliance with Turkey against Napoleon, but she did advise Serbia not to accept the recent offer of The Porte to give her self-government and to recognize Karageorges.
Pathetic enough was the vacillation of Serbia between Austria and Russia. Had Austria been more responsive, Karageorges would have preferred closer relations with her. But while Austria was indifferent to Serbia's advances the Tsar, showing more interest in Serbia's affairs, agreed to send his agent to her. He promised help also if the Serbians would agree to all things initiated by the Russian government. Austria was disturbed. Serbia was too bold; she must be watched!
Like most really great men Karageorges, even when first acclaimed his country's deliverer, had enemies. The old question of centralization and decentralization had come up. Many thought him too autocratic. The enemies of Serbia encouraged decentralization. Divided, she would be easier to subdue. Russia disapproved of many things done by Karageorges. But he had the strong support of the Sumadia in whatever he did. When the Turks again tried to invade Serbia, Russian and Serbian troops, fighting side by side, drove them away. But for the party troubles, but for the loudly expressed ill will of leaders of the opposition, Karageorges might have been happy.
Though Serbs fought side by side with Russians until 1812, it happened that no important battles took place on Serbian territory. During these years Serbia not only had self-government, but she somewhat increased her boundaries by lands taken from neighboring Pashiliks. Yet she had her disappointments. Turkey, when Russia's war with Napoleon began, disregarded the few concessions made to Serbia by the Peace of Bucharest. At last, the Grand Vizier led his army against Serbia, and although her men fought bravely, they had to draw back from the frontier. Then a strange thing happened! With no obvious reason, Karageorges went back to Belgrade with the army reserves. Without staying there even for a day, he and part of his officers practically deserted the army. Crossing the Danube into Austria, they forsook their country in her day of trial. With them went the Russian consul and the Metropolitan and many leading Serbians with their families.
The downfall of Karageorges was due to no fault of his. No one ever doubted his courage, and could he have had his own way, when he saw the impossibility of pushing back the enemy, he would have gone again to his stronghold in the Sumadia, there to fight to the last. But there was a frontier to be defended, and Serbs owning property along the rivers begged for protection. The army was not large enough to accomplish all that was demanded of it. The Turks were victorious and with their victory there began again a series of acts of unspeakable cruelty.
Among the Serbs who remained in Serbia when Karageorges and his friends crossed over into Austria was Milosh Obrenovitch. He had not only served with Karageorges in the Austrian armies, but he had worked for him as a keeper of swine on his Sumadia estate. During the recent revolution he had helped his great leader by watching the Balkan passes for unfriendly Bosnians and Albanians.
When Milosh saw that the Turks were, for the time at least, masters, he offered to help them reconquer the Serbs. In reality, faithful to his own people, he was only waiting a chance to aid them. The time came and one memorable Palm Sunday, 1817, he appeared near the church at Tokova and the people called upon him to lead them against the Turks. He told them that this would be a difficult undertaking. "We know that, but we are ready for anything. Dost thou not see that we perish as it is?" "Here am I," he replied. "There stand you!" "War to the Turks! With us is God and the right." Then arms were brought out from underground hiding places. His men were ready and Milosh led them on to victory over the Turks. When later the Turks came to treat with him, they made him tribute collector. Many of the Serb chiefs were therefore displeased and wished to fight openly. They suspected Milosh of double-dealing. Among these was Karageorges who had landed unexpectedly in Serbia. Karageorges and Milosh were no longer friends. One explanation of this was that Milosh suspected Karageorges of poisoning his brother Milan, who had died suddenly, but no one who really knew Karageorges could suspect him of using poison to a rid himself of an enemy.
But the world does believe that Milosh betrayed Karageorges to the Turks. Certainly the latter was murdered by the Turkish Governor's men—beheaded in the lonely house where he was sleeping. This was a pathetic end for a great life that had held as many melodramatic as tragic events. Karageorges was a true patriot. He was neither cruel nor blood-thirsty, though circumstances often compelled severity. A glance at his portrait shows his nobility of character. That he was a lover of law and justice was evident by his promptly establishing a system of law-courts for Serbia. He reduced taxation, and though he could neither read nor write—or because of this—he zealously supported education. He hoped that the time would come when Serbia need no longer send outside to get the trained men whose help she needed. He established many good public schools, among them the High School at Belgrade, which later grew into the University.
