The Slav Nations

PART I.—THE NORTHERN SLAVS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
THE SLAV RACE		11
	Slav Characteristics—Slav Power in the Past—The Decline—The Dawn?
CHAPTER II.
RUSSIA		20
I.	Russian Landscape and the National Character—Rurik to Peter the Great—German Influence—The Russian Awakening.
II.	Siberia—White Russians—Little Russians—Great Russians—Cossacks—The People of the Sunflower—Made in Germany—The Reaction.
CHAPTER III.
RUSSIAN NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS		37
	Russian Slavdom—The Mir—Stress and Famine—The Duma—Russian Literature—Gogol—Tolstoi—Dostoievski—Realistic Ideals—The Russian Soul.
CHAPTER IV.
POLAND AND BOHEMIA		50
I.	The Contrast—National Character of the Poles—Our Lady of Csenstochova—Dancing Peasants—Galician Poles—Selfish Policy—Austria a Slav State.
II.	The Poles in Russia—Russia’s Repressive Measures—The Slav Ideal—A Better Understanding—The Poles in Prussia—The Iron Heel—Law of Expropriation.
III.	Csech Characteristics—Professor Masaryk—Jan Huss—Slav Puritans—The Hradčin—Modern Politics.
PART II.—THE SOUTHERN SLAVS.vi
CHAPTER V.
BULGARIA		77
	Country and People—The Building up of the Bulgarian State—Relations with Russia—German Influence—Alexander of Battenberg—King Ferdinand—Bulgaria’s Immediate Duty.
CHAPTER VI.
SERBIA		98
I.	Serbian Self-reliance—Characteristics of the Serb People—The power of the Folk song—Race-consciousness.
II.	History of the Southern Slavs.
III.	The Birth of a Nation—Prince Miloš—“The Great Sower”—Alexander Karagjorgjević—Michael Obrenović—King Milan—Fall of the Obrenović Dynasty—King Peter—The Restoration of Serbia’s Prestige.
IV.	Serbia and Austria—A Campaign of Calumny—Annexation of Bosnia-Hercegovina—The Balkan Wars—Serbia Rehabilitated—The Tragedy of Sarajevo.
CHAPTER VII.
MONTENEGRO		129
	The Country of the Black Mountain—Women Warriors—King, Poet and Farmer—Historical Sketch of Montenegro—Petar I., Petrović—Petar II.—Pro-Russian Policy—A Royal Poet—Nikola I.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SOUTHERN SLAVS OF THE DUAL MONARCHY		138
I.	A Homogeneous People—A Militant Past—The Bogumili—National Bondage—Napoleon—Illyrism—Agreement with Hungary—Count Khuen-Hedervary.
II.	The Greatest Representative of the Southern Slavs—Strossmayer’s Generosity and courage—Fall of Count Khuen-Hedervary—Death of Strossmayer.
III.	False Dawn—Conference of Fiume—Ban Paul Rauch—Monster Trial in Zagreb—The Friedjung Case—Cuvaj—Frano Supilo.
IV.	Dalmatia, Istria, Carniola—The Italian Element—Bosnia—Hercegovina—Conclusion.
EPILOGUE.
“BURIED TREASURES” by Dimitrii Mitrinović		178

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The task of writing a book on the subject of the Slav nations has afforded me very great pleasure, and I hope my work will succeed in its object and arouse the sympathies of the British public for my race. In preference to giving long disquisitions, I have purposely adopted a simple narrative tone in sketching some of the most interesting points in the national life of the Slav peoples. I have only touched upon historical events in so far as this was necessary for the context, and owing to lack of space I have been unable to do more than allude to Slav art and literature. On the other hand, a good deal of valuable information on this subject will be found in the epilogue “Buried Treasures,” which the eminent Serbo-Croat essayist, Mr. Dimitrij Mitrinović has kindly placed at my disposal.

As I am at present completely cut off from my sorely-stricken country, I have been unable to apply for permission to quote from certain books that I have consulted, but I feel sure that my literary colleagues, Dr. Dragutin Prohaska, Niko Županić and Dr. Gjuro Šurmin, will not object to my having had recourse to their works in the interests of our race.

I am also indebted to Mr. Frano Supilo, the leader to the Croatian people, as well as to my above-mentioned friend, Mr. Dimitrij Mitrinovič; of the Serbian Legation in London, for several valuable hints.

My special thanks are due to my translator, Mme. Fanny S. Copeland, and Miss Ella C. Seyfang, who have given me invaluable assistance in my work.

London,   November, 1914.

The Author.

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THE SLAV NATIONS.

Slav Characteristics—Slav Power in the Past—The Decline—The Dawn?

Although the Slav race does not appear as a united state or Union, it certainly forms a family of nations linked by ties of blood, the tradition of centuries, similar language and customs, and especially by ties of mutual love and sympathy. It is the greatest and most powerful of the European races, yet to this day it does not hold the pride of place which is its due and which it once held. Not the precedence of mere strength, which is surely sufficiently represented by Russia, but the place due to a people of recognized culture, who have not yet been justly appreciated in spite of overwhelming proof of their intellectual gifts. Slavs are still popularly supposed to be a mentally undeveloped host of semi-barbarians and troglodytes. Of course the educated public of Europe has long12 abandoned this attitude; but it has done little to spread a more just and liberal view among the people at large.1 The German scholars made it their business to lay stress on “Slav barbarism” wherever possible, to obscure the bright and glorious pages in Slav history, and to emphasize everything that can be taken as a proof of savagery and arrested development. Unfortunately, no one has written at such length about the Slav question, or attached so much importance to it, as the German scholars, with the result that other European nations have derived their views from them—so much so that one might almost say that German opinion on the Slavs has become the opinion of Europe. Constant unrest in Russia, and the consequent reprisals of the authorities afforded a welcome pretext for misjudging the Slavs, and the ordinary public of Europe came to know of them only as mediæval inquisitors with Siberia as their great torture-chamber. No one seemed to realize that these revolutionary movements,13 no less than the insurrections in other Slav countries, merely represented the resistance of a virile people craving enlightenment against autocratic barbarism; and that it is obviously unfair to judge the Slavs by the deeds of their oppressors, who in every case have followed the German methods cultivated by their governments in most Slav countries, and imported into Russia by Peter the Great. On the other hand, if the Slav nations are judged by the soul of the people, and not by their rulers and state-systems, they show a high standard of civilization and a trend towards culture of a kindly, humanitarian type, which promises to be a far better contribution to Western European progress than the much-advertised German “Kultur.”

Certainly the Slavs have not yet attained to their full stature as a race. At present they are passing through a period of strong ferment, but the wine that has so far resulted from this ferment gives excellent ground for the hope that when the Slavs have solved their various national and economic problems they will prove themselves the equals of the other cultured nations of the world.

In the world of politics they must attain the degree of power necessary to safeguard their racial individuality and the freedom of the Slav peoples. This power must stand in due proportion to their capability for intellectual progress, and should in itself be a guarantee for the peace of the world in the future. For the Slav is not naturally domineering, and has no craving for power as a mere means of aggression. He belongs to a kindly race, melancholy, as shown in the national poetry in which his soul finds expression. He has a craving to love and to be loved, and would fain join the other European nations as a friend and brother. His strength will be the strength of love. Russia has neither need nor desire to extend her boundaries further. The Balkan Slavs only wish to accomplish their own destiny quietly within the borders of the Slav Sphere, and the rest of the Slavs desire their freedom—only their freedom. And when this is accomplished, the Slav Colossus will no longer constitute a danger to Europe, but a safeguard. His political power will only threaten those who would tamper with the foundations of peace from mere lust of dominion.

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In the present crisis the Slav race is by no means seeking a return to the past. The past has seen the Slavs masters of a great empire and a real menace to the rest of the world. If one were to take the political map of Europe and indicate upon it the frontiers of the ancient Slav Empire, the Slav race would appear like an irresistible deluge. The huge Muscovite Empire, almost the whole of Austria-Hungary, the whole of the Balkans, two-thirds of the German Empire, part of Italy, and a large part of Scandinavia—all these once formed the Slav Empire. Historical maps show the single triumphant word “Slavs” (“famous” or “glorious” ones) inscribed over all these countries throughout the centuries. Their history and development can be traced back to 400 B.C.

The Taurians that guarded the Golden Fleece were Slavs, as were the men of the Baltic with whom Phœnicians and Greeks traded for amber. The forest lands of the North, that grey home of magic, wisdom and valour, hang like a dark background full of strange possibilities behind sunny Greece and clear-headed, practical Rome—and this was the Empire of the Slavs in the past, the Gardariki and Iotunheim (Giant-land) of the Norsemen. From one century to another they played a part of increasing importance among the peoples of Central and Eastern Europe and were feared as a strong, homogeneous race. Their power reached its zenith towards the end of the fifth century, before the tidal wave of the Hun invasion swept over Europe. At that time they held the mastery from the Alps to the mouth of the Elbe, and from the Baltic to the Black Sea. They were then one great people divided into several tribes speaking slightly differing dialects; but only a fraction of their number—the inhabitants of the present Dalmatia—was subject to the Emperor Nepos. The invasion of the Avars, who took possession of a large strip of the Slav possessions between the Danube and the Dniester, made the first breach in the unity of the great Slav family. Henceforth they were known as Northern, Eastern, and Southern, Slavs, and began to form separate nationalities. In the age of Charlemagne these nationalities had already crystallized into independent states, whose power and prosperity are recorded in history. The strongest of these was eventually Poland, extending far into the Russia of to-day. The Moravian Empire of Svatopluk, the Empire of Serbia, the kingdom of Croatia, and the Slavicized Bulgars in the South, together with the Grand-Dukedom of Muscovy (and the Wendish kingdom in North Germany), complete the family of Slav States. It would take too long to enter into the historical importance of all these states, but it is a characteristic proof of their power that not only European, but Asiatic, nations courted their favour.

Some of the main trade routes of the world led from Northern Europe through the heart of Russia to Byzantium (the “Mikligard” of the Sagas)—and Asia. Slav, Norwegian, Tatar and Arab traded peacefully together on the banks of the Volga, and sundry passages in the Norse Sagas as well as the journal of an Arab trader give us vivid glimpses of those days. Somehow these searchlight pictures of the Slavs and their country, recorded with positively journalistic freshness and love of detail, do not corroborate the biassed accounts of German historians. But this world-power which Russia alone has developed steadily up to the present day began to wane among the other Slav nations soon after the first Crusade (1097). Already in 1204 (the fourth Crusade) Slavonia, Croatia, Dalmatia and Bosnia were incorporated in the German (Holy Roman) Empire, together with Hungary, Istria, Carniola and Carinthia. Under the Hohenstaufens, Bohemia and Moravia also became vassal states, and in the fourteenth century the victorious Osmanlis robbed the Bulgars and Serbs of their independence. With the exception of Russia, Poland alone maintained her independence, until the first partition in 1772, followed by the second in 1793. The third and last partition in 1795 sealed her fate, and the Poles were parcelled out under Russian, Prussian and Austrian rule.

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The partition of Poland was the beginning of the complete political, and to some extent even the national, decay of the non-Russian Slavs. Just as Russia began to spread her mighty pinions, the Slavs under alien yoke fell deeper and deeper into an apathy of gloom, only broken from time to time by rare flashes of patriotism, or a tempest of revolt. The book of history lay open before them with its pages of gold and black; but to their aching eyes the black ever loomed larger than the gold, and they yielded to a despondency that knew no comfort and saw no escape. And, while they were thus sunk in apathy, their rulers brought strong pressure to bear on them, so that they might eradicate the stamp of their nationality, not only from their faces, but from their souls. Germany and Austria scented the Eastern question, and divined that in its solution the Slavs might renew their strength. So they determined to approach the problem supported by a totally emasculated and denationalized Slav following. To this end they strove above all things to turn the Slavs into docile citizens of a Germanic Empire; for from the days of Charlemagne the German has reiterated the parrot-cry that the Slav is barbarous, obstinate, dangerous and ugly, and that his only chance of salvation lies in merging his identity with that of the German of the Empire. It is a fact that during this period the Slavs did nothing to help themselves. A great weariness weighed upon the people, no less than upon the educated classes, and they were preparing to reconcile themselves to the fate that had already befallen their brothers, the Serbs and Bulgars. But the progress of history did for the Slavs what they failed to do for themselves. Napoleon, the personification of destruction for the whole of Europe, brought salvation to the Western Slavs, for he re-awakened them to a sense of national self-consciousness, and so prepared the way for the long and bitter struggle they have waged since then against their oppressors. As soon as these struggles commenced Russia, who had hitherto regarded the ruin of her brothers with equanimity, began to take an interest in their sufferings, and to afford them strong moral support.

These struggles, however, could not bring immediate relief. The Slavs knew full well that the way to freedom is long and has to be won step by step. The problem of the Near East, which advanced one stage with the liberation of Serbia, must first be solved in every phase and detail to clear the way for a solution of the purely Slav problem. Europe cannot take a vital interest in this problem before the Balkan problem is disposed of, and the conditions for the liberation of the Slavs so far fulfilled, that the difficulty can be solved in the ordinary course of the progress of civilization.

The psychological moment seems to have arrived, and the Slav question deserves to be fully put forward. Surely the British public, which has entered into the present crisis with such splendid spirit, will not withhold its interest from the Slav question, more especially as England will have a strong voice in the matter when the final settlement comes to be made.

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I. Russian Landscape and the National Character—Rurik to Peter the Great—German Influence—The Russian Awakening.

II. Siberia—White Russians—Little Russians—Great Russians—Cossacks—The People of the Sunflower—Made in Germany—The Reaction.

Roughly speaking, there are 172 million Slavs in the world. The Russians alone number about 110 millions, and these millions occupy a vast country reaching from the snows of the far North, to lands where the orange-trees bloom all the year round. The Russian holds that his dear “little mother Russia” is the most beautiful land of all the earth. The mountain fastnesses and precipices of the Urals, the green slopes of the Caucasus, the Siberian wastes, the grey shores of the Baltic and the sunny shores of the Euxine—the Volga and the Don, and even the sacred steppes—to him they are all beautiful, to him they reflect the image of his soul and his feelings. The Western traveller will find some difficulty in understanding this passionate love of the Russian for his country, and will feel21 tempted to draw sharp comparisons between the degrees of beauty in the various districts. But the landscape of Russia is as peculiar as the Russian people. It is as Russian as the Russian himself. There is probably not another country in the world where the climatic and geological conditions have so deeply influenced the inmost character of the people, even to their external features. Where the landscape is beautiful and the climate sunny, the handsome noble Russian type prevails; whereas the cold, inhospitable tracts produce the characteristic wide-faced, flat-nosed type. Yet there is a strange resemblance between the rough type and the handsome type analogous to that which a careful observer cannot fail to notice between the different types of Russian landscape. For though the steppe is grey, and the fields of Caucasia are green, yet both are animated by something that wears the same countenance, breathes the same purely Russian atmosphere, and is suffused with the same wonderful charm. It is the charm of perfectly balanced contrast. The soil of Russia has a soul like the soul of her children, for whom she cares and lives and breathes. This soul appears everywhere the same; it exhales the same perfume from the dry grass of the steppe as from the Crimean groves of syringa.

The Russian soil is fertile, inexhaustively fertile, as if it were conscious of the millions dependent upon it. Metaphorically speaking, this soil produces its gifts out of itself, and offers them lavishly to its children. The Russian never works more than he is obliged to—he need not wrestle with the soil, he need only not forget it. But he tills it with love; he does not force the gifts of Nature, he coaxes them from her, and where these fruits do not appear on the surface, he seeks them in the heart of the earth, and goes down the coal-shafts and lead-mines with the same serene confidence with which he ploughs the sunlit surface. Is he not still with his “little mother”?

The Russian is a farmer by nature. The great industrial developments of the last decades have resulted automatically from the natural wealth of the country, but the true Russian reaps little benefit from this industrial boom. His commercial gifts are not great, and he has been content to leave the business exploitation of the country in the hands of foreigners, so long as he makes his own little profit. Mills and factories are “German monsters” in his eyes, and he prefers to give them a wide berth. But latterly there has been a great agitation in favour of the resuscitation of all home industries. The Russian has grasped the fact that his policy of sentiment in business will have to be modified to suit modern times, and that the welfare of the people must not be dependent on foreign middle-men. The present great conflict with the Germans, who have hitherto so largely monopolised Russian industry, will doubtless do much to further this movement towards industrial emancipation.

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The History of Russia begins practically with Rurik (862) who is supposed to have come from Scandinavia and laid the foundations of a Russian state.2 At the coming of Rurik the Russians were split up into many separate communities under independent chiefs. Rurik introduced a new spirit of united organization, and all efforts towards establishing a Russian Empire date from him. Of course it was inevitable that this founding of an Empire should involve much opposition, revolt, war, and bloodshed. Each district was proud and jealous of its independence, and only yielded after a hard and bitter struggle. During the period of Empire-making Russian history abounds in such bloody episodes. The Grand-Dukedom of Muscovy was the largest of the Russian petty States and in every way the best equipped, so that the task of organization naturally devolved upon it, together with the fruits of victory. Six centuries of ceaseless struggle against foes from without and within bring us from Rurik’s day to the accession of Ivan Vassilievitch III. (1462-1505), who is regarded as the founder of Russian Tsardom. He incorporated the still independent principalities of Twer, Moshnik, and Vologda with the Grand-Dukedom of Muscovy, defeated the powerful Republic of Novgorod, and freed himself completely from the Tatar yoke (1480). In 1472 he married Zoë, a daughter of Thomas Palaeologus, the brother of the last Byzantine Emperor. European customs were first brought into Russia through this princess, and the double-headed eagle of Byzantium introduced in the Russian coat of arms. The celebrated Uspenskij and Blagoveshchenski Cathedrals in Moskva were built in the reign of Ivan Vassilievitch III. He promulgated a decree pronouncing the realm henceforth united and undivisible by law, and was the first Russian ruler to assume the title of “Tsar of all the Russias.” Christianity, introduced by St. Vladimir (980-1054), had by this time fully blossomed forth as the national religion, so that we can date the foundation of “Holy Russia” of to-day in all her greatness from the age of Ivan Vassilievitch III.

During the following ages the power of Tsardom increased and finally reached its zenith with Peter the Great, who may be called the first of the modern Russian Tsars. He applied his own acquired Western knowledge to Russia, and enormously improved the general status of the realm. In his reign Russia began to play her part as a political and military power, for it was he who founded the Russian navy and mercantile marine. He was a ruthless autocrat, and many pages of his reign are traced in blood; yet with him autocracy was not so much a matter of sentiment as of dire necessity. He loved his Russian people passionately, but said that it was a people who had to be made great by force. Confident in the inalienable national character he saw no danger in importing foreigners wholesale to help in the building up of Russian administration. He surrounded himself with German advisers, appointed Germans to responsible offices, and freely admitted the German element into Russia as a means of spreading “culture.” In many ways German thoroughness proved a most useful asset in carrying out the Tsar’s intentions. On the other hand it gave rise to a dynasty and an autocratic aristocracy of foreign stock who failed to understand the Russian people, and whose influence proved disastrous to civilization and intellectual freedom in Russia. Outwardly, Russia became a world-power under Peter the Great, but internally it fell a prey to a system of spiritual slavery, which has been perpetuated even to recent years by the successors of Peter and their councillors, the descendants of German immigrants. Here lies the true cause of the revolutionary movement of more than a century. The last three Tsars of Russia—the two Alexanders and the present Tsar—have taken steps to eliminate the great evil, and if, so far, they have only been partially successful, the fault lies not with them nor with the Russian people, but with the still German mind of their advisers. The abolition of serfdom, repeated constitutional manifestos and the introduction of the Duma system are momentous steps towards a brighter future. But the gate to this future can only be fully opened with the conclusion of the present war.

Although Russia has acquired millions of non-Russian subjects—chiefly through the Crimea, Bessarabia and her Asiatic possessions—she has never lost her purely Russian character. The laws concerning land purchase are so constituted that the territories belonging to the heart of Russia cannot to any great extent pass into non-Russian hands, which accounts for the fact that these parts of the Empire have remained essentially Russian. Siberia holds an exceptional position, and is to-day a great colonial province with a mixed population. Every year the wealth and fertility of Siberia become more and more apparent, and instead of being bleak and uninhabited, this country is now distinctly populous. The horrors of Siberia as a penal colony are becoming a thing of the past, and only the perpetrators of grave crimes are still condemned to labour in the lead-mines and languish in the Katorga (penal servitude). Convicts who are simply exiled to Siberia are able to earn a comfortable livelihood under tolerable conditions—apart from the loss of liberty and vexatious police supervision. Thus it often happens that time-expired convicts prefer to remain in Siberia, and eventually find not only a home but prosperity in the new country.

Siberia, the Crimea and Bessarabia are all three interesting as countries and as Russian territories, but in a sketch of the Russian people they are unimportant. The true Russian stock falls into three great bodies, the “Bielorussi” (White Russians), the “Velikorussi” (Great Russians) and the “Malorussi” (Little Russians). They represent the North, the Centre and the South of Russia. Ethnologically, economically, and intellectually the White Russians represent the lowest type. They inhabit the Northern tracts from the borders of Poland, ancient Lithuania, and Novgorod. The governments of Minsk, Litav, and Smaljensk are their central provinces. Theirs is a poverty-stricken and, one might add, a slothful Russia. Agricultural facilities are limited, the soil is not very fertile, and the White Russian is not sufficiently industrious or persevering to improve it by rational farming. The people are more apathetic than elsewhere in Russia, and less inclined to adopt modern ideas with enthusiasm. These people become nervous and excitable only when menaced by a dearth of food; then their attitude is often much more dangerous than the tide of social revolution. At least the White Russian has kept his type fairly pure and in spite of alien neighbours he shows little trace of racial admixture.

