The Balkan Trail

by Frederick Ferdinand Moore

At the barred door of a prison ward, through which we could see bandaged men, we were told, for variety, that this was the ‘accident’ ward. We inquired what comprised accidents.

‘Some fell out of trees, others amputated their own arms while cutting wood.’ This deviceful M.D. was indeed worthy of the Sultan’s service.

Towards the close of the revolution a Turkish proclamation addressed to the peasants in the mountains was placarded throughout the vilayet. It read, in true Ottoman fashion, in part as follows:

TURKS ON THE MARCH.

‘There is no need to mention how much his Imperial Majesty the Padisha, our benefactor and enlightened master, desires the prosperity of the country and the welfare of all his subjects without exception, sacrificing sleep and quiet day and night, thinking how to perfect his lofty purposes, and therefore commands the execution of certain benefits. Everywhere courts are approved and established for the preservation of the rights of the people; for the guarding of faithful subjects and the execution of the laws bodies of police and gendarmes are enlisted; for the saving of life and property guards are appointed; for the spreading of education schools are opened; roads and bridges are constructed for the people to carry food and merchandise; as also are begun everywhere various other needed benefits, and for this end part of the local income is apportioned.’

(‘I have the honour to transmit herewith a translation of the proclamation to the Bulgarians,’ ran the official report of the British Consul covering this document. ‘The list of reforms accomplished is purely illusory!’)

‘But some evil-minded ones,’ continued the proclamation, ‘not wishing the people to be benefited by these favours, and regarding only their own selfish interest, deceive the inhabitants and commit various repulsive transgressions. There is not the least ground for the lies and assurances with which the Bulgarians are deceived. All the civilised people of Europe and elsewhere regard with horror their deeds, which destroy the peace of the land, and everywhere—with great impatience—the suppression of these enemies to peace and order is awaited. The Imperial Government observes with sorrow that many people still rebel notwithstanding that until now, because of its great mercy, it has proceeded with marked clemency toward the agitators. But since the Government cannot coolly see the order of the country destroyed and the peaceful population subjected to murders and other evils, it categorically orders the commanders of the troops, wherever they are sent, to disperse and kill most severely the disturbers and their followers who still remain in rebellion. Therefore, for the last time, the Bulgarians who have been deceived and have left their fireside and their trades are invited to return to their homes and villages, and those who do not return and run towards the mercy of the Imperial Government will be punished and destroyed in the severest fashion.’[10]

The rebels did not run toward the mercy of the Imperial Government, but many of them, because of their privations with the bands and the approach of winter, began to return from the mountains to their homes or the sites of them, seeking on all occasions to avoid the Turkish troops. I heard an account of how in one instance a party of some forty men and a hundred women and children received a message from a detachment of the army promising them safety if they would return to their village, and with this specific assurance they ventured back. They were met on the way by the Turks, and the men were manacled and marched away towards Florina, where, the Turks said, their names would be recorded and they would then be set free. About half-way to town they met a larger body of soldiers, commanded by a superior officer, who demanded why Bulgarians had been made prisoners. No adequate reply forthcoming, the ranking man gave orders that the peasants should be put to death forthwith. The troops set upon the handcuffed men, slew them, and decapitated their bodies. The headless bodies, so the story goes, were thrown into the stream. What became of the heads none could say.

(A photographer at Monastir has, in former years, taken many pictures of Turkish soldiers and officers standing behind tables on which were laid the battered heads of Bulgarians and other ‘brigands.’ But heads are no longer brought into Monastir, and the photographer has been forbidden to display all pictures of this nature. I was able, however, to procure some.)