Among his tragic moments was that one when he had to shoot his father in order to prevent his torture by the Turks, and that other when he refused to save his brother from execution when he found he deserved the death penalty. More melodramatic than tragic was a critical moment in the National Assembly when members sat with pistols held at their heads that they might not act foolishly.
Though not a crowned King, in name, Karageorges had all the power of a monarch. Yet with so much at his command he retained his taste for the simplest life. His dress was that of the peasant and, even when Chief Executive of Serbia, he often cooked his own meals in the kitchen of his dwelling.
After the death of Karageorges the efforts of Serbia to have Turkey recognize her dragged on. At last, in 1820, the Sultan by a special bérat made Serbia a hereditary princedom. This was a long step in the right direction.
Milosh, feeling secure in his seat, did well by his country, and better by himself. Years after his death, Serbs in gossiping groups would recount the divers ways in which Milosh had filled his coffers. His keenness for the main chance, and his general canniness, all his subjects admired hugely. But the burly neighbor looking on was less pleased. Why did a little struggling State trouble herself so about education, and economical housekeeping? Why should she try to attain the impossible? Then, to show poor Serbia how impossible her ambitions were, Russia frowned and agreed with those who thought the hereditary Prince too autocratic. In eastern Europe there was room for only one Autocrat. "Moreover," muttered Russia, "why should an Autocrat give a Constitution to Serbia?" A threat was mingled with the muttering—and Milosh withdrew the Constitution.
Yet Russia used her influence so strongly with Turkey that Great Britain began to take an interest in Serbia. The young State was growing too fast, there was no telling where she might wander. She needed a guardian—some one to watch her, to note where she was going and tell her she must not. So Great Britain sent Colonel Hodges to Serbia as her General Consul, and he whispered—for Russia must not hear him—that in case Serbia had trouble with Russia, Great Britain and France would stand by her. Next, the Porte, never before known as a constitution maker, invited Milosh to send deputies to Constantinople to plan a new Constitution for Serbia. But Milosh found this new Constitution no better than the one Russia had made him withdraw. Alas for Milosh! alas for Serbia! Although the new Constitution was to have the guarantee of the Great Powers, the Constitution itself would not hold water. A few months later, the authority of the Prince of Serbia was modified. It was ordered that he should have a Council of seventy life members. He had desired Councillors whom he could appoint and dismiss at will, but Turkey, forgetting a promise to Great Britain, had yielded to Russia. As the Constitution required Milosh to appoint the most distinguished men in his realm as Councillors, and as at this time Serbia's men of influence were chiefly his enemies, he was disturbed. Although the British Ambassador counseled patience, Milosh plotted to do away with this Constitution by a military vote. When his plans fell through, he abdicated, in June, 1839, and retired to his home in Wallachia. Before abdicating, however, Milosh had to sign the Constitution imposed upon him at the instigation of Russia, and this limiting of the power of the hereditary Prince was a good thing for Serbia.
Milan, the eldest son of Milosh, survived but three weeks after his father's abdication. Michel, the younger son, succeeded him. While he was wrangling with the Porte and Russia, Vuychitch, a Councillor, started a rebellion and Michel, not knowing what else to do, left Serbia. This suited Vuychitch and soon the National Parliament elected the son of Karageorges Prince of Serbia. Serbia was quiet and prosperous during his reign, but Alexander himself was of a timid and wavering temperament, not even bold enough to summons a National Assembly. Friendly to Turkey and to Austria, rather than to Russia, he pleased no one of them, and finally, when he did call a National Assembly, the Council dethroned him. Old Milosh was now asked to return and the change of rulers was made without excitement or disorder.
At the death of Milosh after three short years, his son, the exiled Michel, returned to the throne. In his exile he had grown wiser and he was ready with a definite program for Serbia's good. He saw that if his country was to be respected, her independence must be guarded. First among his many reforms was a new Constitution to replace the one Russia had imposed on Serbia. Michel was a good diplomatist and, in 1862, when the Turkish Government at Belgrade bombarded Belgrade, he demanded the evacuation of all the forts, and some of them complied. Next he sent his wife to London—the beautiful Julia, Countess Hunyadi. She interested Gladstone, Bright, and other influential Englishmen in little Serbia. He armed and drilled a national army and had an understanding with Greece and other Balkan states for a general uprising against the Turks. Finally he requested the Sultan to remove all Turkish garrisons in Serbia, and when Great Britain supported the advice the other Great Powers gave the Sultan, the later, at last, gave up the forts to Michel. Michel did much for Serbia. He built good highways, laid out parks, and gave her many fine public buildings, including an opera house. He was among the first to emphasize Serbia's need of a seaport, and he was equally far-sighted in many other matters.