The Little Russians, who inhabit the entire South of Russia, and from whose stock the famous Cossacks are sprung, differ most radically from their northern brothers. They are the excitable, hot-blooded, dare-devil Russians. In type the men are fine-looking and handsome almost without exception, and the women often exceedingly beautiful. Their language differs from other Russian speech by the extreme softness of the dialect (which is not unlike Serbo-Croatian), and their music and poetry are the finest in the Slav race. In the past the Little Russians were divided into many small and independent clans who outvied each other in reckless warlike enterprises. Of course the wonderful Cossacks always took the lead. They still occupy their original home on the Don and in Caucasia, and furnish the élite of the Russian Army, even as they once were the flower of the Little Russian tribes. Moreover, they preserved to the very last their freedom and their privileges in Russia. To-day one is accustomed to look upon the Cossacks as merely a body of men especially devoted to the Tsar, but, as a matter of fact, the Cossack people have had a most chequered and interesting past. Once they formed an independent warrior-nation, feared and courted by their neighbours; and so secure in their strength did they feel, that they even dared to answer the Turkish Sultan’s demand for submission with a letter of taunting derision (the well-known Cossack Ultimatum). They played a great part in the history of Russia, and each Russian ruler in turn endeavoured to assure himself of their support. After their final subjection to Russia (1851) the Cossacks gradually exchanged their political importance for their present military value. Tolstoi wrote about them as follows—though his remarks really apply to the whole of the Little Russian people: “Many years ago the ancestors of the Cossacks, who were ‘Old Believers,’ fled from Russia and settled on the banks of the Terek (Caucasus). They are a handsome, prosperous and warlike Russian population, who still retain the faith of their fathers. Dwelling among the Chechentzes, the Cossacks intermarried with them and acquired the usages, customs and mode of living of these mountaineers. But their Russian tongue and their ancient faith they preserved in all their pristine purity.... To this day the kinship between certain Cossack families and the Chechentzes is clearly recognizable and a love of freedom and idleness, a delight in raiding and warfare are their chief characteristics. Their love of display in dress is an imitation of the Circassians. The Cossack procures his admirable weapons from his mountaineer neighbours, and also buys or ‘lifts’ his best horses from them. All Cossacks are fond of boasting of their knowledge of the Tatar tongue. At the same time this small Christian people considers itself highly developed, and the Cossack only as a full human being. They despise all other nationalities.... Every Cossack has his own vineyard, and presses his own wine, and his immoderate drinking is not so much due to inclination as to sacred custom, to neglect which would be regarded as a kind of apostasy.... Women he looks upon as a means for promoting his prosperity. Only the young girls are allowed by him to enjoy any leisure: from a married woman he demands a life of drudgery from early youth to old age, and he is quite Oriental in expecting deference and hard work from his wife.... The Cossack who considers it unbefitting in the presence of strangers to exchange a kind or affectionate word with his wife involuntarily feels her superiority as soon as he is alone with her. For the whole of his house and farm are acquired through her and maintained by her labour and care....”

Between these extremes of Northern and Southern Russia, the Great Russian stands out like a beacon or an indestructible landmark. He represents the purest type of the Russian people, the children of “matyushfia Moskva.” Whatever Russia has produced in the way of true greatness in every sense of the words, has its cradle in Great Russia, and has been nursed at the breast of Mother Moskva. This truly Russian people inhabits the huge central tracts of Russia, and the governments of Moskva and Novgorod are their particular home. The Russian faith owes its beauty, the Russian ideal its purity to this people, and to the race they have given the All-Slav Ideal. And they are the only Russian people whose soul has two faces, an outer and an inner one. The Russian sculptor Tsukoff has symbolized them in a figure resembling a sunflower. It is as well to know that the Great Russian cannot live without sunflower-seeds. He calls them “podsolnushki.” Everything is smothered in “podsolnushki” shells—streets, floors of rooms and railway carriages, even the corners in the churches. Every Great Russian munches “podsolnushki,” and by temperament he himself is a “podsolnushki.” He has an outer shell and a kernel. In Russia the sunflower is queen of the flowers, and as the sunflower is among the flowers so is the Great Russian among the Russian peoples. He is the true “tsarkiya Rus.” The Tsar is the sun, the heart of the realm, and the Muscovite people are the “podsolnushki.” Each individual is only one among many, a particle, a seed for the propagation and glorification of his own race. Probably, the Great Russian has no equal in the world as regards idyllic simplicity. Not because he munches “podsolnushki,” crosses himself in tram-cars when passing a church, goes about in big boots in the heat of summer, and drinks vodka, wine and beer without regard to time or season, but because he is a true yeoman soul. He is quite indifferent to all that does not interest him personally. The surface of his soul is as hard and impervious as the shell of the sunflower seed. His face wears an imperturbable, changeless expression. To reach the kernel of his human soul one has to discard every formality, thrust aside every obstacle, and bite into it as if it were a sunflower seed. If you abuse him roundly and “have it out” with him, he suddenly shows himself in his true colours, the best and kindliest of souls; but if you handle him with kid gloves you will never get a glimpse of his inner nature. As an acquaintance the charm of the Great Russian consists chiefly in his sudden transition from sharp resistance to an unexpected exhibition of gentle, unaffected loveableness. The Great Russian has a strong natural talent for philosophy, but, metaphorically speaking, his philosophy is as vegetarian as his cooking has largely remained to this day. There is a scent of dried herbs, new-mown hay, and southern-wood about it; it recalls dark forests where the sunlight, piercing the rifts between the tree-tops, shines with golden-blue, unearthly splendour—a ray of the light Divine. His philosophy is innocent of blood like the saints of the old ikons.

This Great Russian people is the flower of Russia, the Sunflower, whose golden petals point the way for the future of the whole Russian nation.

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The problem of Russian culture has its roots in the Russian people, and not in the educated classes. The desire for culture has emanated from the people themselves, and the spirit they evinced has pointed the way for the educated classes in the great struggle for national culture within recent years. The educated man is the interpreter of the popular demand for culture, and of the intellectual wealth dwelling in the soul and mind of the Russian people. Almost the whole of Russian art and literature is derived from this source, and it has never shown the world so much the genius of the poet, painter, or the sculptor in question, as the genius of the Russian people that produced him; and the best that is revealed in Russian art is the face of the Russian soul with its manifold aspects of thinker, philosopher, and purely human being. Dostoievski, Tolstoi, Gogol, Gontsharoff, Tshekhoff, Gorki and Andreeff in poetry; Repin, Vasnetsoff, Tsukoff, Troubetzkoy and many others in the pictorial arts;—all have learnt what they had to tell from the soul of the people and the wisdom of this soul; and the Great Russian musicians have used the voice of the people throughout for the expression of their art. They are all of them merely interpreters of the rich fund of culture, the latent culture of the Russian people. This latent culture, in conjunction with the holy Russian faith, has advanced towards the highest development of human dignity and nobility, towards peace founded not upon blood, but upon love. The abuse the Germans have heaped upon Russian barbarism is merely the outcome of envious rage on the part of an inferior, who sees his artificial pseudo-culture endangered by another culture which blossoms from the depths of the human heart.

The non-Russian Slavs stood for a long time under the influence of German culture. With their characteristic aggressiveness the Germans represented their culture as the high-water mark of civilization and inculcated it everywhere with the same violence which at present distinguishes the advance of their invading hordes. Even nations possessing a peerless millennial culture, like the French and Italians, have found it difficult to escape their influence. But a sham must inevitably die of its own exposure. Every people, every nation has its own peculiar susceptibility, a kind of instinctive taste, which refuses to tolerate anything that does not appeal to its soul, and could act destructively upon it. The peoples of the West have for some time past boycotted the “Williamitic” culture, and only sundry isolated Slav peoples have admitted it—principally those who were practically dependent on Germany, and whose native culture was forcibly suppressed. The result was that a few years ago a non-Russian Slav knew his sentimental Schiller better than his Dante, Lenau better than his Pushkin, Kleist better than Shakespeare, and Gottfried Keller better than Dostoievski. In the Slav schools in Austria-Hungary the German language is obligatory as the official language (the other languages are to this day not permitted in the schools), German history is taught as the standard of national greatness and civilization and German literature and art as practically unique and unequalled. All that bore the hallmark “Made in Germany” was inculcated as ideal. Thus it was not at all strange that German culture has for a long time predominated among these Slavs. But the Slav instinct always hated this culture, though at first unconsciously, and sensed it as a false and treacherous enemy. Then Russia began her intellectual campaign among the Slavs. At first it was an uphill struggle, for the Government authorities placed every possible obstacle in the way of this propaganda. But when the Slav peoples realized that the Russian influence could only reach them as forbidden fruit, they began greatly to desire it. To the power of the State they opposed the power of their will and their instincts. This struggle is still in progress, but it has been uniformly successful in favour of the Russian influence. During the ’eighties the results of this influence began to show fruit, and since that time Slav intellectual and educational development has safely entered the fairway of Russian intellectualism. Art and literature have followed the lines laid down by Russia, and become more definitely Slavonic. The latent mental wealth and resources of the Slav nations have come to the surface and appear pure and unaffected and entirely free from German “angularity,” while their social problems betray a distinct kinship with the Russian social movement. In recent years this process of emancipation and affiliation has so far developed that it has entered the field of politics and materialized in the Russian protectorate over all the Slavs. This, however, required no propaganda—it arose out of itself, as will appear in the chapters dealing with the other Slav nations.

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Russian Slavdom—The Mir—Stress and Famine—The Duma—Russian Literature—Gogol, Tolstoi, Dostoievski—Realistic Ideals—The Russian Soul.

The eminent Russian publicist Menschikoff, in one of his works on Russian nationalism, writes the following: “In a world-wide sense only we Russians are Slavs and—unfortunately—so far no one else. The other Slav nationalities are so dismembered, so stupidly and artificially kept apart and hostile among themselves, that they scarcely count either politically or otherwise. The majority of the Outer Slav nations are still under the German, Hungarian or Turkish yoke, and at present they are quite unable to shake off this yoke. There are many reasons for the decline of the Western Slavs, but the principal one is the negative type of their character and the consequent tendency to dissensions and mutual jealousies.... Even as regards national culture, Russia—in spite of all her internal miseries—takes the lead among the Slav nations. In every respect she has the right to say: ‘I am Slavdom.38’”

The somewhat bitter tone adopted towards the other Slav nations in this dictum might easily be modified by an appeal to evidence, but, for all that, Menschikoff’s remarks are correct in essentials. The truth of his assertion as to the world-wide importance of the Russians and the relative unimportance of the other Slavs to-day must be freely admitted. And that is why a special interest attaches to the question of the Russian people. It is too early in the day to judge of the full significance of the Russians as a factor in the world’s development, for they have scarcely yet come into their own. The birth of the Russian people has been in progress for the last century. First the head appeared—Russian literature, and then slowly, deliberately, the giant body—the Russian people, who are gradually attaining to political and national self-consciousness.

Till 1861 the Russian people led an embryonic existence within the womb of Holy Mother Russia. A nobility of mixed Mongolian, German, British, French and even Negroid (Pushkin) stock ate, breathed and thought for the people. Most foreigners imagine that the Russian people were “emancipated” in 1861. But this emancipation was only partial, and more apparent than real; for though serfdom had been abolished, there still remained the heavier yoke of the “Mir”—a conservative, iron-bound institution, which has greatly hindered the development of the Russian people by restricting the liberty of the individual. Strictly speaking, the “Mir” was the village or parish, but in an economic sense it was the association of several families under one head. The Slavophil writers, Homiakoff and the brothers Kirieyevaki, with their followers down to Pobyedonszeff saw in the “Mir” a guarantee, not only for the welfare of Russia, but for all the world. They believed the “Mir” to be that economic communism and moral brotherhood which Western Social Democracy is vainly trying to discover in other ways. They held that the “Mir” was destined to assure the future of the Russian people and to afford it the means of solving all the social problems of the world in accordance with the laws of justice and of love. Russian literature is full of poems, treatises, and religious contemplations in praise of it. Even the greatest Russian minds, such as Dostoievski himself, were smitten with this idea. No “Western” doctrine was potent to disabuse the Russians of their fallacy. Nature herself had to come to the rescue, destroy the chimera and lead Russia back to the high road of common sense and progress.

It happened very simply. The periodic famine arose in Russia, and the vast Empire, the “granary of the world,” had no bread for millions of her honest, hard-working children. They could not understand how there could be a famine in a fertile, sparsely populated country, whilst the teeming populations of the Western countries had enough to eat. The starving Russian people argued that the famine was caused by an insufficiency of land, and that they had been cozened in 1861 when the land was divided up between the nobles and the peasants. The result was a growing ill-feeling against the ruling classes, to whom the peasantry still had to pay “redemption-dues” either in money or in kind. In accordance with ancient custom the “Mir” periodically divided the land among its members. Obviously, in many communities there was not enough land for each member. Result—Famine. The “Mir” was self-governing, and had the same powers over its members as formerly the lord of the soil. It exercised a paternal jurisdiction, punished with blows, or with banishment to Siberia, divided the land, collected taxes, issued travellers’ passes, and often made itself arbitrarily unpleasant. During the ’nineties it became increasingly evident that the “Mir” constituted a moral and material danger to the people. Poor harvests followed by famine were the bane of the people from 1871 till 1907 and even as lately as 1911.

Space forbids me to enter into the agrarian crises—questions of reform, experiments and reactions, which loom so large in the pages of modern Russian history. Suffice it to say that all this led up to the revolution in 1905, and that in consequence of this revolution the Government decided upon a step it might equally well have taken in 1861. In 1906 the Government decided partially to dissolve the “Mirs,” and by establishing freehold farm properties owned by individuals it created the yeoman farmer class with full civic rights. This reform which was only fully carried through in 1911, marks the beginning of a new political era for the Russian man of the people. It is still too soon to feel the consequences of this truly great reform to their full extent. The Russian peasant has scarcely got used to his new position of individual freedom, and has not yet learnt to give effect to his political and social will. There can be no question of a constitution so long as the “Muzhik” has not attained to the full stature of a citizen and agriculturist. In Russia we speak of a “first Duma,” a “second Duma,” a “third Duma,” whereas no one in the rest of Europe would speak of a “first,” “second,” or “third” Parliament, but simply of “the Parliament.” These “first,” “second,” “third” and now “fourth” Dumas are simply so many editions of one and the same Duma, with each edition more rigorously pruned by the Government, till the merest shadow is all that remains. At this moment the entire social structure of Russia is analogous to this Duma-system. The Russian world of intellect is no more entitled to represent the Russian people, than the fourth Duma is to represent the first. The Russian intellectuals may speak in the name of the people, but their word is really no better than a third-hand account. Even when there is no attempt at falsification, they always stand at a certain distance from the people. Whatever the great Russian realists have written concerning their own people is merely intuitive conjecture from a distance. A poet projects his own world into the people. The psychology of the great Russian writers of fiction is a tendency, an illusion based not on exact, but on intuitive knowledge of the people. Russian realism borders on the visionary, and on mysticism. Europe has hitherto failed to discern the actual foundations of this poetry in its relation to Russian life, and has simply allowed herself to be fascinated by the “keen psychology” of the writers. The result has been a false impression. The facts are really different—instead of real truthfulness we find in the Russian writer a realistic tendency, a real ethical resentment; thence the increased “keenness” of his psychology, the critical touch in his imagination, which gives such a striking effect of verisimilitude. European critics have never detected the seam in the fabric of the Russian novel; they have accepted the masterpiece as the outcome of a single creative inspiration. Even though Russian realism comes nearer to life than that of any other literature, still it is more art than life.

Proof of this is to be found in Gogol’s private correspondence. He frequently complained that nobody would send him “copy” from Russian life. He begs in vain for hints, anecdotes and descriptions; he has to “invent” his stories, and is ashamed of having to “deceive” his reader. In his immortal comedy, “The Revising Inspector,” Gogol satirizes his own “untruthfulness,” and in Hlestakoff, the great adventurer, who is mistaken by every one for the real revising inspector, he ridicules himself. For the sake of the people Gogol consents to play the “revising inspector!” But Gogol’s “untruthfulness” is simply creative genius. An eminent Tolstoi student, Osvianiko-Kulikovsky, has plainly asserted that even Tolstoi was not of the soul of the people but of the soul of the gentry. Tolstoi is a “barin” (landlord) and he thinks and feels only as a barin. Turgenyeff was blamed even during his lifetime for writing about Russia without knowing it; for he practically never lived in Russia.

The inmost soul of the Russian people has, however, found an excellent representative in Dostoievski. “Do not judge the Russian people”—pleads Dostoievski—“by the atrocious deeds of which they have often been guilty, but by those great and holy matters to which they aspire in their depravity. And not all the people are depraved. There are saints among them, who shed their light upon all, to show them the way.”

Dostoievski himself was such a light and such a saint. His works reflect the character of the Russian clearly and faithfully as it is:

“In the Russian man of the people one must discriminate between his innate beauty and the product of barbarism. Owing to the events of the whole history of Russia, the Russian has been at the mercy of every depraving influence, he has been so abused and tortured that it is a miracle that he has preserved the human countenance, let alone his beauty. But he has actually retained his beauty ... and in all the Russian people there is not one swindler or scoundrel who does not know that he is mean and vile.”

Dostoievski further adds: “No! The Russian people must not be judged by what they are, but by what they aspire to be. The strong and sacred ideals, which have been their salvation from the age of suffering, are deeply rooted in the Russian soul from the very beginning, and these ideals have endowed this soul for all time with simplicity and honesty, with sincerity, and a broad, receptive good sense,—all in perfect harmony.”

Concerning the part the Russian people are destined to play in the world, Dostoievski wrote the following:

“The Russian people is a strange phenomenon in the history of mankind. Their character is so different from that of the other peoples of Europe that to this day Europeans have failed to understand it, and misconstrue it at every turn. All Europeans move towards the same goal. But they differ in their fundamental interests, which involve them in collisions and antagonisms, whereby they are driven to go different ways. The ideal of a universal humanity is steadily fading from among them. The Russian people possess a notable advantage over the other European nations,—a remarkable peculiarity. The Russians possess the synthetic faculty in a high degree—the gift of feeling at one with the universe and a universal humanity. The Russian has none of the European angularity, he possesses the gift of discernment and of generosity of soul. He can adapt himself to anything and he can understand. He has a feeling for all that is human, regardless of race, nationality or fundamental ideas. He finds and readily admits reasonableness in all that contains even a vestige of true human instinct. By this instinct he can trace the human element in other nationalities even in exceptional cases. He accepts them at once, seeks to approximate them to his own ideas, ‘places’ them in his own mind, and often succeeds in finding a starting-point for reconciling the conflicting ideas of two different European nations.”4

This characteristic is so general and so true, that all other opinions on the character of a great people must take second place. It finds room for the Cossack with his nagaika and for Tolstoi with his gospel. It embraces every aspect of the human soul. Dostoievski himself possessed the synthetic faculty, the wonderful gift of universal understanding. He could make it clear that a crime may be a holy deed, and holiness mere prostitution, even as he succeeded in fusing Russian Christianity with the Tatar “Karat”5 in one soul. Whence came all these paradoxes in the one man? On one occasion he wrote: “I am struggling with my petty creditors as Laokoon wrestled with the serpents. I urgently require fifteen roubles. Only fifteen. These fifteen roubles will give me relief, and I shall be better able to work.” Here lies the secret of the Russian synthesis in Dostoievski. Mental work is restricted by hard external circumstances. The inherent tendency to despond when in trouble is one of the greatest dangers to the Russian. He would fain lead the contemplative life, and hesitates “to take up arms against a sea of troubles.” To combat this he has had to lash himself into a state of hard practical efficiency. The Russian must grow strong against himself before he can again take up his ideal of an aggressive inner life. It is once more a case of Laokoon and the serpents. For this very reason Tolstoi’s teaching did not appeal to Dostoievski. When he had read a few sentences of this doctrine he clutched his head and cried: “No, not that, anything but that!” A few days later he was dead, and the world will never know what was gathering in his mind against the great heretic. But Dostoievski’s works are really in themselves a most vehement refutation of the Nazarene doctrine—it is as if he had prophetically discerned Tolstoi. Dostoievski solves the contrast between European culture and Christianity in accordance with both the Church and culture. He bows before the miracle, the mystery, and authority, and thus creates the union between material culture and Christian culture. He accepts the world as a whole, even as the Russian people take it.

Tolstoi denies the divinity of Christ and the entire synthesis of Russian philosophy. But even Tolstoi could only have been born in Russia. Personally he liked being accepted by the Russian peasants as one of themselves. The figure of the “Muzhik” is inseparable from Tolstoi’s doctrine, because Tolstoi’s doctrine is inseparable from the Russian people. It lives in the Great Submerged, who are as far removed from Western culture in fact as Tolstoi himself is in theory. Russian law courts have to deal every day with people who refuse to pay taxes, to serve in the army, or to acknowledge the “pravoslav” clerical authority. The Church calls these people “Shkoptzi,” “Molokami,” or “Hlisti.” There are about twenty million of them. They style themselves “White doves,” “The New Israel,” “Doukhobortzi.” In principle they are “pure Christians” like Tolstoi. Both have the same “tone” of soul. Dostoievski says of Tolstoi that he was one of those who fix their eyes on one point, and cannot see what happens to the right or to the left of that; and if they do wish to see it they have to turn with their whole body, as they invariably move their whole soul also in one direction only. This correctly observed obstinacy is the very opposite to the synthetic gift and generosity of soul mentioned before, and this peculiarity of the Russian mind has often been called “Maximalism,” to denote the rigid criterion, which loves no happy mean, but always goes to the utter extreme.

