This Stephen founded the Nemanya dynasty and welded the broken tribes into a strong Empire. It was called that of Rassia, after its capital Rasha, now in the Sandjak Novibazar. The House of Nemanya flourished, the Empire of Rassia overflowed its frontiers, and under Stephen Dushan, 1331-1355, included Macedonia, Albania, Thessaly, Epirus, and Bulgaria. Stephen took the title of Tsar. But with his son Stephen Urosh, a weakling, the House of Nemanya died out.
During the reign of this last Tsar dissensions had broken out again. Vukashin the Voivod rose in rebellion, rendering his country an easy prey to a new foe, more formidable than any the Serbs had yet encountered, the Turk.
Leaving the Emperor of the East trembling in his purple throne-room, Amurath I was moving over Eastern Europe with a vast, well-disciplined army, conquering where he went. On the Amselfeld at Kossovo the Serbs first met in battle this enemy whom they have frequently met since, whom they met again so recently, perhaps for the last time in the history of Europe.
In vain had the Greek Emperor appealed to Catholic Europe for assistance as the horns of the Crescent closed in upon Byzant. But the Serbs responded to the call. Reunited once more under Knjes Lazar, the chivalry of Servia, then of high repute, joined with Albanians, Bosnians, Bulgarians, to stem the full-flowing tide of Moslems. The armies met at Kossovo and battle raged with varying fortunes till evening, but the ranks of the Christian forces were thinning rapidly. Vukashin had fallen, Knjes Lazar was captured, and Amurath’s son Bajazet, called by his men Yilderim (Lightning) struck swift and sure. Milosh Kabilovitch, a Servian knight, dashed out from among the hard-pressed chivalry and galloped forth as if deserting from the Servian ranks. He sought the presence of Amurath, alleging that he had important intelligence concerning the plans of the Allies. Kneeling before Amurath he suddenly leapt up and buried his dagger in the Sultan’s heart. His astounding strength and agility enabled him to reach the place where he had left his horse, but here he fell under the sabres of the Janissaries. Amurath survived but to the close of the battle; his last act was to order the death of Lazar, the Servian King, who, standing in chains, regaled the dying eyes of his conqueror.
Bajazet succeeded to the throne of Othman on the field of battle and divided Servia, forced to pay tribute to the Sultan and render military service, between Stephen, son of Lazar, and Vuk Brankoviç. The latter’s son George, assisted by Hungarians, made a last effort to restore Servia’s independence, and succeeded; the Peace of Szeggedin in 1444 gave Servia a few more years of freedom. But after fifteen years Mohammed the Conqueror marched through Servia and put an end to its existence as an independent kingdom for many centuries. The Osmanli forced the Serbs into subjection by all the cruelties their ingenuity in that direction suggested. Nearly all the best families were extirpated, though a few managed to escape to Hungary and others took refuge among the Black Mountains, whence their descendants came down the other day, only a few weeks ago, to meet their old enemy the Turk.
The old nobility of Servia ceased to exist after Mohammed’s conquest, and those who were allowed to remain in time embraced Islam, without doing which no one under Turkish rule in those days need expect justice or chance of promotion; of the common people two hundred thousand were sold into slavery by the Osmanli soldiery, and Servia became a Turkish province, a sandjak, a purely military terrain d’occupation.
There are still some ancient monuments left standing which tell of the days when Servian chivalry hastened to the rescue of Constantinople and the Cross. Semendria, called Smederovo by the Serbs, once the residence of George Brankoviç, who fought for freedom by the side of Hunyadi Janos. This old Roman castle, strengthened by the Servian champion, Semendria, throws the reflections of its ruined battlements on to the waters of swift-flowing Danube.
Some way further down the river yet another castle rises sheer above the banks where the mountains close in on either side to form the Pass of Kazan. The Danube narrows down to one-third its width on entering here, it swirls round the base of a steep promontory from which the broken towers of Golubaç seem to grow as out of the living rock. Crumbling walls and towers, turrets tottering on the brink of a precipice above the swirling waters, such is Golubaç, the castle built by Vuk Brancoviç to guard the entrance to the Pass of Kazan. An important place, too, in its time, for it controlled the road hewn by Trajan’s orders out of the rock through this pass to the Iron Gates connecting Dacia Trajana with Moesia Superior.
For centuries these monuments to Servia’s former greatness stood awaiting the rise of Servia rejuvenated, Golubaç tumbling into ruins, the road it guarded falling into neglect, Semendria a stronghold of the Osmanli. But during these centuries the Serbs lost neither faith nor language nor hope of freedom. Songs and epics kept fresh the memories of former days, while the Serbs went about their daily business, tilling the soil, watching their herds of swine, living in close family union despite the storms that tore over their land as the hosts of Othman pressed westward and towards the north into Hungary, up to Vienna, or returned flushed with victory or savage because of some defeat.
Help came at last, though slowly, and from the side of Hungary as it had done three centuries before.