We flatter ourselves that this harangue was not without its effect on our audience, who mostly understood German; but the minions of the law must obey, and the police ushered us into a wretched cell some seven feet by ten, quite dark, with a daïs of bare boards to sleep on. We were allowed neither light, nor straw, nor water; and when we asked for food—for we were very hungry, having tasted nothing since noon, and it being now dusk—that was also refused, till we offered a bribe to the officer, who then saw the matter in quite a different light. He then left the dungeon, the iron bolt grated in the lock, and we prepared to shift for the night as best we might. Outside we heard a voice of weeping, proceeding apparently from a woman and a child, as if touched at our sad fate—though L⸺ preferred to believe that the sobs were due to the prospective annihilation of the Commissär. Had our sympathisers listened, they would have heard a sound of chuckling within, which might have been a considerable relief to their feelings.
Yet, we had not dined.
But our threats had begun to work on the official mind of Brood, and, as it afterwards turned out, they were seconded by no less an advocate than the leader of the National party in the Croatian Diet, Dr. Makanec, who, fired with that enthusiasm for the cause of freedom which shortly after led him to secede with his party from a bureaucratic assembly, made such representations to the Mayor on the outrageous conduct of the Commissär, and its probable consequences, as moved his worship to immediate action.
Thus it was, that we had not been in durance vile half-an-hour when hurried footsteps were heard in the court. The door of our cell was thrown open, and the Stadthauptmann was before us, bowing and scraping, and entreating us with the most profuse apologies to step out. He protested that it was an unfortunate misunderstanding, and as he had not offended us we were the more ready to grant him pardon, and permitted ourselves to be escorted in triumph by his whole posse comitatus down the street, his worship affecting the most polite interest in our tour.
Thus we returned victoriously to our inn, where we were met by our host, who had been expecting us for dinner for some time, with the expressive question ‘Eingesperrt?’ (‘Locked up?’) ‘Eingesperrt!’ said I. ‘So was my waiter a day or two ago,’ continued our host. ‘What for?’ we demanded. ‘Ah! that I cannot tell you.’ ‘The fellow ought to be shot!’ chimed in the aggrieved waiter. It appeared that the Commissär was a petty tyrant in the place, and our successful stand against his insolence created everywhere in Brood the liveliest sensations of delight. But why should the Brooders have left it to stray Englishmen to beard their despot? and which is the viler, the people who knock under to such arbitrary treatment, or the government which delegates to its officials the license to abuse the personal liberties of its subjects? This is not the first time that, for an equally paltry charge, I have seen the inside of an Austro-Hungarian prison. The free life of the great cities of the empire deceives those foreigners whose observations have been confined to the Prater; what ought to be realised is, that while London in a sense extends all over England, Pest and Vienna are bounded by their suburbs. The truth is, that the Metternichian régime has not died out entirely in the country districts. But when, as I believe was the case in this instance, the traditions of the ‘Police-State’ are followed out by Magyar—or at least Magyarizing—officials, there is less excuse for such conduct, and the Hungarians should be warned that, by setting up an alien and oppressive bureaucracy in their Sclavonic Provinces they are not likely to retain the high opinion which their noble stand against similar tyranny has won for them among Englishmen.
Head of Sclavonian.
CHAPTER III.
THROUGH THE BOSNIAN POSSÁVINA AND USSORA.
Insurrectionary Agitation among Southern Sclaves—Proclamation of the Pashà of Bosnia—We land in Turkish Brood—Moslem Children—Interview with the Mudìr—Behaviour of our Zaptieh—Peasants of Greek Church—How these Christians love one another—Arrive at Dervent—Interview with Pashà of Banjaluka—Hajduks’ Graves—Rayah Hovel—Difficulty with our Host—Doboj; its old Castle and Historical Associations—A South Sclavonic Patriot—First Mountain Panorama—The ‘Old Stones,’ a prehistoric Monument—Tešanj: its old Castle and History—‘Une Petite Guerre’—Latin Quarter of Tešanj—Soused by an old Woman—Influence of Oriental Superstitions on Bosnian Rayahs—Argument with the Kaïmakàm—Excusable Suspicions.