Many Western writers, among them the British author Bering, have asserted that the Slavs have no strength of will. This view is erroneous and harmonizes neither with Tolstoi’s tendency to extremes, nor with Dostoievski’s universal charity. It applies only to such phenomena in Slav life as are accessible to the European tourist, as, for instance, technical undertakings and colonial enterprise; for in this matter the Slav is naturally not so well qualified as the Englishman.

The Russian soul, and consequently the character of the Russian people, is many-sided and paradoxical in its obstinacy and its generosity. It is the historical outcome of such extremes as are represented by yellow positivist Mongolism, and gentle altruistic Christianity. But the soul of the Russian people has not yet clearly found itself, like the souls of the Western nations; first, because the head has not yet acquired control over the body; secondly, because the work of enlightenment and emancipation is only being completed by the present war. Hitherto it has laboured in its birth-throes. It has been a Laokoon wrestling with serpents.

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I. The Contrast—National Character of the Poles—Our Lady of Csenstochova—Dancing Peasants—Galician Poles—Selfish Policy—Austria a Slav State.

II. The Poles in Russia—Russia’s Repressive Measures—The Slav Ideal—A Better Understanding—The Poles in Prussia—The Iron Heel—Law of Expropriation.

III. Csech Characteristics—Professor Masaryk—Jan Huss—Slav Puritans—The Hradćin—Modern Politics.

Roughly speaking the Group of the Northern Slavs includes twenty million Poles and eight million Csechs. Numerically, therefore, they are the greatest of the unliberated Slav peoples. Bohemia and her sister-country Moravia are under Austrian rule, while Poland has been dismembered and partitioned between Russia, Germany and Austria. At one time both countries were great and flourishing, and played a prominent part in history. In 1526 the Csechs51 acknowledged the Hapsburgs as their ruler,6 and Bohemia’s political decay and gradual loss of independence date both from this point. The first partition of Poland in 1772 deprived the Republic of liberty. Her dismemberment was finally completed and sealed by the third partition in 1795, and henceforth the Poles were even deprived of the possibility of co-operating as a nation.

The Csechs and Poles have both passed through a national tragedy, but of the two the Polish tragedy makes a stronger appeal to the imagination, because of the contrast between their former greatness and their present position, the high level of their culture, and the lofty principles at stake in the Great Polish Revolution. The Poles fell victims to the foreign yoke just as their civilization, their culture, and their esprit were on the fairway to rival the intellectual splendours of France under Louis XIV. They were a brilliant people—mentally and intellectually refined, but physically decadent, and quite incapable of surviving their political freedom. They yielded to listless sentimentality and bewailed their lost greatness instead of fighting to retrieve it. You may love the Poles with your heart but never with your reason! In this they are the very antithesis to the Csechs whom you cannot love except with your reason. You may admire them for the culture they have so laboriously won, but you cannot love them for it.

To the German and Austrian the Csech presents a comic type. But no one looks upon the Pole as comic; you hate him or you love him, but you cannot ridicule him—there is something great and tragic about him. The Russians who hate him for political reasons are fired by religious fanaticism. They hate the Jesuitical principles of the Pole. The Germans hate the Polish want of management, and “Polnische Wirtschaft” (“Polish management”) is a German idiom. But no one would insult Polish idealism and the innate nobility of the Pole. He compares with the Csech as Don Quixote with Sancho Panza. He is a dreamer and visionary who prostrates himself before an invisible shrine and awaits the miracle of salvation and liberation. This life of dreams has endowed the modern Pole with hyper-sensitive nerves, dogmatic onesidedness, and extreme passivity. Lost in the contemplation of their royal past, the Polish people wait in breathless silence for the first bird-note to herald the dawn of freedom that shall dispel the night of tribulation.

But, while the conscience of the nation languishes, crucified in the bitter suffering of a Messianic ideal, the Masses—the common people—are sane and sturdy; they live and multiply far removed from the griefs of the Classes. Their hard life has made them dull and unfeeling; caught in a world of factories, mines, and social democracy, they are only interested in their own immediate concerns and personal pleasures. Anything beyond that they expect from the mediation of “Bogarodjitza” (Mother of God).

Wijspianski, a fine Polish dramatist, has strikingly sketched the national character in one single scene in his play “Wesele” (The Wedding). The people are dancing their Polonaise and Mazurka, with gay cockades and ribands on their shoulders. The pretty bride leads off with her herculean bridegroom. Suddenly Yasiek rushes in upon the dancers and cries, “To arms! rise and rebel, for Poland!” But the couples—as if bewitched—continue to dance the national measure. Yasiek, bitterly disappointed, sees his hopes blighted and, choked with despair, he sinks to the ground. But the couples go on dancing, and he is trampled to death by the feet of those whom he came to lead to freedom. This scene epitomises the position of affairs in modern Poland—the despair of the great lord with his pedigree, broad acres, and capital, who has absolutely no hold over the plain people because they have turned away from him. They have lost their rights, their land and their traditions; the only link between the two is the Catholic ideal, the ideal of Polish Catholicism, which is hallowed in the image of Our Lady of Csenstochova, whose brow is encircled with the crown of the ancient Queens of Poland.

The younger generation in Poland has realized that this link between the Classes and Masses must rest on a surer foundation.

Between the aristocracy and the masses has arisen the class of the educated poor. These people are mainly of Russian descent, but the sons of Polish Jews form an important proportion and have acquired considerable influence, chiefly in the journalistic world. This young Poland saw itself confronted by a great vanished Polish age of romanticists and poets, with pronounced aristocratic and Catholic sentiments. The whole intellectual struggle of the modern democratic generation consists in an attempt to find contact with this past. Science also is endeavouring to reconcile the spirit of the present with the spirit of the past, and hopes to prepare the future development of an individualistic Polish culture on this foundation.

The contrast between German and Polish culture is the contrast between the culture of the masses and the culture of the individual. The principal social feature in mediæval Germany was feudalism. Germany was ruled by a number of feudal princes, Poland by a number of aristocratic families. But this régime proved disastrous to Poland. A state where individuals rule by mutual consent is bound to develop differently from one where families rule without any mutual consent. In the expansive Western monarchies the power of the State increased, while the aristocratic republic of Poland steadily declined. The main reason for this difference probably lies in the geographical position of Poland. It lay too far from the West—too far from Rome and its culture.

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The province of Galicia, which fell to Austria’s share by the partition of Poland, undoubtedly fared better than the rest of the country. It is inhabited by 4,252,483 Poles and 3,381,570 Ruthenes (including Bukovina). As geographical and racial neighbours of the Csechs, who were already displaying the greatest determination in their national struggle, the great population bade fair to become a danger to Austrian policy. Vienna was quick to realize this, and arranged her tactics towards the Poles accordingly. As soon as the Russian and German Poles began to be down-trodden, it was an easy matter to dispose of any separatist tendency among the Austrian Poles by reminding them of the position of their brothers. At home the Government began by fomenting the national discord between the Poles and the Ruthenes. It neglected the latter in favour of the Poles, and absolutely disregarded their reasonable claims. The Poles were not only granted great national and political concessions; they became the Slav favourite of the Viennese ministry. Not only were they represented by their own “Landmannsminister” (“the Secretary for Galicia,” so to say), but one other important portfolio (usually that of Finance) was always entrusted to a Pole.

The Poles were quite content with this position and supported Austrian policy accordingly. As this policy is above all things anti-Slav, this meant that the most chivalrous of all the Slav nations became a tool in the hands of Slavdom’s chief oppressor. This was partly due to the fact that this staunchly Catholic people is surrounded by non-Catholic enemies—by Protestant Germans on the one hand and Orthodox Russians on the other. Moreover, they look upon Catholicism as the one safe harbor—hence their attachment to Roman Catholic Austria. Here also lies the clue to Polish views, their sympathies and antipathies. But there is no justification for this position. Catholicism is not a Slav national religion, and can never become part of the soul of a Slav people. Strictly speaking, it is responsible for the decline of part of the Slav race. All Catholic Slav countries up to date have been in captivity, whereas all such Slavs as have retained their national orthodox religion are free. It is quite natural that the Poles should cling to Catholicism as an acquired religion which appeals to them, but they should not have used it as a national and traditional basis for their attitude towards the rest of the Slavs. It is a mistake which has done little good to their own national aspirations, and incalculable harm to the Slav cause.

In many Slav circles there is a tendency to ascribe this attitude of the Poles, not to their Messianic ideal, but to a purely individual egotism. This view is at least partially true, were it only because Polish politics are not the politics of the nation, but of the ruling class. The Polish aristocracy, who were unable to forget their past glories, saw in the feudal and aristocratic principles of the Austrian Government a possibility of retaining their position in the Dual Monarchy. They made full use of their opportunities even while (in theory) they were careful to guard Polish national interests. This aristocracy had no feeling for the common Slav cause, and whenever they had a chance of authority (Goluchowski, Bilinski) they have proved themselves a positive danger to the cause. That this aristocracy has cast its spell over the greater part of the educated classes and formed political parties as it chose is due to the inherent moral dependence of the Pole upon his aristocracy;—snobbery is as much a disease with him as Roman Catholicism. Not however among the common people are they always the heedless dancers of Wijspianski’s drama. They allow everything to pass over them, and only trample upon that which happens to lie beneath their feet. Moreover, their inmost soul is rich in the true Slav qualities; but this wealth is hidden as in a fast-locked casket, and there it will lie until the radiant smile of the “Mother of God” of Csenstochova shall miraculously reveal it.

For a long time Polish politics have disturbed the Slav balance in the Dual Monarchy. The Austro-Hungarian monarchy is properly a Slav State in the fullest sense of the word. According to official statistics 22,821,864 out of 51,351,531 souls are Slavs. The ruling races, Germans and Hungarians, number 21,259,644 between them, and the remainder are accounted for by Roumanians, Italians and other nationalities. It must be pointed out that Slavs living in Hungary (especially in Baczka and in the Banat) are—much against their will—simply entered in the census as Hungarians, and that in like manner hundreds of thousands of Slavs in Bohemia, Carinthia, Styria and Carniola are put down as Germans. Protests against these proceedings pass unheeded, and Slav National Census Unions were formed to check the Governmental statistics; according to these more than 50 per cent. of the entire population are Slavs. This percentage is proportionately increased if we further include the Slav emigrants in Australia and America. These number about five million, and would doubtless return to their homes if more tolerable conditions could be procured.

And yet this Monarchy aspires to be anything but a Slav State. German and Magyar rule has sought to swamp the Slav element in every possible way. Following Metternich’s principle “divide et impera” the Slavs were divided into two “spheres.” The Northern Slavs were handed over to Austrian autocracy, and the Southern Slavs to Magyar plutocracy. Thus it came to pass that 9 million Germans rule 15 million Slavs, and 10 million Magyars, Jews, or spurious Magyars rule 7-1/2 million Slavs.

Even if theoretically the balance of power seems more rational in the Hungarian sphere, in the Austrian it is plainly absurdly disproportionate. And here the Poles were the straw in the balance which decided in favour of German hegemony. If the Poles had recognized their duty to their own race the Slav question would long ago have been on a better footing. A just understanding with the Ruthenes and a joint national struggle with the Csechs would certainly have broken German supremacy, or forced it to accord more tolerable conditions to all the Slavs. But the Galician Poles have never done anything for the Slav cause in the Monarchy, but rather sought to curry favour with the Government in Vienna, and, by repudiating their kinship, to obtain concessions for their own negative national ideals, and for their intellectual and economic development. Austria had no objection to this platonic nationalism so long as the Poles by their pro-German policy supported her in oppressing the other Slavs.

The Csechs and Ruthenes have been specially handicapped in their national struggle by the attitude of the Poles. And the result was an implacable enmity between the Poles and the Ruthenes, which was, if anything, encouraged by the Government. In this struggle the Ruthenes undoubtedly fared the worse. They are in a national minority in Galicia, and unmercifully oppressed by the Poles, who hate them all the more for being the descendants of the hated Russians (Little Russians) and because they refused to conceal their sympathy with Russia. The Ruthenes fought hard for the right to speak their own tongue and have their own school system. But the Poles were ruthlessly opposed to these demands, which were in consequence also denied by the Government. The struggle finally degenerated into wholesale denunciations of the Ruthenes by the Poles, who accused their enemies of high treason and conspiracy with Russia.

It must, however, be admitted that even among the Poles there were many who deeply deplored this fratricidal struggle, and did their utmost to induce the Northern Slavs of the Monarchy to combine in the common cause. Time and again the Csech patriots urged the desirability of a union, and, as similar appeals came from other Slav countries also, the realization of a true Pan-Slav and democratic ideal often seemed imminent. The spectre of Pan-Germanism, waiting like some ravenous monster to devour the Slav nations limb by limb, appeared even to the Poles, but unscrupulous politicians, bureaucratic upstarts, and slippery diplomats from Vienna conjured up the bogey of Russification to alarm them, and all patriotic efforts were in vain.

Still it is psychologically interesting that a Slav race through fear of Russification should have thrown itself into the arms of—Germanism.

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The favoured position of the Poles in Austria contrasts sharply with that of their brothers in Russia and Germany. They were oppressed in every way;—Russian official policy towards the Poles bears all the stamp of autocratic tyranny. Their political rights are restricted to a minimum, and as regards civil rights they are nearly as badly off as the Russian Jews. Still it is characteristic that the reason for this oppression lay, not in the national, but in the religious element. Roman Catholicism, which was an advantage to the Austrian, proved a misfortune to the Russian Poles. For the Russian looks upon Catholicism as the very antithesis to his conception of the Slav ideal. Pravo-Slav Russia, with her ancient, wondrously pure Slavo-religious traditions, and all the warmth of her faith, could not take kindly to the haughty, frigidly cold Catholic Poles. The great political power of the Holy Synod, the supreme (unfortunately too clerical) representative body of this faith, exercised an influence adverse to the Polish people, and the Russian Government, which only too often has been the mere executive of the will of the Holy Synod, established an autocratic régime with far-reaching national and personal restrictions. The first result of this policy was unmitigated hatred on the part of the Poles, and a craving for vengeance and freedom. The Russian Poles intrigued with their Austrian brothers, and envied them their favoured position. But the only support the Austrian Poles vouchsafed their brothers was that they applied the Russian methods of oppression to the Ruthenes.

Whoever knows anything of Russia’s repressive measures, will realize that the Poles were in a hard case. Owing to the passive character of the Poles their struggles were never sufficiently organized to assume the proportions of a well organized revolution. But oppression has strengthened their national self-reliance, their ideals have burned more brightly, and a longing for freedom has entirely dominated them. Still, even now, they are far more inclined to wait for the miracle than to bestir themselves on their own behalf; and if in recent years their position has somewhat improved, it is not so much due to their own efforts as to the wave of modern thought among the Russians themselves.

The Russian Governmental policy made no distinction between the Poles and her Russian subjects who were thirsting for social regeneration. So the Russians discovered for themselves that they had to seek the friendship and collaboration of the Poles. The wide horizon of the modern Russian movement will not permit the exclusion of a single capable member of the Tsar’s great realm from the benefits of the future. Not only the Russian people, but the whole of Russia had to be won over to the cause of the great ideal. The regeneration of Russia was to herald the regeneration of the whole of the Slav race, and the Poles as Slavs had a right to help in this work. The Russians have always said that they are very fond of the Poles, but that they are not sufficiently Slav—they ought to be Slavicized. The Russian Government sought to accomplish this by violence, whereas the Russian people, represented by the Russian revolutionaries, chose the better path of mutual understanding and respect. Of course, the official policy of the Holy Synod is still in force, and although the constitutional manifesto and the Duma have brought about certain changes, these are at present quite unimportant. The Poles, however, are winning an increasing number of friends and advocates among the Russians, who are pleading for equal rights and a constitution for Poland. Moreover, the times have changed, and when Russia was confronted by the present great European crisis the Poles displayed a marvellous loyalty, which has, perhaps, unintentionally brought them nearer the realization of their dreams than they have ever been before. The Manifesto of the Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaievitch is the greatest event in Polish history since the partition.

The hardest lot of all has befallen those Poles who have been most loyal to their race. I mean those who came under Prussian rule. For whereas Polish Slavdom is tolerated in Austria, and actually encouraged in Russia, in Prussia it is remorselessly ground down under the iron heel of Germanism. Germanization is carried out by Prussian rule, aggressively, in a strictly military sense. It is not a question of political tactics—no opinion at home or abroad is considered; there is nothing but frank coercion. Germany’s ambitions are only too well known—they have been advertised loudly enough, and they have been expounded again quite recently in General von Bernhardi’s notorious book, “Germany and the Next War”—a book written with all the brusque insolence of which only a German is capable. If Germany’s future programme includes the Germanizing of the whole of Europe, it is surely superfluous to relate in detail how she strove to Germanize a people under her own rule—it is one of the blackest chapters in the histories of oppression.

By the constitution of Germany the Prussian Poles cannot forfeit their rights as citizens of the realm. This circumstance afforded them a chance of laying their grievances before the legislative assemblies. But in spite of their gallant courage, the struggle brought them no particular advantage except the moral satisfaction of knowing that their pleading could reach the ear of Europe. But whenever their voice grew too loud, the mailed fist fell on their lips and struck them dumb. When the German Reichstag passed the Polish Expropriation Law (1886)7 all Europe was scandalized; but from the point of view of Germanization it was highly successful. Germany disregarded foreign opinion and the law was put in force.

It is to be hoped that the conclusion of the present European war will also put an end to the sufferings of these martyrs, and that the whole Polish nation will be granted an opportunity of applying its many admirable qualities for its own welfare and for the union of the Slav race.

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The Csechs have always been a strong, tenacious, energetic people, and no sooner did they begin to feel the iron fist of their oppressors than they opened a determined campaign against them and pitted their strength against their tyrants. They have won their present civilization inch by inch from their oppressors.

The eminent Csech political economist, Professor Masaryk, admirably forecasts the future of his people. He says—“The humanistic ideal, the ideal of regeneration, bears a deep national and historical significance for us Csechs. A full and sincere grasp of the human ideal will bridge over the spiritual and ethical dreams of centuries, and enable us to advance with the vanguard of human progress. The Csech humanitarian ideal is no romantic fallacy. Without work and effort the humanitarian ideal is but dead; it demands that we shall everywhere and systematically oppose ourselves to all that is bad, to all social unhumanity—both at home and abroad—with all its clerical, political and national organs. The humanitarian ideal is not sentimentality—it means work, work, and yet again work!”

Now all this is by no means a characteristic of the Csech people, but only a forecast of what they shall be. Political tactics must always correspond to the principles of decency and humanity. Masaryk further says—“Our fame, our wars, and our intervention in the past have borne a religious, not a national stamp. Our national ideal is of more recent birth—it only belongs to the last, and more especially to the present century. The history of Bohemia must not be judged from this standpoint.”

Perhaps this programme will prove too historical and too unpractical for the present day. The small commercial and industrial Csech nation is too far removed from the age of Jan Huss, and the Csech reformation has lost its significance for them. But deep down in the soul of the Csech people there still dwells a spark of the Hussite spirit. Of course, the battle-cry is nationalist, the phrasing that of the twentieth century, but the underlying spirit differs in no way from the righteous indignation of Huss, when he preached against high-handed oppression and violence. The physical inferior is never anxious to see his affairs settled by physical force. For this reason it is not a matter of indifference to the Csechs, whether they fight for a higher principle or merely for material advantage. At present they are principally fighting for their language, for the right to speak their own tongue—they are fighting against Germanization. Their strongest weapon in this fight is their striving for economic prosperity—a physical power through which they may hope to obtain a spiritual victory.

The principal trait in the Csech character is initiative. The very name points to this, for “Csech” is derived from the old-Slav word “Chenti,” meaning “to will” or “to begin.”

History finds the Csechs in the vanguard of all the Slav tribes in their wanderings westward. Their legendary leader was Csech, one of three brothers, and his tribe penetrated the farthest. In the Middle Ages the Csechs were the first to challenge the power of Rome, and to this day they send numbers of enterprising emigrants to all parts of the world. But the Csechs have one great fault—they are fickle. Their enthusiasm flashes up quickly and then as quickly dies down. This is the reason of the failure of the Hussite Reformation. The Germans finished what the Csechs began—Luther was the successor of Huss and completed his work.

The Csechs are not by nature a commercial and industrial people. Their business capacity is born of necessity—it is a weapon, not a means of gain. It is kept going by an unwearied agitation on the part of the national leaders, and if the Csech national ideal should suffer shipwreck, then Csech finance, ambition, and industry will likewise perish.

Sundry Slavophil thinkers would exclude the Csechs from the group of Slav peoples, just because of their initiative and business capacity. The Russian ethnologist Danilevski calls the Csech people a monstrosity, a German people with a Slav tongue. But these men have overlooked the fact that the foundation of modern Csech prosperity was laid by the religion of the Csech Brethren. During the Catholic reaction the Csech Protestants were driven from their possessions and treated as aliens in their own country. Being thus compelled to evolve a new means of gaining a livelihood, they turned to industry. Trade and the towns were closed to them, and the Csech Brethren had to seek refuge in the Bohemian and Moravian hills, and the Orlic mountains. They became weavers, wood-carvers and miners, and laid the foundation of the great modern Bohemian textile, glass and earthenware industries. Religious considerations and nothing else have made the Csechs into a mercantile nation. England’s wealth also springs from a religious movement—the rise of Puritanism. Thrift and industry led to the accumulation of capital. Only a religious man understands work and thrift, and he alone knows how to utilise capital as a moral lever. For this reason it would be wrong to adopt the views of the Russian ethnologist. The Csech people as they are have a right to their future and to freedom.

