Of the customs of the country there are many which are quaint and singular, especially among the peasant population, but only a few of the more common ones will bear description.
In the Servian orthodox church there are a hundred and eighty feast days in the year, the continued observance of which places business in a state of chaos. Divorce is easily obtained, and for the slightest cause, through the ecclesiastical tribunals, and it carries with it no social disgrace; but to wed a cousin, no matter how distant, is attended with absolute ostracism.
Instead of bride’s-maids at a wedding the Servians employ two kums, or godfathers, each of whom is compelled by custom to give the bride a dress-length of silk. A particularly significant honour is bestowed upon the dever, who acts in the capacity of the best man at the marriage ceremony. He carries a bouquet, wears a white sash and other ludicrous regalia, and for no reason whatever must he leave the bride for an instant throughout the day of the wedding.
As a general rule the wife is older than the husband and the bridegroom’s relatives have preference over those of the bride. The bride herself is regarded as little more than a household slave.
Each regiment of the army, like each Servian family, revels in the protection of a patron saint, and the celebration of the slava, or patron saint’s day, of a regiment is the only occasion of the year upon which all ranks of the army are considered socially equal. In the family the slava usually takes place upon the anniversary of that family’s conversion to Christianity, and on that day it is the custom to call upon one’s friends whose slava it is.
THE PRISHTINA COSTUME, WORN BY SERVIAN WOMEN ON FEAST DAYS.
Characteristic of every Slavonic nation is its national dance, and the Servians, not to be outdone in this respect by their cousins, boast of what they call the “Kola,” an extremely picturesque variety of the terpsichorean art, partly adapted from the Russian and partly invented by themselves. This “Kola” is danced upon the least provocation, and at every function. It matters little where they may be; in the streets of Belgrade or tending their flocks in the fields, if a group of Servians feel a “Kola” coming on they must give vent to their enthusiasm. It is danced upon the field of battle by the soldiers, and the King leads it at every state ball. At first sight it seems ridiculous, almost childish, and especially so when danced at one of the royal functions where gray-whiskered diplomats of all nations, high officials of state in uniform and be-jewelled leaders of Servian society trail like a kaleidoscopic serpent in the wake of the King, as he twists and turns up and down the polished floor of the great ball-room in the palace. But it seems to wax more and more fascinating and impressive the more often one sees it danced.
I was returning by carriage one warm, humid afternoon, from the cool environs of Topchidere Park, when I noticed a regiment of Servian soldiery drilling on the parade ground near one of the barracks. Suddenly the order to stack arms was given. Two of the privates rushed with all possible speed to the barracks and returned with a couple of violins. As they commenced the typical Slavonic music of the “Kola” the nine hundred and more officers and men linked arms and, forming one long line of white coats and caps, blue breeches and black boots, went through the mystic mazes of the national Servian dance with much precision, no little amount of gusto and a great deal of effervescent enthusiasm. As I witnessed this “Kola” it was nothing if not an inspiring sight.