Michel had no children and when the Karageorges exiles heard that he meant to divorce his wife and remarry, their own hopes of power in Serbia faded. Poor Michel, their victim, was assassinated in the spring of 1868. No change of dynasty followed Michel's death. Serbia proclaimed as Prince, Milan, son of a first cousin of Milosh the elder.
Milan's early years had been spent in Paris, and the kind of education he received there left its bad impress on his whole life. When confirmed by the Skupchtina he was barely thirteen, and little more than of age when, five years later, urged by Panslavists, he had a war with Turkey. Although Serbia was defeated, this war forced the Balkan situation, and the attention of Europe was turned toward the little Nation that held the key to the Balkans. Milan had made strategic mistakes, and when the vast Turkish army was invading Serbia, he called on the Great Powers for help. While they hesitated, Russia ordered Abdul Hamid to sign an immediate truce. When Russia within a few weeks of this went to war with Turkey, Serbia, in spite of her recent losses, was able to help her. After capturing Vrania, Pirot, and Nish, Serbia had the joy of celebrating Mass on the Field of Kossovo where five hundred years before she had lost everything.
Yet at the Peace of Stefano Serbia did not get a fair reward. Her welfare was but a shuttlecock, beaten back and forth between great nations. She could secure, at the Berlin Congress, neither complete independence nor the annexation of certain territories she hoped for. But at this Congress Austria gained her own ends by giving Serbia two strong neighbors for watchdogs, Bulgaria and East Roumelia. She also imposed a barrier between Serbia and her strongly desired goal—the sea.
When Milan saw that he could not depend on Russia, whom he had been brought up to regard as a friend, he turned to Austria. He began to pay long visits to Vienna. Thus he angered both his own people and the Tsar, but Austria was always ready to give him the money his manner of life required. The building of new railways threw the Nation into debt, and between the advice given first by Progressives, then by Radicals, Milan the ne'er-do-well could barely enjoy a life devoted to pleasure. At the beginning of his reign the Porte had acknowledged him hereditary Prince of Serbia, but Milan, aiming higher, in 1882 had himself proclaimed King. Not long after this, in a war with Bulgaria, he had to retreat ingloriously before Prince Alexander of Battenberg. Indeed, now, as on other occasions throughout his reign, Milan behaved like the proverbial spoiled child. Sometimes, fearing his people might use a rod made of something more stinging than words, he would completely disarm them in a brilliant speech. When things were at their very worst his statesmen would extricate him. Yet gradually he lost influence with the Nation in spite of the new Constitution which gave them most things that enlightened nations seek. But various happenings were tending to estrange him from his people, not the least of which was his undignified quarrel with his wife, with whom, even after their divorce, he continued to bicker about their son. Milan was rather a blunderer than a villain, and as he had managed to hold the affection of his people through all his misdeeds, political or domestic, his abdication was a great surprise. He went away suddenly to live in Paris the life he preferred, after making provision that Alexander, his son, should succeed him.
Alexander was but a boy of fourteen when he came to the throne—a subnormal boy, and wilful, too. As an Autocrat he had no rival among modern Serbian rulers. No one unmade and made so many Constitutions. No Prince or King of Serbia surprised his people with so many coups d'état. But the time had passed when the misdoings of a ruler could make the people of Serbia very unhappy. Although the King never failed to show that he despised not only statesmen and scholars but even distinguished army officers, he could terrorize neither individuals nor the Nation. The three great parties, Liberal, Radical, and Progressive, were not afraid to express opinions, and many reforms were projected and carried out. Serbs as a whole were anxious to be counted among the people of the world of intelligence and culture. Alexander and Draga mortified them; but the assassination of the wretched pair lowered the Nation in the estimation of humanity.
Less than a week had passed since the killing of the King and Queen, in the spring of 1903, when the Skupchtina elected Peter Karageorgevitch to the throne. This grandson of Karageorges had been an exile for forty-five of his fifty-seven years of life. Austria and Russia alone among the Great Powers were willing now to recognize him. Great Britain waited three years before sending back her Minister to Serbia. This was after the regicides had gone from the country.