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In the centre of Prague, on the summit of the Hradčin, stands the old Csech Royal Castle, a splendid monument of past greatness. Proud and lofty, visible from afar, it speaks to the Csech people of the days when it sheltered—not the foreign invader, but flesh of their flesh, Csech kings and princes of their own blood. And even as it is a monument of the past, it is also a beacon for the present and the future. When the setting sun sheds his crimson glory upon Castle and Hradčin, it seems as though the very stones were aglow with the reflection of all the Csech blood that has been shed in the defence of right and liberty. But—the royal splendour vanishes with the sun, and the shadow of night descends on Castle and height like a symbol of the present age of gloom. Day by day, with burning eyes, the Csech reads the wordless message. Yet he does not give way to dreams, or sink into deep melancholy, nor does he wait for a miracle. He clenches his fist and smiles the grim smile of the tireless warrior. His fickleness at the time of the Reformation weighs like a sin on his conscience, but its ideals have set their mark upon him and quickened the seed of political reformation in his soul. In this matter the Csechs take the lead among all the Slavs in Austria-Hungary.

I have already mentioned that in certain Slav circles the Csechs are looked upon as Germans with a Slav tongue. But, if their industrial and mercantile prosperity and certain individual characteristics lend some colour to this view, it is quite refuted by the Csech activity in the Slav national and political cause. In their sturdy and progressive struggle against Germanization the Csechs have set the other Austrian Slavs a tactical and practical example as to how the struggle should be fought—tactically on constitutional lines, and, practically, with indomitable courage and perseverance.

In spite of their long subjection to an absolute autocracy, the Csechs developed into so strong a political factor, that even Vienna began to fear the weight of their hand. They achieved this not only from a sense of self-preservation or separatist selfishness like the Poles, but the Slav ideal runs like a gold thread through all they have done; it is their motto, task and goal. They were beset from three sides, by the Austrian Germans in all their power, by Polish opposition, and by Magyar agitations and hostile influences in Vienna. The Southern Slav deputies in the Reichstag were their only helpers in the unequal struggle. But they never relaxed their energy and they never yielded a position they had won.

The national struggle in Bohemia took on its present form in the first half of the nineteenth century, and it first centred round “cultural” interests as in other Slav countries. The love of the people for their own language had to be established and even rekindled to a pitch of fiery enthusiasm, and national education had also to be fostered by the foundation of Csech national schools. The State was by no means anxious to enlighten the people, and the number of schools maintained in the country was quite inadequate. The fiscal schools were all German and served to spread the German propaganda. But the Csech educated classes founded schools at their own expense, as well as the “Matica Školska” (School Union), which undertook the organization of these schools. This was an effective counter-stroke to Germanization as well as a good foundation for further success. Palacky, Kollar and Havliček were leaders of the National movement of the time.

Palacky was the source from whom the others drew their inspiration. He was a great thinker, a brilliant author, and a cautious, liberal-minded politician who may be considered the founder of modern Csech national life. And through him radiated the light that pointed the way which these people must take. Kollar, the poet and publicist, and Havliček, as politician and political economist, shared the Csech leadership with Palacky, and paved the way for a great national intellectual movement which kept pace with the national political movement. They founded a strong nationalist party in Bohemia (The Old Csechs) in opposition to the Viennese Government. With their majority in the Landtag, and their appearance in the Viennese Parliament, the Csech people became a factor with whom the Government had to reckon for good or for evil—a people who refused to be ousted. Bohemia, which official Austria loves to consider a German country, had to be divided into “spheres.” The State had to pay for the upkeep of Csech schools and the administration became bi-lingual! Of course, in accordance with the usual Government policy, many Csech localities were included in German spheres and promptly became bones of contention. The “Matica Školska” founded more schools in these spheres to prevent the Germanization of Csech children, whilst the German schools pursued their system of an unofficial propaganda with the tacit support of the Government. This state of affairs led to constant disturbances, which frequently degenerated into riot and bloodshed. With the rise of the “Young Csechs” the struggle assumed a more drastic and determined character, for this party aimed at nothing less than a purely Csech government for Bohemia, and a proportionate share in the management of Imperial affairs. They repeatedly succeeded in wrecking the Austrian Government, and under Prince Hohenlohe they were so strongly represented in the Cabinet that they succeeded in making their power felt. The “Young Csechs” have greatly helped the national cause in Bohemia, and also furthered the Slav cause by their enthusiastic championship of the All-Slav Ideal.

One of their leaders, Dr. Kramarz, who was very friendly with Russia, has been specially active in this cause. Though the “Young Csechs” are still the leading party, recent years have seen the rise of parties even more radical in their demands. The Social-Nationals and the Csech Radicals desire to see Bohemia an absolutely autonomous State, whereas the followers of Professor Masaryk aim at the regeneration of the Csech race on a different basis (see opening of this article).

Events have moved rapidly in Bohemia since the last Balkan war, which made a profound impression on all the Austrian Slavs. Owing to the uncompromising attitude taken up by the various parties, the Government dissolved the Bohemian Landtag, suspended the constitution and placed the administration in the hands of a Commission appointed by the Government and responsible to none. The Csechs retorted by a violent obstruction in the Viennese Parliament and so paralyzed the House, that it had to be prorogued indefinitely. The Csechs demanded the immediate convocation of the Landtag. “No Landtag, no Austrian Parliament,” was their watchword, and they stood firm. When the crisis with Serbia and the outbreak of the war occurred, the Parliament was unable to adopt any attitude towards these events, and the only constitutional body in the Monarchy able to deal with them was the Hungarian Parliament.

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Country and People—The building up of the Bulgarian State—Relations with Russia—German Influence—Alexander of Battenberg—King Ferdinand—Bulgaria’s Immediate Duty.

Although it is asserted on historical grounds that the Bulgarians are a mixed race, and merely “Slavicized” by the influence of neighbouring Slav races, they certainly ought to be included in the great Slav family. In many ways they have always held aloof from the Slav Ideal, and emphatically preferred to stand alone, but, nevertheless, they have done great service to the Slav cause in the past, and often fought for it with true enthusiasm. In the early days of Christianity the Bulgarians also did much for Slav culture through the Bogumili—(a sect of reformers which will be dealt with in the Chapter on the Southern Slavs)—who spread religious enlightenment, and through the old Bulgarian tongue laid the foundation of the other Slav languages. The Bulgarians, who were once masters of a great Empire, and enjoyed worldwide importance under Simeon the Great, had78 to share the age-long tragedy of all the Eastern Slavs, and it speaks volumes for their national character that they emerged from Turkish bondage as a strong, self-reliant people. Whoever knows the Bulgarians well, cannot fail to respect them, even if they do not inspire great affection. I believe as a race they are not affectionate—they prefer to command respect. The gentle, dreamy, love-craving element in the character of the other Slavs is quite absent in them, and even their fire and enthusiasm is not a matter of sentiment, but a practical necessity—almost a matter of mathematical calculation. Industrious and thrifty as no other Slav nation, cold-blooded and calculating, they have justly been called the “Slav Japanese.” Their type is very interesting and differs considerably from that of the other Slavs. Almost without exception the men are handsome and strongly built, whereas the appearance of the women is spoilt by their wide cheek-bones and thick-set build. Like most of the Slav peoples they are mainly farmers and cattle-breeders, and as the country is fertile, they make quite a good income out of their exports of grain, field-produce and cattle.

Although Bulgarian intellectual life springs from the people, and the Bulgarians are essentially a democratic nation, it is necessary to distinguish between the educated classes and the common people. The Bulgarian peasant is an exceedingly good fellow; physically very active, mentally rather stolid, he pursues his calling in a calm deliberate way, and is not easily ruffled. His food is most simple; he takes practically no alcohol and, owing to his temperate mode of life, lives to a very great age. The entire population numbers about four millions and shows a greater percentage of centenarians than any other nation. The Bulgarians are very fond of music and dancing, but they have no music or poetry of their own, and what they do possess has been borrowed from the Turks or other Orientals. The traveller may often come upon the genuine Nautch dance in a Bulgarian village, and will hear songs sung to purely Turkish melodies. If the Bulgarians have any advantage over the other Slavs, it is in the beauty of their unadulterated Orthodox faith. The people are narrowly religious, and up to now their religion represents the zenith of their culture. In this respect they resemble the Russians and all the Slavs who have retained the Slavo-Orthodox faith. It is superfluous to enlarge on the fighting qualities of the Bulgarians—Kirkilisse, Lule Burgas, and Adrianople have given ample proof of these.

The educated classes are distinct from the people in two ways: they are free-thinkers and quarrelsome. Religion is cultivated among them as a fashion, and the churches have become mere rendezvous, as in Paris, Berlin and Vienna. But, in spite of all this, one must admit that the educated classes of Bulgaria are excellent social organizers, though politically and intellectually they are not particularly brilliant. The amount achieved in social matters by these men in the short time that has elapsed since the emancipation is marvellous. Bulgaria in this respect has become a truly modern state. This bright side is, however, eclipsed by the countless blunders they have committed in other respects. The worst of these is their headstrong blindness in the political administration. Bulgarian politics have degenerated into a devastating party-system, and are largely responsible for the tragical happenings of recent years, in which the whole country, and more especially the innocent mass of the people have been involved. The chief characteristic of the educated Bulgarian is his distrust of everyone; he does not confine this distrust to strangers, but extends it even to his King and his own party leader.

Hitherto intellectual Bulgaria has created but little, and that little is quite out of proportion to the achievements of some other much smaller Slav nations. Bulgarian art and literature are merely poor reproductions of foreign originals and by no means express the strength and vitality of the people. Of all their poets Ivan Vasoff, Hristoff, and Aleko Konstantinoff alone have understood anything of the soul of the people, and only their work will live. In art we seek in vain for anything purely Bulgarian. But there is one thing of the greatest value that the educated Bulgarians have done for their nation, and for this they deserve a true crown of laurels. I am referring to the organization of the Macedonian bands during the last half-century. Their perseverance and heroism call for the greatest admiration.

The country owned by the Bulgarians is one of the most beautiful inhabited by Slavs. Only Dalmatia and Bosnia can compare with it, and whoever has once been there will never forget it. It is the land of the great Balkans in all their wild beauty—the land of the Kazanlik Valley with its vast glorious rose-fields; the Vratza Gorge with its romantic cliffs, dark primeval forests, and hills covered with lilac; the Black Sea, and the beautiful shores of Varna and Burgas, and above all tower the snow-capped summits of the Vitosha. Everywhere, and in everything, dwells a throbbing life, full of variety and contrast, beautiful as the men of Bulgaria and rugged as their women.

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Bulgaria was freed from the Turkish yoke in 1878. The work of emancipation was carried out by Russia with the help of Bulgarian bands and many volunteers from all the Slav countries. By the peace of San Stefano Bulgaria was de jure declared mistress of the entire territories from the Black Sea to Silistria, and along the Danube as far as Vidin in the north, from Vidin along the Morava via Ochrida as far as Yanina in the west, from Yanina via Salonika to Kavala in the south, and in a straight line from Kavala to Varna in the east. De facto she was only given independent jurisdiction over such territories as she possessed up to the first Balkan war. The complete liberation of Bulgaria was by no means achieved by the emancipation, and she continued to remain under Turkish suzerainty.

The first task after the emancipation was to reconstruct the country on the lines of a modern European state, and to infuse new life into it after so many centuries of Turkish misrule. Education was represented solely by the priests and the schoolmasters, who had laboured for the enlightenment of the people even before the emancipation. Of course, there were a few Bulgarians who possessed a European education, and had graduated at European universities, and upon these devolved the task of solving the problems of the newly-created state. There were however so few of them that, at the beginning, many men of culture were imported from other Slav countries, chiefly from Russia, Croatia and Bohemia. The military administration was entrusted to Russia, who established garrisons of her own in Bulgaria and undertook to create the Bulgarian army. Considering the transitionary stage of the country at the time, it was inevitable that the Russian military authorities should obtain considerable influence over the civil administration also, and that Bulgarian affairs fell under Russian influence from the very beginning.

Prince Alexander of Battenberg, the first Bulgarian ruler, came to the throne under similar conditions as King Carol to the throne of Roumania. He was confronted with a super-human task, and Bulgarian history can never deny the great service he rendered the country. He came with a definite mission and set to work with the greatest possible zeal. He devoted his attention chiefly to the education of the people and to the army, and he found his most energetic ally in the people themselves. The prompt efficiency of the school system would have done credit to many a more modern state. The Bulgarians are intelligent, persevering, and fond of learning, and popular education made immense strides. At the present day the percentage of adult Bulgarians who cannot read and write is exceedingly small compared to most other countries—it is 2-1/2 per cent. of the adult population. The national system of compulsory education affected the very poorest peasants as well as the better classes. Before the foundation of secondary schools in the country large numbers of young men were sent to foreign secondary schools and universities, and every year yielded its quota of well-equipped youths capable of providing the motive power for the machinery of the State. Similar purposeful energy characterized the military organization, with the intention of forming an independent, purely Bulgarian army. For, in spite of his great admiration for Russia and the Tsar Liberator, Prince Alexander felt that dependence upon Russia—more especially a military dependence—would render his country a vassal de facto of Russia, no less than it was de jure already the vassal of Turkey. He therefore strove to render the Russian military administration superfluous in Bulgaria by building up an efficient home army.

As soon as this was accomplished he sent a letter of thanks to the Tsar, made a public manifesto, gave a big dinner to the Russian generals, and gratefully dismissed the Russian co-operation. Then the Russian generals had to leave Bulgaria. No one can deny that Prince Alexander showed himself manly and self-reliant in taking this decision, which was prompted by a very proper ambition. But he gave mortal offence in Russia, and from that moment he fell completely from Russian favour. The Court circles in St. Petersburg, which had been hostile to him from the beginning, now began to intrigue against him in Bulgaria, their efforts finding a ready response in the pro-Russian party. The first Serbian War in 1885 afforded splendid proof of Alexander’s military organization, but his influence was too far undermined, and even his victories failed to save him. The tide of adverse circumstances was too strong and led to the inevitable but, fortunately, bloodless coup d’état in 1886. Prince Alexander was taken from his palace by night, transported over the frontier and formally deposed.

Prince Alexander left Bulgaria a well-organized State, only disturbed by internal party hatreds. The new ruler, Prince Ferdinand of Coburg, was received with divided sympathies. Already in many ways his path had been smoothed for him, but he met with far more opposition from his own people than his predecessor, whom Russia had installed. In spite of all this, the machinery of State continued in the path of progress, the constitution of the country was established on a broad liberal basis, and the army increased in importance from year to year. With iron perseverance Bulgaria steadily advanced to take her place among modern states, and even succeeded in taking the lead in the Balkan question. The proclamation of Ferdinand as King of Bulgaria put an end once and for all to the shadow of Turkish suzerainty, and since then Bulgaria has been frankly acknowledged as a strong, free and independent State.

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In the course of years Bulgarian relations with Russia have passed through many phases, especially during the reign of King Ferdinand. As a rule the will of Russia was decisive, but her general influence always depended on home politics and varied with the party in power. Enthusiasm for Russia and antagonism against Russian influence were alternately the order of the day. Only the people of Bulgaria remained constant in their confidence and affection for Russia; they could never forget whose hand had set them free, and even political changes could not shake them. Certain political circles took the emancipation from Russia as their party cry and hoped to make the country great outside the Russian protectorate. They desired to translate their motto “Bulgaria for the Bulgarians” into an absolute fact. This party was founded by the notorious Stambuloff, and whenever they came into power they insisted on regarding not only Russia as the national enemy, but also the Bulgarian people who were in sympathy with Russia, and they did their utmost to tyrannize the people out of this “disease.” In fighting for this idea they coined the party catchword—“Greater Bulgaria” in the hope of bribing the people by promises of Macedonia, Serbia, Greece, and even Constantinople as future tit-bits. This particular party knew very well that Russia would never allow the Slav equilibrium in the Balkans to be upset, and, as it was not over Slavonic in its sympathies, it waged a bitter opposition against the Russian protectorate, under which all the Balkan Slav nations stand to benefit equally. In opposition to Stambuloff’s party there arose another, founded by Karaveloff, the greatest of Bulgarian patriots, who fought with all the enthusiasm of which grateful hearts are capable. Karaveloff saw clearly that Bulgaria would be too weak to stand alone for a very long time to come, and that the Russian protectorate was a strong guarantee against foreign hostile influence. After Karaveloff’s death his ideas found enthusiastic partisans in Czankoff, Radoslavoff and Daneff in spite of minor tactical party differences. Stambuloff’s violent death—he was assassinated in the open street—put an end to the régime of his party for many years, and brought the moderate pro-Russian parties into power. But Bulgaria was deeply injured by his policy. He bequeathed a legacy of discord and hatred at home and provoked Russia’s displeasure abroad. The new pro-Russian Government did its utmost to heal the breach, and succeeded in improving relations with Russia, but Stambuloff’s partisans agitated in every possible way for the re-instatement of the radical anti-Russian party. In Dushan Petkoff and Evlogij Genadieff they had energetic leaders, who pursued their goal with all the characteristic Bulgarian tenacity and a ruthless persistence that was positively Asiatic. After Ferdinand had established a personal régime in Bulgaria, they realized that the turn of fortune’s wheel no longer depended on the temper of the nation or the strength of a party, but on the will of the ruler, and they were content to bide their time. Among the people they had no following whatsoever. But whichever party is in power by the will of the ruler is assured of a majority in the Parliament. Elections are invariably manipulated by terroristic pressure from the authorities. There is no difference except that, whereas the pro-Russian parties are content to employ demagogic means, the Stambulovists have had recourse to bloodshed. At last the Stambulovists were successful; they came into power in 1902—(in accordance with the wish of the highest power in the land)—and established a reign of terror equal to that of Stambuloff himself in its cruelty, but breaking all previous records as regards corruption. The Stambulovists commanded a crushing majority in the Sobranye (Parliament) and pursued a policy of secret provocations against Russia and the nation. General Ratsho Petroff, a personal favourite of King Ferdinand and an absolute nonentity, was the Premier; but the actual dictator and leader of the Stambulovist party was Dushan Petkoff, Minister of the Interior. Once more the policy of the Government took an anti-Russian trend, but in the meantime the nation had developed and steadfastly pursued a different policy. To be sure, under compulsion they had given the Government a majority but not their heart, and this heart now belonged to Russia more than ever. This sentiment found expression in various violent demonstrations; it culminated in the assassination of Petkoff (likewise in the open street) and in the abuse showered upon King Ferdinand as he drove to the opening of the National Theatre at Sofia. From that point Bulgarian policy took a totally new turn, and for a time it seemed as if the Slav renaissance had really taken root and Bulgaria had at last found herself. The Balkan Alliance before the war certainly seemed strong evidence of it.

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Bulgaria’s relations with Serbia have varied quite as much as those with Russia, but with the difference that in these ups and downs the nation has always been undivided. Bulgarian distrust of Serbia dates from the beginning of the political independence of the former. Instead of trying to settle their differences in a brotherly spirit, and to eliminate the Macedonian bone of contention by fixing the spheres of interests, both parties—especially Bulgaria—worked themselves up into a fever of enmity which could only be mutually detrimental. Actual frontier collisions added fuel to the fire, and the situation grew steadily worse. It is safe to say that there was never any love lost between the Serbs and the Bulgarians, even if political opportunism at times dictated a more friendly attitude. Many discerning Bulgarian politicians have often tried to promote a more cordial and neighbourly understanding between the two states for the sake of the Slav cause and the common good, and their Serbian colleagues loyally supported them in this. But their work was always undone by the distrustful attitude of Bulgaria, which was even increased by foreign influence. In 1885 the nation entered into the war with Serbia with unanimous enthusiasm and a bloodthirsty spite almost inconceivable between brother nations. The war was fierce, and fate favoured Bulgaria; but, instead of being content with their success, and exhibiting a victor’s finest quality—humanity, the Bulgarians only grew increasingly bitter in their hatred towards Serbia, and showed it in offensive taunts. After their defeat the Serbs obviously could not feel very friendly towards their neighbours, but I do not believe they hated them in their souls. But from one cause or another it was impossible to find the way to friendship. The Bulgarians declared that their differences with Serbia were by no means settled in this war, and that the Macedonian question would have to be decided beyond dispute. Thus the war was continued, unfortunately not only with the pen, but also with arms, for the Serbian and Bulgarian bands in Macedonia waged war upon each other more fiercely than upon the Turks. Matters went from bad to worse for both nations, and especially for the Slav cause in the Balkans. Russia exerted all her influence to reconcile the two, but with no result beyond promises of amendment. Several influential Slav personages were equally unsuccessful until the youth of the Southern Slavs entered the lists with a new plan of campaign, and attacked the problem from the standpoint of Southern Slav Culture. The authors and artists of Croatia and Slavonia, who had long stood in friendly relations with Serbia, made it their business to include the Bulgarians in the cause of Southern Slav Culture. As the intellectual youth of Bulgaria was at that time passing through a phase of national regeneration and desired to widen their horizon, these efforts fell on fruitful soil. Soon afterwards joint exhibitions of Southern Slav artists were arranged in Belgrade, Sofia, and Zagreb, and in each case an Authors’ Congress was held simultaneously. By these meetings and mutual intercourse many sharp corners were smoothed away, and many points of difference were abolished, chiefly by the help of the Croats. Serbs and Bulgarians meeting eye to eye at last realized that they were brothers, sharing a common future. The Exhibition in Belgrade coincided with the coronation of King Peter, and we witnessed the unexpected spectacle of Bulgarians acclaiming the King with as much enthusiasm as the Serbs. Those were the days of brotherhood and fellowship. The representatives of Bulgarian art and literature took their mission seriously and sincerely, proving true apostles of peace and friendship between the two peoples. They reaped considerable success, for the tide of mutual enmity subsided, and when King Peter came to Sofia on an official visit he met with a reception that expressed not merely the pomp and circumstance of a Court but the heartfelt cordiality of a friendly people. It must not be forgotten that in this rapprochement good service was rendered by those politicians of both countries who persistently did their best to improve mutual relations. Chief among these is the Serbian statesman, Nikola Pašić. He cultivated this mutual friendship so successfully that it culminated in the Balkan Alliance, which would have proved a lasting blessing to the whole of the Balkans if it had not been broken by the attack of Bregalnica. Yet the collapse of the Alliance was not due to Bulgaria, but to other extraneous influences.

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I have briefly touched upon Bulgarian relations with Russia and Serbia in order to give a brief sketch of the only too frequent mistakes made by Bulgaria’s official Government. The Bulgarians possess many excellent qualities, and, as a nation, have a distinct claim on our respect; but they have one drawback: they are not independent in politics, and their policy is not the outcome of the requirements of the times,—as a rule it is not even suited to them, but is merely the mouthpiece of foreign influences. Whenever these influences were Russian they at least did not clash with the interests of the people or do any particular harm. But, unfortunately, Bulgarian policy has to a great extent followed in Germany’s footsteps, and for a long time German influence—especially in recent years—has made alarming progress in Bulgaria. The first to fall a victim to this influence were Stambuloff and his followers who had made so free with the motto “Bulgaria for the Bulgarians.” And, in proportion to the vehemence with which they pursued their corrupt policy, they imported the German element into Bulgaria. Intellectually it would be quite impossible to Germanize the Bulgarians, but, as regards their political economy and foreign policy they fell more and more under German ascendancy. The Eastern expansive policy of Germany and Austria-Hungary, finding the doors fast closed in Serbia, was content for the moment to ignore an obdurate opponent, and insinuated itself into Bulgaria as being free from the infection of “fantastic Slav ideals.” In King Ferdinand, as a German prince, German propaganda found a distinct well-wisher. The Bulgarian stock market was controlled by German trade, Austria-Hungary and Germany founded branch banks and business houses in Bulgaria. German and Austrian Ambassadors could always command the ear of the Foreign Office. And Germany bestowed her favour or disfavour in proportion to the pro-German or pro-Russian sympathies of the Government. In face of this tide of Germanism all honest Bulgarian politicians are confronted with a herculean task, if the country is to be saved from becoming simply a vassal state to Germany. In the events which preceded the second Balkan War their labours appeared to have borne fruit, and Germany and Austria were suddenly confronted with a fact they had never even contemplated—an alliance between Bulgarians and the detested Serbs, and even a military convention between these two against Austria. But their amazement was only a thing of the moment—German influence redoubled its efforts, and the second Balkan War was due to its machinations.

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Bulgaria’s defeat in the second Balkan War has filled the nation with a burning, unquenchable hatred against Serbia. The realization of their Macedonian ambition, which had been almost within their grasp, had vanished in a bitter disappointment and plunged the heroic victors of Kirkilisse into an agony of sullen despair. When the first stupefying shock was over, the thought of revenge came uppermost, and everyone foresaw that at the next opportunity the brother nations would again fly at each other’s throats.

It would be unreasonable to deny the Bulgarian claim to part of Macedonia. If a great national problem is to be permanently and satisfactorily solved, the principal of nationality cannot be ignored. But Bulgaria exceeded the principles of nationality in her demands and aimed at a position of supremacy in the Balkans. By her acquisition of Thrace it became necessary to revise the stipulations of the Alliance Treaty, and, if the Allies could have arrived at any conclusion, or accepted the arbitration of the Tsar, to-day the position of the Balkans in the present crisis would be more favourable.

The Bulgarian nation cannot be held responsible for the crime of Bregalnica. It merely played a passive part. The official perpetrator, supposed to have remained undiscovered to this day, was guided not by the will of the nation, but by orders from Vienna and Berlin, who desired to be revenged for the affront they had suffered through the Balkan Alliance. Nothing short of a despicably devastating blow aimed at all the Balkan States would suffice, and unfortunately they found a ready tool in the wild ambitions of certain Bulgarian circles. Of course, the blow was aimed at the detested Serbians, but with the relentlessness of fate it fell upon those who had hoped to profit by the Austro-German intrigue. Though Bulgaria alone suffered material loss through the war, the whole of the Balkan States have suffered morally. For their deadly enemy achieved his main object—the breaking up of the Balkan union. Such was the lamentable state of affairs in the Balkans when the present European crisis came to a head. The Austrian declaration of war upon Serbia caused a positively insane joy in Bulgaria. It was balm to the Bulgarian wounds that the great monarchy should devour their small neighbor—their brother nation—and not one of the heroes who had helped in the conquest of Adrianople be left alive! All this time they overlooked the fact that, when Serbia had been disposed of, their own country would have been the next dish in the menu! It was a sordid triumph, neither manly, nor Slav.

In their satisfaction they even forgot Russia. No one dreamt that Russia would raise her mighty hand and cry Halt! to the Austrian devourer. But when the inevitable occurred, Bulgaria suddenly found herself face to face with a problem. Russia’s word—“Serbia’s enemies are my enemies”—staggered the honest Bulgarian people, who are attached to Russia, and they began to ask themselves very seriously, “What next?” The first upshot of this was the perceptible cooling of the anti-Slav agitation; then the nation began to reflect. The people and the patriotic Slavophile circles sent their best wishes, and their finest General—Ratko Dimitrieff—to fight for Russia, and the official Government proclaimed a strict neutrality. Both these facts bode well for the future. But the anti-Slav agitation has by no means lost all its power, and the Stambulovist circles, in conjunction with Austro-German emissaries, have not ceased to stir up the people and the masses against Serbia and against Russia. Which will prevail? It is difficult to make any forecast, especially if one remembers the personal régime of King Ferdinand, who, in spite of the constitution of the country, reigns supreme. At the same time it would be wrong to lose hope and we must trust that in the decisive hour the Slav instinct will dominate all other instincts, and thus not only assist the Slav cause, but also prove of the greatest service to civilized Europe, and above all things to Bulgaria herself.

Among Bulgarian authors we must also mention Pencho Slavejkoff (a native of Macedonia), some of whose work has been rendered into English.

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I. Serbian Self-reliance—Characteristics of the Serb People—The Power of the Folk-song—Race Consciousness.

II. History of the Southern Slavs.

III. The Birth of a Nation—Prince Miloš—“The Great Sower”—Alexander Karagjorgjević—Michael Obrenović—King Milan—Fall of the Obrenović Dynasty—King Peter—The Restoration of Serbia’s Prestige.

IV. Serbia and Austria—A Campaign of Calumny—Annexation of Bosnia-Hercegovina—The Balkan Wars—Serbia rehabilitated—The Tragedy of Serajevo.

The free and independent kingdom of Serbia is undoubtedly the most important of the Southern Slav States, although she has only three and a half million inhabitants, and is shut in on all sides by her six neighbours—Austria-Hungary, Roumania, Bulgaria, Greece, Albania and Montenegro. In 1817 she was freed from the Turkish yoke, and in less than 100 years she has developed into a sturdy, self-reliant state, efficient in an intellectual, economic and military sense in99 spite of constant upheavals at home and abroad. For all she is and has achieved Serbia is indebted only to herself, to the capabilities, valour and perseverance of her own children. Russia was her only foreign protector. The Serb is a straight-dealing, industrious man, and, like all the Southern Slavs, essentially poetic. Judged by the standard of modern school education the average Serbian peasant is perhaps not so very far advanced, and usually limits his accomplishments to reading and writing; but he is keenly observant, and his natural gifts and mother-wit are so great as to warrant a very different forecast for his future than exponents of German “Kultur” have so far predicted. Like the Russian and the Croat, the Serb is above all things a farmer, who loves his bit of black earth, and cultivates it with care; and from this love of the soil spring his pleasures, his shrewd philosophy, his large charity towards man and beast, and, above all, his love of truth and justice. Shall not all the world be just, even as the earth is just when she bestows or withholds her gifts? From time immemorial the Serb has had a great feeling for family ties and the bond of the community. The love he bears his own homestead he extends to that of his neighbour, and then in a wider sense to his whole country. Where his love of country is concerned, political and economic considerations take a second place. The Serb loves his country as a bridegroom his bride—100passionately, often unreasonably, but never with calculation. He desires his beloved land for himself—to keep it untouched by strangers. In spite of considerable business capacity he is not aggressive, and does not covet his neighbour’s possessions. But, should his neighbour dare to move his fence even one inch over the boundary, or purposely let his cattle stray into his meadow, then the Serb becomes fierce, wrathful and unforgiving. The Serbian farmer has no need to study history in order to learn where his neighbours have removed his landmarks. His history lives in his songs and ballads, and goes back a thousand years. These poems tell him everything. Every one of his beautiful folk-songs is a piece of history, a bit of the past; and they sink deeper into his heart than any historical education. The dates of his power, past splendour and decline are meaningless to him; but the sad, deeply-moving legends in his folk-songs, telling of his triumphs and his tragedies, plaintively thrilling with love of country, and his tempestuous ballads of heroism and revenge—these have fostered his sense of patriotism, his yearning for his downtrodden brothers, and his thirst for retribution. These folk-songs have been handed down from one generation to another, and to this day they have been preserved in all their pristine purity of text and melody in the souls and memories of the Serbian people. It is not necessary at a time of foreign menace to appeal to the Serb people101 with elaborately-worded proclamations and inflammatory speeches. The refrains of their songs suffice, and they take up arms as one man. But the cause must be in harmony with the traditions of the past. They fight like lions when they go to battle with their ancient songs upon their lips. Thus did they war with the Turks—thus they are warring now against Austria.

To the Serb the love of his language is second only to his love of country. The most beautiful and melodious of all the Slav tongues,8 rich in idiom and soft in modulation, it is specially fitted to be the medium of folk-poesy. This language, which is identical with that of the Croats (thence the name Serbo-Croat tongue), has been the sacred and abiding link between the Serbs and their still enslaved brothers in Turkey and in Austria. The Serbian peasant is in the habit of calling every one who speaks to him in a foreign language a “Schwabo”;9 but should the stranger address him in Serbian, or, indeed, in any of the Slav tongues, he will say: “Pa ti si naš” (Thou art one of us). Undoubtedly, apart from their national music, this bond of union has been one of the strongest factors in the preparation of the future, for through it the Serb can freely communicate with his brothers beyond the frontier. Those dear familiar sounds tell him that his brothers still live and share his speech, his songs and his yearnings. This explains the unanimous enthusiasm of the whole nation in the Balkan War, as well as in the present second war of liberation. They are not the soldiers of the king who have gone to war, but the soldiers of an ideal. The miracles of valour these men have performed are not the exploits of a war-machine, but of a great heart, in which hundreds of thousands of hearts beat as one.

Many people, and especially Germans, have said that the Serbs are dirty, lazy and dull. As regards the last of these accusations I am ready to admit that such Germans as have come in contact with the people may be excused for this impression. The Serbian peasant regards the “Schwabo” with extreme distrust. His natural shrewdness teaches him the wisdom of appearing as dull as possible before the unscrupulous exploiter he knows so well. It would be no advantage to him to inspire confidence in that quarter, and, as a matter of fact, the Serbian peasant has often got the better of the apostles of “Kultur” by this little deception. English and French travellers, who have had dealings with the Serbs, have spoken of them in most flattering terms. As regards the other two indictments, they are only absurd. The Serbian peasant works very hard indeed. If we consider the results of his labours, which can be gauged by the considerable export of farm-produce and cattle, and remember that in so poor a country as Serbia the farmer has not all the latest agricultural improvements at his disposal, it becomes obvious that he has achieved marvels by the industry of his bare hands. The dirt commented upon by his critics is nothing more than the honest dirt of the soil on his hands and clothes; but if the immaculate “Michels” had taken the trouble to glance round his house they could not have failed to notice that in cleanliness and neatness most Serbian farm-houses compare very well with the average farm-house of Western Europe. A guest of gentle birth receiving hospitality in a Serbian farm-house will certainly find nothing to complain of in the way in which he is fed and accommodated, and his wants considered. Of course there are cases of dirt and idleness in Serbia, but then where shall we find a country quite free from these...?

A prominent characteristic of the Serb is his race-consciousness. Russians, Poles, Csechs, and Bulgars are Russians, etc., first and only Slavs in a general sense. But the Serbs and Croats are as much Slavs as they are Serbs and Croats. Possibly this has not always been so. Perhaps, from being more oppressed and beset by foes than any of the other Slavs, these nations have come to look upon their sense of race as a sheet-anchor to which they clung, at first with hope, and then with heart-felt love. To a Russian, Slavdom is the symbol of his protectorate, but to a Serbo-Croat it is the breath of life.

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10 In prehistoric times, the south-eastern tracts of the Balkan Peninsula were inhabited by Armenians, who were eventually compelled to retreat to Asia Minor, about 700 B.C. The next inhabitants were the Phrygians, who possessed a well-developed civilization, and penetrated very far westward; but with the invasion of the Thracians from the north, the Phrygians were likewise forced to migrate to Asia Minor and only a few scattered groups were left between the Danube and the Balkan Mountains, where they remained until the Roman invasion. Unlike the above-mentioned Semitic races, the Pelasgians and Lepese, who formed the aboriginal population of Greece, were of pure Indo-European stock. They were eventually conquered by the Hellenes, and the illustrious Greek nation sprang from the intermingling of these three tribes.

The dawn of history shows the great Peninsula of Eastern Europe divided between three tribes. The Greeks dwelt south of Heliakmon and Olympus, the Thracians west of the Tekton valley in the eastern portion of the Peninsula, and the Illyrians west of the Pindus. Their territory extended north as far as the site of modern Vienna, and south to the Gulf of Corinth. Of these three peoples the Greeks alone attained to a high degree of civilization and culture. They founded several colonies on the narrow coast-line of Macedonia, but the greater part of the Peninsula to the west of the Vardar remained Illyrian, and, to the east of the Vardar, Thracian. Only the wealthier classes and the royal family from which Alexander the Great traced his descent migrated into these countries from Grecian Thessaly in search of conquest.

The Roman invasion was followed by considerable colonial development. Under the sound administrative policy of the Romans a certain level of civilization penetrated to the greater part of the Peninsula, and a Latinized dialect became the general language. The Thracians very speedily became Romanized, as did most of the Illyrians; the Hellenes alone retained their national distinction. The Illyrians eventually disappeared from Macedonia; but their kindred tribe, the Albanians (Skipetars, Arnauts) remain there to this day, although they show a strong admixture of ancient Roman and Slav blood. The Roumanians are the product of a lingual and racial mixture of Thracian, Roman and Slav elements.

The Great Migration broke up the Roman Empire (476 A.D.) and Europe was re-distributed—the resulting racial boundaries having for the most part persisted to this day. The Germanic tribes set their mark on the North and West, and the Slavs on the East of Europe. In 525 A.D. the Slavs under the name of “Εκλανεοι” are mentioned as dwelling on the lower Danube. From that time, and for a century, they waged fierce warfare against the Eastern Empire, until the latter became exhausted, and the Balkan Peninsula was left open to the invaders from the north.

In the first half of the seventh century, during the reigns of the Emperors Phokas (602-610) and Heraklies (610-642) the Slav hordes over-ran the countries of the upper and lower Danube like a flood from Venice to Constantinople, sweeping southward as far as Cape Matapan. The aboriginal inhabitants fled before them and took refuge in mountain fastnesses, islands, and walled towns. Christianity eventually tamed these wild hordes, and peaceful intercourse was once more established. Constantinople, Adrianople, Seres, Salonika, Larissa and Patras were the centres whence the light of Christendom and Greek culture penetrated to the Slavs.

Who and what manner of people were the Slavs? The Roman historian Jordanis (551 A.D.) already distinguishes the “Sloveni,” as he calls them, from the rest of the Slavs, whom he calls “Veniti.” He speaks of an innumerable Slav people (“Venetharum natio populosa”) divided into many tribes, of which the chief were the “Russi,” (“Anti”) between the Dniestr and Dniepr, and the “Sloveni” on the lower Danube. It is true that a number of different tribes were included under this name, just as to-day it is used to designate the whole Slav race (“Slavyane” in Russian, “Slovane” in Csech). Strictly speaking only the Southern Slavs have a right to this name, and until well into the nineteenth century they styled themselves “Sloveni” in addition to their local appellations of Croat, Serb, Bulgar, etc. With the formation of local states, the local names came more into use, but in literature and folk-poesy the name “Sloveni” is invariably adopted. As a matter of fact, the local names arose from the political and historical distribution of the race.

The geographical position of the Balkan Peninsula, as well as the two currents of civilization which flowed in upon the Southern Slavs from either side, prevented the formation of a United Southern Slav State. They split up into several lesser states, which soon lost their freedom, and submitted to foreign rule. Carniola was the first to fall a victim, for she passed under German rule as early as the eighth century.

Towards the end of the seventh century the Finnish tribe of the Bulgars conquered the Slav tribes north and south of the Balkan range and incidentally adopted the Slav language as their own. They merely retained their original name, and their distinctive, coldly methodical genius for organization—a racial characteristic which is totally absent in the other Southern Slavs. In a short time the Bulgars also conquered the Slav tribes in Macedonia, Epirus and Thessaly, and subjugated the whole country as far as the Morava. In the ninth century the Bulgarian Empire reached from the Carpathians in Hungary to the Pannonian Valley, and, as a matter of fact, Budapest, the capital of Hungary, was founded by the Bulgars. The Bulgarian Tsar Boris was baptized by the apostles Cyril and Method, who also introduced the Slav liturgy in Bulgaria. The Slav dialect spoken between Constantinople and Salonika was adopted as the literary language, and the Glagolitza (Glagolithic alphabet) and eventually the Cyrillitza (Cyrillic alphabet) were introduced. This fact is of world-wide importance, for on this foundation rests the whole subsequent intellectual development of Russia and the Balkan Peninsula—in fact, of Eastern Europe. Under Simeon the Great (893-927) Slav literature reached its zenith—its golden age. The Moravian monks, who were driven out by Svatopluk, found a hospitable welcome in the monasteries around the Lake of Ochrida, and developed great literary activity. The Southern Slav monasteries sent monks and books to Russia, and thus they became the first instructors of their mighty brothers in the North. Still later, the Macedonian Empire was founded and the Emperor Samoilo resided in Ochrida. He, however, was soon overthrown by the Byzantine Emperor Basil II. in the Battle of Belassitza (1018). But the Bulgarian Empire recovered again under Tsar Ivan Asen II. (1218-1271) and had reached the zenith of its power when it was shattered for centuries by the invading Turks (1391).

The central Southern Slav (Serbian) countries—Illyria, Moesia, and Dalmatia—for a long time remained broken up into separate counties. Not before the twelfth century did Rasa become the centre of a Serbian state, founded by Stefan Nemanya (1165), to whom the Serbs owe the famous Nemanya dynasty. After their victory over the Byzantines at Kossovo the Serbs penetrated further and further south towards Macedonia. Under Dušan Silni (1331-1355) Serbian power reached its meridian. He organized the nation into a state and gave the people good laws. In his time Serbia reached from the Save and the Danube to the Gulf of Corinth, and from the Adriatic to Mesta on the frontiers of Thrace and Macedonia. After the battle of Belbushde (1330) even the Bulgars had to acknowledge the supremacy of Serbia. The Serbian Metropolitan of Petcha was made Patriarch, the National Serb Church was founded, and, in the Macedonian town of Skoplye, Dušan Silni proclaimed himself Tsar of the Serbs, Bulgars and Greeks. With an army of 100,000 men he marched on Constantinople in order to establish his throne there, and to be revenged upon the Greeks who had a few years previously called the Ottoman Turks to Europe.11 But he died on the way,—it is said that he was poisoned by a Greek.

Architectural and literary monuments from the age of the Serbian rulers in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries still clearly show traces of the high degree of culture that had spread from Byzantium, Venice and Florence. But these are merely sparks which the Serbian discriminative genius and natural ability would doubtless have kindled into a bright flame had not the advent of the Turks frustrated the great plans of Dušan Silni. Constantinople would have remained in the hands of a Christian people who love art and progress. No other nation was so well fitted as the Serbs to infuse new life into the culture of the ancients. The presence of this sane and strong young nation would have saved the humanists their flight from Byzantium.

After the death of Dušan Silni the great Serbian Empire crumbled into a large number of small states, whose rulers played a dangerous game, and intrigued one against the other, whilst the Turks were conquering Thrace. The Macedonian despots became vassals to the Turks, and only a few countries like Zeta, Bosnia, and the empire of Prince Lazar (the Serbia of to-day) maintained their independence. So long as these countries were free, the Ottoman invasion of Europe was delayed, because in the Kossovo polje (the field of Kossovo) Serbia held the key of Europe. The Turks knew this and constantly prepared their attacks accordingly. On Vidovdan (St. Vitus Day, 1387) 100,000 Serbs and 300,000 Turks met in battle on the Kossovo. The battle was fierce and the losses on both sides were enormous. The Serbs lost their Prince Lazar and all their nobility; the Turks the greater part of their army and their Sultan Murat I. In Europe the report spread that the Serbs had been victorious; in Florence and Paris all the bells were rung for joy, and a service of thanksgiving was held in Notre Dame, which was attended by Charles VI. with all his Court.

Murat’s successor, Bayazit did not penetrate further; he permitted the Serbs to retain their own laws, but they had to acknowledge him as their suzerain. In 1459 Serbia was finally crushed and fell completely under Turkish rule. Soon after (1463) the same fate befell Bosnia and Hercegovina. Only the mountain fastnesses of Montenegro remained unconquered.

When Serbia began her life as an independent State, she was still bleeding from the many wounds inflicted upon her through centuries of slavery, and first of all these wounds had to be tended. The Serbian nation, intellectually and economically bankrupt from long Turkish misrule, was in the position of a merchant—an honest fellow, but robbed to his last farthing, whose ruined shop is being restored to him, and who is expected to work up the old business to its former prosperity out of these ruins. Years had to elapse ere the people got accustomed to the new order of things, and, out of the welter of beginnings, found the way to sound civic development. In those days Serbia fell a victim to every political infantile disease, but on the other hand she was inspired with a poetic, truly Slav patriotism. Their golden freedom, which they had so long yearned and fought for, and had now at last won, affected the nation not as a political event but as a great family festival, in which all the members were united in love and joy. They revelled in their new-found freedom; the sordid considerations of the day were put off till the morrow, or left to the care of a small body of “cold-blooded” men. Civic law and order, and regularity in the administration—unheard of under Turkish rule—were first looked upon as purely miraculous, and then tacitly accepted as the inevitable consequences of freedom. The idea of a free State is only of theoretical value to the Serbs, the main thing for them is that they should be a free people. As a free people they followed their leaders—not as superiors, but as children obey their fathers. With childlike simplicity they gathered round their rural magistrate to hear his instructions, and in the same spirit they assembled under the ancient plane-tree in the Topchider Park to hear Miloš, their first Gospodar and Prince, dispense wise counsel and even-handed justice. But in these council-meetings between ruler and people was sown the seed of the true constitution of the State, and, like the empire of Dušan Silni in days gone by, modern Serbia has grown up out of her own people. And this is why Serbia is an eminently nationalistic state, free and independent of foreign influence. Perhaps in some ways this has been a drawback, but it has also been a great source of strength to Serbia. The intimate connection between the reigning house and the people proved a bulwark against foreign attempts at denationalization, and gave Serbia the necessary strength to keep herself free from Germany’s corroding influence to this day.

In every way the patriarchal state of Prince Miloš proved the best possible preparation for Serbia’s political future. She matured slowly, like an apple in the sun, and fortunately was not compelled to ripen unnaturally. Moreover, the inborn gifts of the Serbian people, which I have already mentioned, proved a great help to this process. They began to see that poetry has its limitations, that a free people must become an organized state, and that political order, though it cannot be set in verse, is the only guarantee of prosperity to the nation. Of course, legal decisions and taxes were vexatious matters, but their good effect on the community was recognized. The law expressed the will of the people and was no longer resented as an imposition.

It was fortunate for the young State that Dositij Obradović, the greatest educational genius of Serbia, had lived before this critical time. He laid the foundations of a national educational system—that most necessary discipline for a young nation—and was beyond doubt one of the greatest men the Southern Slavs have produced in modern times. In Serbia he is called “the great sower.” He truly sowed the seed of enlightenment, not only in Serbia but wherever Serbs and Croats live. Dositij Obradović has not educated individuals, but whole generations, and through them the entire nation. And if the modern State is synonymous with civilization, then Dositij Obradović was the true founder of Serbia. He sowed the seed, all others have only been reapers.

Prince Miloš, who abdicated in 1839, was succeeded by his son Milan Obrenović II. He died, however, within a month of his accession. His successor and younger brother, Michael, was soon involved in serious differences with the Senate, and had to quit the country in 1842. Serbia now elected Alexander Karagjorgjević, son of the Black Kara-Gjorgje, who headed the insurrection against Turkey in 1804. In spite of his great gifts as a statesman, he failed to maintain himself on the throne on account of his leanings towards Austria. The nation, who instinctively scented their ancient enemy, mistrusted him, and matters finally came to a crisis in 1858. The Serbian Skuptchina (Parliament) formally deposed Alexander and again elected an Obrenović to the throne of Serbia. This was Miloš Obrenović, whose short reign was not remarkable for any striking events. His son Michael succeeded him in 1860.

Michael Obrenović was a brilliant, broad-minded, noble-hearted man. He found the national harvest already well grown, and courageously continued the work of his early predecessors. He thoroughly understood his people, with all their gifts and limitations, and, above all, he realized that the moment had arrived for Serbia to become “westernized” without sacrificing her national qualities. He “Europeanized” the State and made it respected at home and abroad. The educational system made great strides and was modernized in his reign. The finances of the country were placed on a sound basis, agriculture was developed on modern, rational lines, and industrial enterprise and foreign trade made their first appearance. Under the strong guiding hand of their prince, the organization of the army kept pace with the economic development of the nation. He initiated Serbian foreign policy12 and was the best and wisest diplomat of his country. His policy towards Russia resulted in the Russian protectorate, which has proved so powerful to this very day, but it also aroused the jealousy of Austria. Above all things Michael Obrenović was a Serb, and his Slav policy was not only carried on in the interests of the nation, but dictated by his heart. He evolved the idea of a Serbia with a seaboard on the Ægean as well as the Adriatic. He knew that the future of his country will never be secure until all Serbs and Croats are united, and the ways open which will permit of a corresponding economic prosperity. Serbia’s demand for a seaboard is not mere aggression, but the recognition of a vital problem which will be disposed of as soon as her minimum requirements are satisfied.

Under the next Obrenović, the jovial Prince Milan (subsequently King Milan), Serbian policy occasionally deviated from the lines laid down by Prince Michael. Unfortunately, the good services which King Milan undoubtedly rendered his country are overshadowed by his many serious mistakes. At first his genial personality and great popularity seemed to fit him very well for the continuation and completion of the work Prince Milan had begun. But apparently his ambitions did not lie that way, for his reign presents a long record of discord at home and abroad. The party-spirit in civil and military affairs assumed formidable dimensions, and the State repeatedly barely escaped shipwreck. Milan was a spoilt man of the world. He preferred to live abroad and often left the administration for long periods wholly in the hands of the Cabinet of the moment, who, in the absence of the ruler, often found it most difficult to maintain their authority in the face of opposing factions. Abroad the king became acquainted with eminent foreign nobles and statesmen, and, as in most cases these were Austrians, he fell under the influence of the Monarchy. The tide of German pressure towards the East began to filter through into Serbia, and at times the official policy was frankly pro-Austrian. The King was still popular, but the people gradually lost confidence in him, and on several critical occasions he was fain to “save” himself by brilliant addresses to the people.13 But the Royal blunders became increasingly frequent, and were further aggravated by intolerable domestic dissensions which finally led to the divorce of Queen Natalie. Fortunately Serbia possessed singularly able statesmen during the reign of King Milan, and it is solely due to their efforts that the country escaped public disaster. The present Serbian Premier, Nikola Pašić, already played a prominent part in those days, and repeatedly saved his King and country in times of imminent danger. But presently matters became intolerable, and King Milan abdicated in favour of his son Alexander, who was still under age. The reign of Alexander is the darkest period in the history of modern Serbia. During his minority the country was governed by a regency, and all went well; but when Alexander assumed the sceptre himself, the state began to crumble in its very foundations. Mentally deficient, and therefore dangerous in all his actions, he inaugurated a rule of autocracy, tolerated no opposition, and endowed every one of his mistakes with the distinction of a “supreme command.” The rift between King and people grew wider and more impassable, and finally became an abyss when he insisted on raising his mistress Draga Maschin to the position of legal wife and Queen of Serbia. But even this was not all. The new queen, with all the blind conceit of a parvenue, introduced the worst type of petticoat government at court and in politics, which showed itself in graft, corruption, unblushing exhibitions of contempt for the people, and insults to statesmen, scholars and especially to the officers of the army. When the scandal about the supposititious birth of an heir occurred, the wrath of the people turned to fury, and, in the night of May 28th, 1903, the garrison of Belgrade carried out the sentence of the nation upon the King and Queen.

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The accession of the Karagjorgjević dynasty, who were really entitled to the crown, opens a new national and political era for Serbia. An old man was called to the throne, but a grand seigneur of the best French school—a school which did not produce debauchees and Boulevard-trotters, but soldiers and statesmen of the first order. King Peter was a Western European in the best sense of the word. He was not only of the blood of the black Karagjorgje, the scion of a house of heroes, but an experienced soldier and statesman. During the long years of his exile he was an officer in the French army, and in virtue of his social position had every opportunity of garnering valuable experience both in peace and in war. All this time he was emphatically the “one who looked on” and watched the development of his country from afar—her struggles and her trials. Although he never resigned his pretendership to the Serbian throne he was often, surely very often, convinced that he himself would never be called to ascend it. But his heart and his love ruled with the Serbian people, and probably he felt the misfortunes of his country more keenly than any other Serbian. It is absurd to hold King Peter responsible for the murder of his predecessor. Any one privileged to know him would indignantly repudiate the thought. His accession to the throne was merely a consequence and in no way a cause of the Obrenović tragedy. But Europe was too horrified at the murder to discriminate at the time, and would accept neither reasons nor explanations proving the necessity of making a fresh start—and this quite apart from the circumstance of the murder. Europe regarded the deed and not the causes of the deed; and refused to search her own histories for similar deeds provoked by similar causes. Thus King Peter was confronted with a two-fold difficulty. On the one hand both he and his country had forfeited the sympathies of Europe, and on the other he succeeded to the government of a country demoralized by the previous reign, and torn by party dissensions. It was a most difficult situation, so many conflicting interests had to be reconciled! Truly a very weighty task for an elderly and perhaps already world-weary man.

But King Peter did not come to Serbia as a pretender who has at last gained the crown he has coveted; he came as the champion of the Serb ideal of the past—whose last representative had been Michael Obrenović,—the ideal of national expansion, of a Serbian future. He recognized his difficulties but attacked them without flinching. For the Serb nation—impulsive, tempestuous and sensitive—it was a blessing to pass under the guidance of a calm, wisely deliberate king. He went his way step by step, firmly, and without illusions. Amid the tumult of acclamations that greeted him in Belgrade his was probably the only heart heavy with care. He knew only too well that the violent coup d’état was not the solution but merely the beginning of the problem. This consciousness and his patriotic ideal have been the ruling motives of his reign from the very first. One of King Peter’s first tasks was the rehabilitation of Serbia in the eyes of Europe. Unjustly enough the entire responsibility for the loss of Serbia’s prestige was laid to his charge, and it was uphill work to alter the opinion of Europe, but he refrained from protestations and excuses. He realized that Serbia must be regenerated in such a fashion as to win back the full confidence of Europe. By the wisdom of his policy and with the help of able statesmen—principally Nikola Pašić—he steered Serbia’s foreign policy back into a healthy, normal channel, and within a few years the country once more took her position as a well-ordered European State—apart from the calumnies and enmity of Germany and Austria. In fact, this successful reconstruction was proof in the eyes of Europe that the dynastic change was a necessity for Serbia, and that in the solution of the Balkan problem she might certainly be trusted to take her part of the burden as a civilized State. She proved her mettle soon afterwards in the first Balkan War, for in this war the ideal of the King—which he shares with his people—scored its first great success, when the hard-pressed nation displayed a high degree of valour, statesmanship and true nobility.

In his ten years’ reign King Peter has gone far to restore to Serbia her ancient glories. During his reign her politics have become more settled at home and abroad. Agriculture, trade and industry have improved and expanded. Literature and art have made miraculous strides, so that Serbia may fairly consider herself the equal of the Western nations; and the Serbian army has now demonstrated its excellent organization and great military value in three successive wars.

King Peter, whose short reign became so stormy towards the end, may look back on the results of his labours with the same calm assurance with which he took up the sceptre. He has quickened the new soul of Serbia, and although he retired shortly before the outbreak of the present war, and entrusted the sceptre to his son, his spirit still lives in his people and army and—please God—will lead them both to victory. IV.

Serbian relations with Austria have been an important, and indeed the decisive, factor in recent Serb history; and the events which are the outcome of these relations will either bring about the territorial consolidation of Serbia or her final ruin. Austria-Hungary was never a well-wisher of Serbia, although she has often brazenly posed as her benefactor. It has always been Austria’s aim to detach Serbia from Russian influence, and to bring her under the soul-saving protectorate of the Monarchy. The nearest road to Salonika lies through Serbia, and at all costs this route had to be secured. If only Serbia could be made dependent upon Austria-Hungary, it would be much better for the aims of Germanistic expansive policy; it would also paralyse the Southern Slavs in the Monarchy. Knowing that the Great Powers, especially Russia, would never permit an effective occupation of Serbia, Austria sought by intrigues in the spirit of Metternich to make her influence predominant in Serbia, also economically to weaken her as a state, by vexatious commercial treaties in the hope of rendering her more amenable towards the Monarchy. Serbia bravely resisted all these attempts and suffered considerable material loss; but she stood firm in the knowledge that she is the first and strongest fortress in the way of German pressure towards the East, and staunchly believed in the ultimate success of her cause. The brave little country had a mission to fulfil, not only in her own interest, but in that of the Slav race and the whole of Europe. Vienna and Berlin knew that Serbia was a very hard nut, but they felt confident of cracking it in the end. When open aggression failed, they put a good face on the matter, and assured the hard-pressed Serbs of their kind intentions. The occupation of Bosnia and Hercegovina was the first tangible proof of these kind intentions, for on that occasion Austria “delivered” two million Serbs and Croats from Turkish bondage. Unfortunately Serbia did not in the least appreciate this “benefit,” whereby a large number of her kindred were handed over to the tender mercies of Austria, whose solicitous care of her Southern Slav subjects was only too well known—in fact, instead of being grateful, Serbia never ceased to point out her own national and territorial claims upon Bosnia and Hercegovina. Naturally this insolent attitude on the part of Serbia provoked the animosity, and presently the official disfavour, of Austria. This disfavour was displayed on every possible occasion although it always wore a sanctimonious garb. Serbia was too weak and unprepared to retort aggressively upon this animosity; her defence was limited to diplomatic measures and the moral support of Russia. It was a marvellous achievement on the part of her statesmen that in the face of strong popular feeling they so long staved off an open rupture; and that they did not let the thirty-five years of misgovernment in Bosnia and Hercegovina, or the oppression of the Southern Slavs, drive them to a desperate decision. The influence of European diplomacy was doubtless very helpful; still, the Serbian people displayed admirable restraint under constant provocation. Germany and Austria, who are able to corrupt the greater part of their own Press, and even many foreign newspapers, and can command a whole staff of political agitators, never relaxed their campaign of abuse and calumny against Serbia, and everywhere represented her as an incapable, barbarous, and dangerous State. In this they were only too successful. Unfortunately the condition of Serbian home politics has often been deplorable, and in addition to this the murder of the King and Queen in 1903 provided ample material for biassing public opinion in Europe. On the whole Europe endorsed these calumnies and refused to listen to the counter-protestations of Russia and other Slavs, because the testimony of barbarians and troglodytes was obviously valueless. Serbia was frequently reduced to desperate straits. She was really defending the cause of civilization by stemming the tide of Germanism in the East—she was preparing a great world-work, and her reward was merely contempt or a pitying smile. Without Russia’s moral support she must have been swamped by Austria long ago.

With the annexation of Bosnia and Hercegovina in 1909 and the disgraceful circumstances that preceded it (which I shall touch upon in a later chapter), the mutual enmity between Austria and Serbia reached its height. War between Austria-Hungary on the one hand and Russia and Serbia on the other, seemed imminent, and was only averted by the intervention of European diplomacy, especially by the efforts of Sir Edward Grey. In a declaration dated March 31st, 1909, Serbia acknowledged the annexation as an accomplished fact, and promised henceforth to conduct her policy in a neighbourly and friendly spirit towards Austria. This was the last act of self-abasement extorted from the unhappy country, but by no means the end of hostile agitations. On the contrary, these only became more virulent, because Austria considered the annexation of Bosnia and Hercegovina merely a prelude to the invasion of Serbia. Hence the necessity of representing Serbia as a menace to the peace of Europe, and especially to the position of the Monarchy as a Great Power. Serbia’s prestige declined still further. But suddenly a new contingency arose, and the Balkan War of 1912 brought to light a series of glorious proofs of heroism, self-control, statesmanship, and military and national ability on the part of Serbia. The contempt of Europe was transformed into admiration, and Serbia suddenly found herself appreciated at her true value. This was a blow Austria could not forgive, and still less the fact that the criminal blunder of the second Balkan War, whereby she fondly hoped that Serbia would be crushed, proved unsuccessful. A strong and respected Serbia was a thorn in the flesh to Austria and a disquieting influence among her Southern Slav subjects. Henceforth the Viennese Foreign Office concentrated its efforts on the destruction of Serbia at all costs. First of all Serbia was confronted with a demand for such trade concessions as would render her economically dependent upon Austria, and the next commercial treaty was to have placed Austria in the position of a “most favoured nation.” In politics Austria had recourse to the invention of the spectre of a “Greater Serbia,”—an idea which hitherto had merely possessed intellectual significance, and whose representatives were a few hot-heads quite unconnected with Serbian official policy. To make this new propaganda convincing Austria employed a large number of agents provocateurs, whose masterpiece appears to have been the attempt upon the Archduke Francis Ferdinand at Serajevo, June 28th, 1914. Truly, when all the side-issues are taken into account, it seems more than likely that the attempt at least was staged by Austrian agents. Was the assassination merely an accident?14 It is to be feared that this is one of the unhappy mysteries which will never be fully cleared up.

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The Country of the Black Mountain—Women Warriors—King, Poet and Farmer—Historical Sketch of Montenegro—Petar I., Petrović—Petar II.—Pro-Russian Policy—A Royal Poet—Nikola I.

All I have said about Serbia applies equally to Montenegro. The nations are one and the same: they are identical in every respect and only geographically divided. Montenegro is the Serbian advance guard on the Adriatic. It is the eagle’s nest of Europe, the loftiest symbol of freedom and independence. Nature herself has given this people an impregnable fortress, and placed in their hands the keys of Southern Slav liberty. From the height of their barren Black Mountains the valiant high-spirited Montenegrin has looked down for centuries on the rise and fall of his kinsmen all around him. In all the tragedies that have passed in the shadow of his eyrie he has played his part, both as dauntless warrior, and the bard of freedom who from his mountain heights sang the song of the future to his enslaved brothers. The Montenegrin has always been the same. In war-time130 he is a warrior, in times of peace a shepherd armed to the teeth. He is inseparable from his weapons, but only uses them against his enemies. Though his aspect is martial and his glance fierce, he bears a kindly, loveable heart. Comparing his outward appearance with his soul, one might call him a lion with the heart of a dove. A friend, whoever he may be, is welcomed with open arms, and his rough, powerful hand can be gently caressing as a child’s. But an enemy will be crushed by its weight; for the Montenegrin hates his foe, hates him passionately, fiercely and implacably, and he is ever on the watch for him. Even at tender age the children are decked with weapons and have to learn the use of them under the eyes of their elders. And the enemy is always the “Schwabo.” The women are just as efficiently trained to arms as the men, and it has often happened that the Montenegrin Amazons played a decisive part in warfare; and, when weapons were scarce, the women rolled mighty rocks from the heights down upon their enemies. Fighting is a grim pleasure to the Montenegrin in war-time, and his recreation in times of peace. Whoever has travelled in the Montenegrin mountains cannot fail often to have noticed two goatherds in the midst of their herds, fencing with their “Handzars” (the sheathless scimitar of the Montenegrins) and not far off two goat-girls similarly engaged.

The Montenegrin is not a great farmer. The soil is poor and barren; yet every patch of fertile ground is utilized to the utmost of its resources, and good soil is often carried from a great distance and deposited in the stony corries for the cultivation of a little maize and corn. But the Montenegrin cares less for a full stomach than for a light heart. It is a people that is for ever singing, and the wealth of Serbo-Croat folk-songs provides them with ample material.

The relations between the Montenegrins and their rulers is without parallel in Europe. Certainly the King is the “Gospodar” (ruler), but he is really only the chief warrior, the chief farmer, and the chief poet of his country. The dynasty is descended from Montenegrin farmers and is deep-rooted in the people themselves. The Montenegrin does not consider his King so much the head of the State, as the leader of the nation, and relations between them are familiar and fraternal. The King is the father, and the people are his children in a perfectly patriarchal sense. There is no trace of Western European formality in their intercourse. The familiar “thou” is used on either side, and the simplest peasant shakes hands with the King as a matter of course. But in war time the King’s word is law, and the unquestioning discipline of the people is founded on their mutual relations in times of peace—founded on the love of the people for their ruler.

The Montenegrins are Serbs by nationality, and their Royal House, like that of Serbia, has sprung from the people. Neither country has ever been ruled by a foreign prince.

In olden times it was the custom that the elders of the nation, without special regard to diplomatic qualifications, should guide the fate of their country by the rules of ancient custom. Chief among them was the Vladika,15 who possessed no special privileges as ruler but merely took precedence in virtue of his ecclesiastical dignity. His education was limited to what was necessary for his clerical duties, and he knew little or nothing of state-craft. The character of a given reign depended mainly on the prevailing relations with the Turks, and Montenegrin affairs prospered in proportion to the peaceable or aggressive attitude of these neighbours. A well-ordered state, enlightenment, and education were luxuries no one desired or required, and the people lived and fought merely for the needs of the day. But, although they are naturally gifted, the nation could not develop without any means of education; and, apart from the art of war they were simple and unlettered as children. Mere adventurers have several times taken advantage of this simplicity. The most flagrant instance was that of Stjepan Mali, a Russian swindler, who gave himself out to be a scion of the Vojevode family Petrović and proclaimed himself lord of Montenegro.

Affairs improved when Vladikas of Crnojević family were succeeded by Vladikas of the true Petrović stock in the leadership of the country. The first of these, Petar I., Petrović, was still content to follow in the footsteps of his predecessors, and influenced the education of his people only in so far as he himself was cultured. His immediate successor Petar II., Petrović Njegoš, earned undying fame in the history of Montenegro.

Petar II. became Vladika and Gospodar of Montenegro at the age of seventeen. At the time of his accession he was scarcely more than a Montenegrin peasant lad, accustomed to dealing with attacks from the Turks, but otherwise without education. The young ruler knew nothing whatever of system or the deeper meaning of learning and education, when he took the helm. Times were troubled and difficult, for, even in Montenegro opinions were divided. There were several other pretenders—not so much because of internal dissensions as in consequence of foreign intrigue. It was not a matter of indifference for the neighbouring states whether the ruler of Montenegro was their friend and tool, or whether he was a man of independent personality and inclined to follow Montenegrin tradition in considering Russia. The Sandjaks of Skutari and Hercegovina (at that time still the Sandjak Novipazar) were Montenegro’s vulnerable point. For nearly a century Montenegro had already sought ways and means of extending her territory as far as the frontier of modern Serbia. Moreover, from the days of Peter the Great an idea had existed that, with the help of the Serbs of Old Serbia, and the Serbs and Croats of Bosnia and Hercegovina, Montenegro should prepare the way for the emancipation of her kindred from the Turkish yoke. Poverty, however, lack of numbers on the part of Montenegro, and the vacillations of Russian diplomacy frustrated these plans, and Vladika Petar I. did not feel strong enough to embark on this enterprise. Petar II. realized that, before Montenegro could hope to attempt this task, she would have to strengthen her hands—and those of her brothers awaiting liberation—by a thorough-going pro-Russian policy, which would secure them the protection of the Russian Empire. She must also provide her children with the means of education. He knew well that nothing can be done with an unlettered people. The lines laid down by him were quite correct. Russian society understood the Prince’s aims and gave him sufficient financial assistance for the foundation of schools, etc., and Russian diplomacy supported him strongly in his politics. Petar II. set about his educational mission with devotion and perseverance, and even found time to complete his own studies. When he attained to man’s estate he was already famous as one of the finest of the Southern Slav poets, and as one of the patrons of culture among the oppressed Slav peoples.16 But his path was by no means strewn with roses. The very strength of his independent personality laid him open to insidious intrigues. True, he followed Russia’s advice, but, while he was still a youth, full of the healthy, impetuous ardour of his mountain home, he often transgressed the rules of European diplomacy. Diplomacy failed to understand his actions, and he, being a true Montenegrin, could not wait with his hands folded to see what diplomacy might achieve, while the Turks were harrying his borders. Even the Russian Consul in Dubrovnik (Ragusa) often complained to his Government that the Prince “was better fitted for a grenadier than for a Vladika” (Bishop). And, of course, Vienna always stirred up enmity against him. But Petar II. remained a staunch Montenegrin warrior, and the older he grew the less he was able to adapt himself to the wiles of diplomacy. He devoted himself to his people, who loved, honoured, and revered him. But foreign intrigue began to tell upon him. Disappointments increased with advancing years, and he found little but bitterness in the onerous duties of a prince; this bitterness and disappointment find eloquent expression in his poems. At last circumstances became so unendurable to him that he thought of abdicating, and was probably only deterred from his purpose by his ardent love for his people. For, despite all vexations, he cannot have failed to see that his presence was not useless and that his work and activities were bringing a blessing to his people and laying the foundations of the future.

His nephew and successor, Danilo I., was the last “Vladika” on the Montenegrin throne. He was far better versed in the arts of diplomacy, but his reign will never rival that of his uncle in importance. He fell a victim to assassination in 1860 at Kotor (Cattaro) and was succeeded by his nephew Nikola I., the first secular prince of Montenegro.

In Nikola I. fate bestowed upon Montenegro a ruler with a remarkably strong character and first-rate diplomatic talent. The country was re-organized from within, without giving offence to any of the sacred traditions of the Montenegrins. In Nikola’s foreign policy veritable masterpieces were achieved from time to time. Without departing from the traditional pro-Russian policy Nikola established excellent relations with all non-Slav states, especially with Austria, and made the utmost use of every opportunity whereby his country and people might benefit. A man of great personal charm, highly cultured and refined, Nikola I. has enthusiastic friends and admirers in every part of the world. The unity of the Southern Slavs is one of his favourite ideals, and he has laboured unceasingly to promote this cause. His personal relationship to several of the Royal Houses of Europe made it possible for him to work effectively and win friends for the Slav cause where another might have failed to do so.

What Nikola I. has done for Montenegro during the fifty years of his reign is more or less generally known. The education of the people, which began under Petar II., has made splendid progress under Nikola I., and to-day Montenegro can boast a large number of statesmen, poets, scholars and men of letters for so small a country. When the Balkan crisis arrived, Nikola, then already King of Montenegro, true to the spirit of his fathers, unhesitatingly and enthusiastically placed himself and his people at the disposal of Serbia and won glorious victories, in consequence of which his territories were considerably enlarged. After the Balkan War, King Nikola surely looked forward to a time of peace and prosperity. But his hopes were doomed to disappointment, for recent events have called him to another and more important task.

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I. A Homogeneous People—A Militant Past—The Bogumili—National Bondage—Napoleon—Illyrism—Agreement with Hungary—Count Khuen-Hedervary.

II. The greatest representative of the Southern Slavs—Strossmayer’s generosity and courage—Fall of Count Khuen-Hedervary—Death of Strossmayer.

III. False Dawn—Conference of Fiume—Ban Paul Rauch—Monster Trial in Zagreb—The Friedjung Case—Cuvaj—Frano Supilo.

IV. Dalmatia, Istria, Carniola—The Italian Element—Bosnia-Hercegovina—Conclusion.

The whole south of the Dual Monarchy is inhabited by Slavs. The Kingdoms of Croatia, Slavonia, and Dalmatia, with the Duchy of Carniola, Istria, and Bosnia-Hercegovina—these, comprising a population of about seven millions, belong almost exclusively to one race. Whereas in all other countries of the Monarchy (especially in Hungary and Bohemia) the different races are represented in varying percentages, the non-Slav population in Croatia, Slavonia, Bosnia and Hercegovina amounts only to about 5-1/2 per cent., in Carniola and Istria to 4 per cent., and in Dalmatia only to 2 per cent. The considerable number of Croats and Slovenes (750,000) living in Southern Hungary (in Torontal, Bacs-Bodrog and Temes) must be added to the above-mentioned seven millions.

Ethnologically speaking, the inhabitants of all these countries form one people, and are a brother nation to the Serbs in the Kingdoms of Serbia and Montenegro. Their language, customs, historical past and achievements in art, science and literature, are identical. The sole difference between them is that the Croats and Slovenes are Catholics, while part of the inhabitants of Bosnia are Mohammedans. Those confessing the Serbo-Orthodox faith (more than a third of the population) also own to the national name and call themselves Serbs. This compact and homogeneous national body would certainly have become a most important factor in the Monarchy had they not been cut in two by administrative policy. Here as elsewhere throughout all her dominions Austria has applied her principle of dividing and dismembering, and the Southern Slav provinces were shared between two spheres of power. Croatia and Slavonia were allotted to the Hungarian; Carniola, Dalmatia and Istria to the Austrian sphere, and a mixed Austrian and Hungarian administration was introduced in Bosnia and Hercegovina. This system made a unanimous political rally of the Southern Slavs quite impossible, and provided German and Magyar propaganda with a more manageable field of operations. In both spheres unremitting efforts were devoted to the task of eliminating the Southern Slav element, stifling Slav thought, and transforming the Slavs into slaves. But the Southern Slav is endowed with unusual tenacity; the most zealous efforts on the part of the Government were frustrated by his dogged resistance, and they merely defeated their own ends. German “kultur” and Magyar lack of culture were held in equal abomination by the Slav nations upon whom they were to be inflicted, and the ruthless spoliation to which they were likewise subjected engendered a deep-seated animosity. The Northern Slavs, who possess more practical business capacity than the Southern, did not allow themselves to be economically strangled, and even contrived to hold their own in this respect; whereas the Southern Slavs, being mainly an agricultural people, found themselves the helpless victims of Austrian and Hungarian rapacity. Dalmatia, one of the loveliest spots in Europe, has for the last century known no privilege except that of paying taxes, and Austria’s mal-administration of that country has become proverbial. Croatia and Slavonia fare little better. They have to pay 56 per cent. of their revenues to Hungary. This tax figures under the head of “contributions to mutual interests,” chiefly represented by the railways and the postal system. The net annual income from these two sources amounts to 250 million Kr., but of this Croatia never receives a penny! The net profit all goes to Hungary who brazenly employs it to subvention the Magyar propaganda in Croatia. The condition of Carniola and Istria is almost as deplorable as that of Dalmatia, and in Bosnia and Hercegovina the Austro-Hungarian Government has for thirty-five years built villages “after the pattern of Potemkin,” for the edification of foreign journalists, while the people have been left to starve, or sink into poverty and ignorance. The numerous foreign tourists who have travelled in these beautiful countries have seen nothing of Austria’s “work of civilization,” as they are kept to the beaten tracks specially prepared for them, and they only see the country like a carefully staged panorama on the films of the Royal and Imperial State Cinematograph! But had these travellers caught a glimpse of the abject misery of the people, their pleasure in these beautiful countries would have been spoilt, and they would have better understood why the inhabitants are rebelling against the “blessing” of Austro-Hungarian rule.

It is much easier to understand why the political horizon in the Southern Slav corner of Europe is always clouded if one is given a clearer view of the Chartered rights, as opposed to the actual position, held by the Southern Slavs in the Monarchy; but this view is not usually obtained through the official channels of Vienna and Budapest. According to these, all ancient charters of liberty are so many “scraps of paper,” and the actual law merely the right of the strongest. The Hapsburgs did not come as victors with the rights of a conqueror to the Southern Slav provinces. They became rulers of these countries in virtue of voluntary treaties, and they themselves issued manifestos and bulls, in which the integrity and independence of the Southern Slav countries are incontestably guaranteed. Centuries ago, while the Hapsburg dynasty was endangered by constant wars, and especially during the Turkish invasion, these guarantees were faithfully observed. But with the altered conditions of affairs the Southern Slavs had to wage a bitter struggle for their rights.

Of all this group Croatia-Slavonia alone still retains the slightest degree of autonomy, while the countries belonging to Austria have been deprived of every vestige of self-government, and only appear to be distinct dominions in the State by their mock Landtags, whose decisions are almost invariably disregarded. Croatia-Slavonia, which belongs to Hungary, has to this day at least theoretically maintained her political independence. Croatia was once more guaranteed this independence by the agreement between herself and Hungary in 1868. When the Hapsburg Empire was reconstructed in 1867 the constitutional independence of Croatia could not be set aside, especially as this reconstruction was founded on the Pragmatic Sanction, which provided for the separate constitutional independence of Croatia under guarantee of the Royal Oath. Moreover, the events of the revolution of 1848 were still too fresh in the memories of the Hungarian statesmen who had laboured for the establishment of Hungary’s State Constitution from 1861 till 1867, and in their dealings with Croatia they did not dare to repeat the mistakes they had made in 1847 and 1848. Francis Deak, the chief of these statesmen, knew very well that the catastrophe that overtook Hungary in 1848 would never have been so great, if the Croatian national forces had fought side by side with Hungary. Thus it was his wish to conclude a lasting peace with Croatia on a just basis. Under Deak’s influence, and with the co-operation of Croatia’s leading representatives, an agreement was concluded which assured Croatia the position of a State enjoying equal rights with Hungary, with complete self-government as regards her internal affairs, a separate legislative parliament, and her own army; only the railways and the postal and financial systems were to be under mutual control, and Croatia was guaranteed a proportionate share of the revenues from these sources. The Croatian tongue was to be the official language in the Landwehr, and in all courts of law, whether joint or autonomous. The important Croatian seaport Fiume was declared a “corpus separatum adnexæ rex,” and thus constituted a joint open port. I shall presently show how Hungary kept her side of the bargain.

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A Southern Slav patriot has said that no greater misfortune has befallen the Southern Slavs, than to pass under the dominion of civilized Austria. Had they been obliged to share the fate of their brothers, the Serbs and Bulgarians, they would certainly have tasted all the misery of the Turkish yoke, but to-day they would be free, as an independent State with a right to their own national and intellectual development. The one thing Turkey has left untouched in the Serbs and Bulgars—the heart of the people—is the very thing that Austria has sought to destroy in her Southern Slav subjects. Turkish captivity has steeled the hearts of the Slavs she oppressed, but Austrian captivity has cankered them and made them effete.

In many respects this pessimistic view is justified. The struggle of the Southern Slavs for national life has passed through many phases, and has exhausted itself in many more. For centuries the Southern Slav stood under the protection of “Heaven militant,” and his motto was “For Faith and Freedom,” for with him faith was always first. All his culture consisted in imaging the Christ as the “Otac i voyskovodya illyrskyh Kralyeva” (Father and leader of the armies of the Kings of Illyria). The Holy Cross was transformed into a standard of war, and his enthusiasm for this false ideal led him so far astray, that the baptized arch-enemy was nearer to him than his own unbaptized brother, and the Church dearer to him than his country. But these traits do not originate in the character of the Southern Slav. He was educated into them and impregnated with them from without, and always by his greatest enemies, the Germans or the Turks. The Germans made a national mission of the Crusades, and the Turks usually went to war on religious grounds and called their armies the Hosts of the Prophet. Following the example of the Turks, and imitating the Germans in their appropriation of the Deity, Slav Christianity was infected by the fanaticism of the Church of Rome, and became synonymous with militancy and the spirit of the condottieri. The heart of the nation grew vitiated, and the Illyrians callously neglected their lovely land, which ought to have been a Garden of Eden. And those who were so liberal with their promises of Heaven and constantly cried, “Thy Kingdom is not of this world!” were well pleased that these things should be so, for they coveted the lost Empire of the Southern Slavs for an earthly paradise of their own.

Unfortunately this dark page in the history of Southern Slavdom followed directly upon one of the most brilliant periods in the intellectual development of Southern Slav culture. It was a period when the national culture of the Southern Slavs put forth some of its most vigorous, fairest and sanest blossoms—the time of the Bogumili (“beloved of God”) whose work of enlightenment spread from Bulgaria over the whole of the Slav South. The Bogumili were strongly opposed to the poetic glorification of the Crusades, because they grasped the fact that the extolling of such an ideal can never open the mind to heretic culture—the culture based on free choice according to conscience—which was eventually to undermine the foundations of the sacrosanct Roman Empire and lay the first solid foundations of true culture. The Bogumili taught that true culture is not spread by crusades, but springs from Christian, human contemplation. They deprecated personal worship, and replaced it by a worship of ideals, of spirit, and of thought. Wyclif, Huss and Luther are always quoted as the foremost apostles of the heretical culture. But in the Hungarian Crusaders the Bogumili found bitter enemies. Bogumilist activity in Bosnia and Croatia was stifled in blood, and the people, who were beginning to protest against the lying cult of Cæsarism wedded to Papistry, were simply butchered in the name of the Cross. The blood-baths on the fields of Bosnia filled the people with consternation, but could not stifle Bogumilism. True, its progress was checked in the Southern Slav region, but it secretly penetrated westward, whence the Patarenes in Italy and the Catharists, Albigenses and Waldenses in France spread it all over the world. It is interesting to note that at the very moment when Bogumilist culture was destroyed among the Slavs themselves, they bequeathed this very Bogumilism to the rest of Europe—the first and only gift from the Southern Slav race as a whole to the spiritual life of Europe. It was the true “antemurale Christianitatis”—the outworks of Christianity—purified from Byzantine and Roman elements. What they gave was perhaps not so very much their own as the vigour with which they transplanted the ideal and the doctrine of a spiritual life, from the mountains of Asia Minor to the West. Theirs was the work of emissaries and outposts.

To resume, during the time of Turkish power, the Southern Slavs had ceased to be the “outworks of Christianity” and had become merely a soldatesca in the service of the foreigner, fighting indifferently for Cross or Crescent. It was a terrible time of national abasement, more especially because it followed so closely upon the great era of spiritual exaltation. The gradual loss of Southern Slav independence likewise dates from this period, and from that time until quite recently they were unable, as a race, to produce a truly Southern Slav culture. Only those among them who travelled westward, where Bogumilism continued to thrive and flourish, found the way of true culture. Among these exceptions were Marko Marulić (Marcus Marulus), a Spalatine noble, whose works were translated from the Latin into all the principal European tongues, and Flavius Illyricus, whom, after Luther, Germany considers one of her greatest teachers. In their souls these men were merely Bogumili and nothing more. With them we may also class John of Ragusa, who led the whole Council of Bâle against the Pope and proposed to negotiate calmly and justly with the Hussites and Manichees. Just such a man was Bishop Strossmayer in our own day, a man of whom I shall presently speak further.

Their liberation from the Crescent put an end to the period of religious militancy among the Southern Slav people. The warlike element is perhaps of great historic moment. It certainly fended the Southern Slavs over the abysses of Turkish barbarism to freedom in the Christian sense of the word, but by no means to national freedom. When the Turkish invasion was rolled back and the everlasting wars were over, the symbol of the sword was exchanged for that of the plough, and God as God was no longer adorned with weapons, but imaged in a nobler spirit as the highest conception of peace. And, as the people accustomed themselves to peace, and once more came in touch with the soil, a new spirit grew up within them, or rather it was the re-awakening of an old spirit that for a while had been silenced by the clamour of weapons—the spirit of love for the homestead and the community. Nationalism still slumbered but, like a guardian angel, the national tongue watched over its slumbers. Through storm and stress, in spite of travels and intercourse with foreign-speaking mercenaries, this language has remained pure and unalloyed. This was the seed of the future from which sprang the great awakening; for so long as a people preserves its language it possesses a Nationality.

Liberty of conscience, and the transformation of the warrior into a husbandman, were also the beginning of a change in the souls of the people, which, while groping its way back towards its own essential beauty, began to feel the hidden wounds within, and strove to rid itself of the canker. The old beautiful mode of life, the patriarchal family feeling and the bond of union in the community were restored, and the gentle, plaintive melodies echoed once more in farm and field. And this regeneration grew and expanded until it brought the revelation of national union, patriotism, and finally the love for all that belongs to the Slav race.

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The Napoleonic era found this people already fully developed. They had found their soul and knew what they wanted. Napoleon, who treated most of the people he conquered without much consideration, was filled with unusual admiration for the Southern Slavs that came under his rule. By the peace of Schönbrunn (October 14th, 1809) he acquired Triest, Görz, Carniola, part of Carinthia, Austrian Istria, the Croat seaboard with Fiume, and all Croatia south of the Save. Napoleon united all these countries with French Istria, Dalmatia and Ragusa into one “Province of Illyria,” and thus for one short moment fulfilled the dearest wish of all the Southern Slavs. Illyria was organized as one military province divided into six civil provinces; Maréchal Marmont was appointed Governor and in the name of Napoleon carried out sweeping reforms throughout the country. Trade and industry were signally improved and the people were granted far-reaching national liberties. The use of German as the official language was abolished in the schools and law courts and Serbo-Croatian introduced in its place. Special attention was devoted to road-making and education, and the Croats were permitted to edit their own newspapers in the Croat tongue, which would have been considered high treason under Austria. Although the French rule was only of short duration (till 1817) it did more for the Southern Slav lands in three years than Austria did during the century that followed. But the main thing was that this rule aroused the national thought so effectively that henceforth it ceased to be a dream and became a factor to be reckoned with. From that time dates the unremitting struggle against Germanism and Magyarism, and the agitation for a national union of all the Southern Slavs.

The first-fruits of the complete national regeneration were seen in the great movement started in 1835 and known by the name of Illyrism. Illyrism began with a small group of patriots and poets whose leaders were Ljndevit Gaj and Count Janko Drašković. They founded newspapers and periodicals, published patriotic books and poems, and roused the national enthusiasm of the people to the highest pitch. In this mission they successfully sought help and advice from other Slavs, especially the Csechs and Serbs; they were also the first to come into touch with Russia. Austria-Hungary tried sharply to repress this movement, and for the first time found herself confronted by a united nation bent on going its own way. The Illyrist movement cannot point to any positive political results, but it laid a foundation for future political and national activity and did an incalculable amount of pioneer work which would have been most difficult to carry out under the conditions that followed. In 1843 the name of Illyrism was prohibited by an Imperial edict, and it was hoped by the Austrian authorities that this would be the end of the patriotic movement. But their labour was lost. In fact, under the spur of persecution the patriots passed from their idealistic literary campaign to more tangible activities. By the prohibition of the Illyrian name the motto of the poetic propaganda was lost, and it became the duty of the patriots to lead their politics into less sentimental paths, and enter upon a campaign of cold reasoning in place of poetic sentiment. This was all the more necessary as the national cause was greatly endangered by several new regulations. Following closely upon the prohibition of the Illyrian name came an order for the introduction of the Magyar tongue in the Croatian law courts. When the Croatian counties protested in Vienna that Croatia was privileged to choose her own official language, and that no one had the right to interfere with this privilege, they met with a brusque rebuff. Up to now the Government had hardly dared to attempt the Magyarization of Croatia, but now they decided to enforce it in spite of the newly-awakened national consciousness. The Croats now realized that it was a case of war to the knife. The Hungarian Government proclaimed that all countries and nationalities subjected to the crown of St. Stephen must be made one people, one state, and be taught to speak one language—in short, they were to become Magyars. They were determined to break the national resistance of the Serbs and Croats by force, or preferably, by corruption. In this enterprise Hungary found an able assistant in Ban Haller. A “Magyar party” was organized in Croatia with a view to reconciling the people to Magyar demands, but, unfortunately, it consisted chiefly of adventurers and social riff-raff; the work of Magyarization made no progress, but only further incensed the Southern Slavs. One of the consequences of this hatred was that in 1848 the Croats and Serbs enthusiastically followed Ban Jellacić in the campaign against Hungary.

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After the conclusion of peace between Hungary and the Crown the Croats were rewarded in a truly Austrian fashion for their assistance in putting down the rebellion: once more they were handed over to the tender mercies of Hungary. This ingratitude roused a perfect tempest of indignation, but at the same time the Southern Slavs finally learnt their lesson. Henceforth they would look for help to no one but themselves, and they resolved that the coming struggle must be fought to a finish. The Southern Slav leaders knew very well that nothing could be done by revolutionary propaganda, but that their first task must be to establish a footing from which they could conduct a constitutional campaign. They formed a strong Nationalist party in Croatia, which co-operated with the Dalmatine and Slovene parties, laid down their programme on a broad national basis, and organized a campaign of passive resistance among the people. Of course the success of these labours was largely due to the fact that Hungary was weakened by the revolution and inclined to be somewhat less aggressive. Croatia, on the other hand, was fresh, strong, and self-reliant. Of course the results were not apparent at once, but the agreement of 1867 was a consequence of Croatia’s united stand. This agreement by no means satisfied all the aspirations of the Southern Slavs, but it gave them the required footing against Magyar oligarchy. Upon the conclusion of the agreement, Croatia received her first constitutional Ban, who was henceforth to be responsible to the Croatian Parliament. Unfortunately the King made this appointment upon the recommendation of Hungary, who saw to it that the first Ban, Baron Levin Rauch, should be a mere exponent of the Hungarian Government. Contempt of the constitution, and corruption, were the first-fruits of the agreement under Hungarian influence in Croatia, with the result that all Croatian patriots—including those who had helped to conclude the agreement—passed over to the Opposition. This Opposition worked on rigidly constitutional lines, and, as more radical parties arose, they formed the constitutionally correct, though barren, Croatian Constitutional party. Space forbids me to enumerate all the means by which the first “constitutional Ban” strove to carry out his orders from Budapest. By suddenly imposing a new election law he secured a large and obsequious majority in Parliament, which effectively barred the co-operation of the Opposition in national affairs. But the Opposition attacked the Government outside Parliament, through the press. When this systematic corruption and disregard of the agreement had gone too far, M. Mrazović, the leader of the Opposition, published a sensational indictment against Baron Rauch, accusing him of underhand dealings. Baron Rauch took proceedings against Mrazović for libel in the military courts, but Mrazović substantiated his accusations and was acquitted. Baron Rauch resigned, and the Nationalist Party scored its first victory. He was succeeded by Ban Bedeković, another Hungarian nominee, who was, however, unable to prevent a triumphant Nationalist victory in the election of 1871. The Hungarians asserted that this victory had been subsidized by funds from Russia and Serbia, and this accusation contains the substance of all subsequent charges of high treason. The Opposition replied with a manifesto, in which they clearly set forth the gravity of the numerous infringements of the constitution. Because of this manifesto, the Government wished to take proceedings against the leaders of the Opposition for high treason, but they refrained through fear of offending European public opinion. At this time the Constitutionalist Kvaternik, a good patriot but wholly unpractical, started an armed rebellion among the peasantry in the Rakovica district. It was put down by a strong military force, and Kvaternik lost his life. The October manifesto, in conjunction with the rebellion in Rakovica, afforded Andrassy (then Minister of Foreign Affairs) a pretext for opposing every form of Slavophile policy and ascribing both the manifesto and the rebellion to Russian influence.

The policy then inaugurated remains in force to this day. Brutal Imperialism is rampant in Croatia, and the Agreement has become a mere “scrap of paper.” But oppression begets opposition, and during these critical times the Southern Slavs found not only their greatest tyrant but their greatest patriot. From 1883 to 1903 Count Carl Khuen-Hedervary was Ban of Croatia, and the twenty years of his administration have been the blackest period as regards political, economic and personal thraldom. Countless Magyar schools were scattered throughout the country to promote the denationalization of the people; espionage and Secret Police flourished as in Darkest Russia. The archives of the State, with the Constitutional Charters of Croatia, Slavonia and Dalmatia, were incorporated with the State archives in Budapest, and, last but not least, the Agreement itself was falsified by the pasting of a slip of paper over the specification of Fiume as a “Corpus separatum adnexæ rex” converting it into a “corpus separatum adnexæ Hungariam,” whereby this important Croatian seaport became exclusively Hungarian property. But this same period also witnessed the labours of the greatest of all Southern Slavs, the benefactor and father of his people, Bishop Josip Juraj Strossmayer.

Bishop Strossmayer (1815-1905) was the most generous benefactor of his people, their greatest patron of science and art, and the very incarnation of their political programme. He was the first to break down the local artificial barriers between Serb and Croat—the first to preach the gospel of united Yougoslavia. Labouring in a period when all national effort was suppressed in every possible way, when Slav sympathies were accounted high treason, he rose to a position of unassailable eminence, which enabled him to set the mark of his powerful personality like a leitmotive on the whole nineteenth-century history of the Southern Slavs. Born of peasant stock and, like all gifted Slav boys, destined for the church, Strossmayer began his patriotic activity, while he was still a student and youthful priest, by joining the Illyrist movement. His exceptional abilities were soon noticed in connection with the national movement, and Vienna and Budapest awoke to the dangerous possibilities of his personality. Determined to put an end to his patriotic labours they appointed him court chaplain, and trusted that the society of the court with all its splendour and gaiety would dazzle the handsome young priest, and wile him away from the service of his country. But Strossmayer made a most unexpected and highly diplomatic use of his position. He brilliantly succeeded in deceiving his surroundings as to his sympathies, and when barely over thirty he secured his appointment to the Episcopal See of Djakovo. Hereby he also became Vladika of Bosnia and Syrmia, and shortly afterwards was created governor of the Virovitica district.

At this point Strossmayer’s life-work for his people began in earnest. Holding a most distinguished position, and with the vast revenues of his bishopric at his disposal, he opened the flood-gates of his activities, and Vienna and Budapest saw with horror and amazement the mistake they had made. Strossmayer assumed the leadership of the Nationalist party; and in Parliament, where he took his seat in the double capacity of bishop and elected deputy, he showed himself a brilliant orator, a subtle politician, and an astute diplomat. He was the incarnation of a keen, but determined and wise Opposition. He also became an intellectual leader of his people and accomplished more than anyone else before him. He founded the Southern Slav Academy of Science and Art, which in the very terms of its foundation embodies the intellectual unity of the Southern Slavs. He also founded the Croatian University; and, being a great art connoisseur, he spent years in accumulating an exceedingly fine private collection, which he presented to the nation. He built the Cathedral at Djakovo, and at his own expense sent hundreds of young Serbs and Croats to foreign art schools and universities. Every intellectual enterprise, whether literary, artistic or scientific, found in him a munificent patron. His entire income was devoted to the welfare of the nation, and the sums that Strossmayer spent in adding to the greatness and fame of his country amounted to many millions during the long years of his office. But his dearest wish was the realization of the Yougoslav ideal, the breaking down of all local barriers between Serbs and Croats, and the creation of a united people. With this end in view, and in spite of his position in the Roman Catholic Church, Strossmayer went so far as to advocate that the Serbian Græco-Orthodox, and the Croatian Catholic, Churches should unite and become one National Church. He knew that the future of his people could never be realized within the confines of the Monarchy, but that it must be identified with that of all the other Southern Slav nations, and founded upon a purely Slav basis. Strossmayer did not confine his efforts to winning converts among his own people for this idea. He knew too well, that at the decisive moment the nation would require strong support from without, and, at the risk of being accused of high treason, he entered into friendly relations with Russia, which should bring the big and powerful brother of the North nearer to his down-trodden little brother in the South. He succeeded in finding influential friends in Russia as in other countries, and his nation is still proud of his friendship with the Tsar Alexander III., Leo XIII., Gladstone, Crispi and Gambetta. Before Strossmayer entered the lists no one in Europe had taken the slightest interest in the Southern Slav problem. The slippery diplomacy of Vienna—which is only equalled in duplicity by that of Turkey—had for centuries successfully diverted the attention of Europe from the Southern Slav peoples in the Monarchy, and the general assumption about them was that they were a horde of uncivilized semi-barbarians, fed by Austria at great sacrifice and treated by her with the utmost forbearance. The spectacles through which Europe viewed these nations were made in Vienna and Budapest, and no one took the trouble to bring an independent, unbiassed mind to bear upon the problem. Many Southern Slav patriots made desperate though vain efforts to bring even a grain of truth before the European public; a Jesuit Vienna and a Judaized Budapest were too strong for them. The world thought more of the colourless anational Austrian culture, and the borrowed pseudo-culture of the Magyars than of the culture of the Slavs, which for a thousand years has been the spontaneous expression of their national individuality, with a literature worthy of the lyre of Homer. Not only Austro-Hungarian politics, but the age itself was unpropitious to the Southern Slavs. They possessed no importance for the European balance of power; and it is one of the bitterest ironies of history, that for a very long time the Southern Slavs fought less for their own advantage than for the interests of Europe. For, even as the Southern Slavs were for centuries the bulwark against the tide of Ottoman invasion from the East, they subsequently became an equally strong bulwark against the rising tide of Germanism towards the East. With every fibre of their being they kept the gate of the East fast closed against either foe—not only for themselves, but in the interests of European civilization.

Strossmayer was the first who succeeded in re-awakening the interest of Europe in this struggle, and, even if his efforts were not crowned with immediate practical success, he at least contrived to cast a doubt on the complacent assurances of Vienna and Budapest. Strossmayer was a man with a tremendous personality, and his word was invariably accepted. He was also past-master in the art of not saying too much—thus avoiding the appearance of exaggeration. Even in his world-famous speech in the Council of the Vatican (1871, under Pius IX.), when he spoke in Latin for sixteen consecutive hours against the doctrine of Papal infallibility, he left some things unsaid, for he was interrupted in “the midst of his speech” by the Archbishop of Paris, who embraced and kissed him, and assured him that what he had already said was amply convincing.

Strossmayer’s activity was pursued with ruthless enmity in Vienna and Budapest, and, even as he was the best-loved man among his own people, he was the best-hated enemy of the Germans and the Magyars. They tried by every possible means to minimize his power, and agitated in the Vatican for his recall to Rome. But Leo XIII. was not only the personal friend of Strossmayer, but also the friend of the Slavs, and Viennese diplomacy failed in its object. Then followed disgraceful intrigues, and endeavours to represent Strossmayer as a traitor. Among other accusations, it was alleged that he had exchanged incriminating telegrams with the Tsar, in which he was said to have advocated the detachment of the Southern Slav provinces from Austria. Strossmayer’s reply to these insinuations was truly characteristic. Several years after this alleged exchange of telegrams the Emperor Francis Joseph came to Croatia for the grand manœuvres, and Bishop Strossmayer was one of the guests at the great reception in Belovar, where the Emperor had his headquarters. The Emperor took the opportunity to sharply reprimand the Bishop for his conduct. Strossmayer retorted with equal sharpness “My conscience is clear, your Majesty,” then brusquely turned his back and ostentatiously walked out of the hall. Circumstances made it impossible to celebrate Strossmayer’s courage, but the people rejoiced in this new proof that their champion feared no risk when it was a case of defending the freedom and interests of his people.

Strossmayer was no dreamer, but above all things a practical statesman. He knew that whoever hopes to win a final success must first carefully prepare the ground. Any attempt to detach the Southern Slav Kingdoms from the Monarchy by force would have been unadvisable, and moreover, a dangerous and futile enterprise. Therefore, the political party of which Strossmayer was the leader made it their business to see that the stipulations of the Agreement were scrupulously observed, knowing well that a strict observance of the Agreement—if only for a time—would give the nation the much-needed chance of economic improvement, and thus pave the way to future independence. In this policy they were supported by the entire nation, who by their very unanimity proved their political fitness. Twenty years’ martyrdom under Count Khuen-Hedervary had not enervated the nation; on the contrary, they grew strong through adversity; and, with their eyes fixed upon their spiritual guide and protector, they steadfastly went forward towards their goal. Khuen-Hedervary’s bribery, intimidation, everlasting trials for high treason, prison and the gallows, all these had only incited them to further resistance. When, bowed with age, Strossmayer finally had to resign his active part in politics, we saw the people whom his spirit had inspired suddenly turn upon their oppressors. In 1903, the whole country rose in rebellion as one man, and Khuen-Hedervary’s power was broken. Even he had to admit that his twenty years’ rule of ruthless oppression had merely defeated its own object, that it had united the people whom he had sought to weaken, and strengthened that which he had hoped to destroy.

Strossmayer lived to see Khuen’s resignation, and his last days were cheered by a gleam of light—which alas! proved only illusory—shed upon the path of his country; yet as he closed his eyes for ever, he realized that he had not given his all to Croatia in vain, and that the hour was not far off when his ideals should become realities.

He died in 1905, but his spirit lives on in his people and his memory shines among them like a guiding star to point the way.

The popular rising in 1903 opened new channels for the national struggle; it was also the prelude to the hardest and bitterest time that the Southern Slav people have yet been called upon to face. Khuen’s successor was Count Theodore Pejacsević, a Croatian noble, who was no great statesman, but at least a good administrative official. He gave the distracted country a brief time of quiet, equitable government, and deserves great credit for abolishing Khuen’s system of corruption. Meantime the strongly Nationalist parties in Croatia had formed a block,—the Serbo-Croat Coalition,—and Count Pejacsević found it impossible to raise a pro-Hungarian majority in Parliament. Shortly afterwards the Hungarian Opposition also rose into conflict with the Crown, and the situation became involved both in Hungary and Croatia. The Hungarian Opposition applied to the Serbo-Croat Coalition for support in their struggle and promised that, if their party were returned, they would grant all Croatia’s demands as embodied in the Agreement of 1867. Negotiations were carried on by Francis Kossuth and Geza Polonyi on behalf of Hungary, and by Frano Supilo as delegate of the Serbo-Croat Coalition. These negotiations resulted in the Resolution of Fiume (October, 1905), which stipulated for the political co-operation between the Hungarian and Serbo-Croat parties, and secured considerable advantages to Croatia in the event of success. The Resolution of Fiume was in every way a masterpiece of policy and diplomacy, and was in all its details the achievement of Frano Supilo, who was the popular leader in Croatia at the time. In the election of 1905 the Coalition won a brilliant victory. Not one Government candidate was returned, and the small Opposition consisted of partizans of Ante Starćević’s one-time idealist, patriotic constitutionalist party, which however, since his death, had passed under the control of Jewish solicitors, and was so committed to a purely Austrian Christian-Socialist policy. As the Hungarian Opposition had likewise scored a victory, the Croatian Cabinet was composed of representatives of the Serbo-Croat Coalition, with Count Pejacsević retained in office as “ut conditio sine qua non.” Croatia enjoyed a short respite and began to look forward to better times. But her hopes were once more doomed to disappointment. The perfidious Magyars once more failed to keep their word. So long as they needed the Serbs and Croats they were full of love and brotherliness, but when they had gained their point, they discarded the mask of false friendship. Francis Kossuth, having become Handelsminister (Minister of Trade) in the Hungarian Cabinet in 1907, introduced a bill on the control of the Railways which was the most flagrant and outrageous infringement of the Agreement as yet attempted. It provided that thenceforth the language used on the railway-system, even in Croatian territory, was to be Hungarian, although it had been specially stipulated in the Agreement—which stands in the place of a fundamental constitutional law—that Croatian was to be official tongue in all joint offices within Croatian territory. The Serbo-Croat Coalition, which is represented by forty members in the Hungarian Parliament, rose in wrath against the Bill, and declared war to the knife upon the Hungarian Government. The conflict in the Hungarian Parliament is known all over Europe. The Croats and Serbs pursued a policy of obstruction, which fairly paralyzed the House and made parliamentary discussion of the Railway Bill quite impossible. To get it passed Kossuth so worded his Bill that it was contained in one paragraph, empowering the Government to deal with the Pragmatic (administrative business of the country) at their discretion as part of the Order of the Day.

The rupture with Hungary was now complete. The Serbo-Croat Coalition transferred the conflict to Croatia, and the nation began to agitate for detachment from Hungary. The Parliament was dissolved, but the Coalition was again victorious in the election. On the resignation of the Croatian Government, Alexander v. Rakodczay was appointed Ban, but failing to raise a party friendly to the Government he was forced to resign his office in two months. The next Ban to be appointed was Baron Paul Rauch, who boldly entered his capital town of Zagreb, but was received with hostile demonstrations and showers of stones. It speaks well for his courage that he was not affected by this reception, and even introduced himself to the Parliament with great pomp. His reception in Parliament was one great demonstration of hostility, so that he could not even read the Royal message. He had to fly the building with his Ministerial staff, and Parliament was officially dissolved the same day. Baron Rauch formed a Government party of venal upstarts and discredited characters, secured the support of the now thoroughly demoralized “constitutionalist party,” and ordered a new election. Everything was done to intimidate the electorate, with the result that not one of Rauch’s candidates was returned. This Parliament was dissolved without even having been summoned, and Rauch embarked on a reign of terror which can only be compared to that of Germany in the Cameroons. He organized the Jewish-constitutionalist party into bands which went by the name of the “Black Hand.” Their motto was “For the Emperor, and for Croatia,” and their weapons were murder and assault, which they were allowed to use with impunity against their opponents. At the same time an organized judicial persecution of the Serbs was set on foot. But even this tyranny could not break the national resistance.

At this juncture a new contingency arose. The Monarchy was preparing to annex Bosnia and Hercegovina, and a suitable pretext had to be found. The Government accordingly invented the “Greater Serbian agitation.” The heroic struggle of the Serbo-Croat Coalition was represented as being the outcome of a Greater Serbian agitation, and Baron Rauch was commissioned to unmask this “widespread criminal conspiracy.” In the summer of 1908, to the amazement and consternation of the people, large numbers of Serbs, chiefly priests, school-masters and business men, were arrested, and the official Press triumphantly announced that a horrible, widespread and highly treasonable propaganda had been discovered! The preliminary investigations lasted a long time, and March 3rd, 1909, saw the opening of the proceedings against the “traitors” who had conspired with Serbia for the detachment of all the Slavonic South from the Monarchy. The trial lasted till October 5th, when all the accused parties received very heavy sentences. Immediately afterwards the Austrian historian Dr. Heinrich Friedjung stated in the Viennese Neue Freie Presse, that the leaders of the Serbo-Croat Coalition were also implicated in this conspiracy, especially Frano Supilo, Grga Tuškan and Božidar Vinković, and that his accusation was founded on documentary evidence. Hereupon the whole Serbo-Croat Coalition took proceedings against Dr. Friedjung for libel. The result of this case, which was fought in Vienna, caused a European sensation. It was conclusively proved that all the documentary evidence against the Coalition, both in the Zagreb and the Viennese trials, had been forged by order of Baron Aehrenthal, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, and Count Forgach, the Austrian Ambassador in Belgrade. Friedjung himself confessed as much in court. The consequence of this unparalleled exposé was, that the King-Emperor had to rescind the sentences already passed in the Zagreb trial.17 Meantime, however, the desired object had been gained, and Bosnia-Hercegovina was annexed contrary to the will of all the Slavs.

But, with scandalous details incidental to the annexation, Baron Rauch’s mission had been brilliantly fulfilled. Soon afterwards Kossuth’s perfidious Government was turned out and Croatia’s old oppressor, Count Khuen Hedervary, became Premier. Khuen, however, was a personal enemy of Rauch, and occasioned his recall. In his place Nikolaus von Tomašić was appointed Ban of Croatia—a most eminent and highly-respected Croatian scholar, but politically a satellite of Khuen. He did his best to restore order, and to this end negotiated with the Serbo-Croat Coalition. Frano Supilo protested most emphatically against this. He had already had exhaustive experience of Magyar perfidy, and had no desire to see his people once again walk into the trap. But the Coalition was perhaps weary of the struggle—perhaps they still hoped for fair dealing, and accordingly entered into a compact with Tomašić which made peaceful government possible so long as the rights of the nation were respected. On the strength of this compact several Government candidates were returned at the next election; after which Tomašić promptly ignored the Coalition and governed only with his own party. Supilo’s prophecy was fulfilled, and the Coalition had once more to join the Opposition. Tomašić was overthrown but the Austro-Hungarian Government replied by sending Herr von Cuvaj, the Terrorist Commissioner, and suspending the Constitution. These were the days of bitterest misery and unscrupulous tyranny in Croatia. Cuvaj ruled with the knout, and the knout only. Police espionage flourished, and all personal, political and civil liberty was set at naught. All this time the Balkan War was raging, and woe to the Serb or Croat who dared to rejoice at his brother’s victories. But, when the Balkan Alliance was victorious, the Southern Slavs knew that from henceforth they could rely on a measure of support from their kinsmen. Vienna and Budapest were equally perspicacious and realized the advisability of changing their tactics. Cuvaj was recalled and Count Stephen Tisza, one of the most inveterate enemies of the Slavs, sent Baron Skerlecz to Croatia with instructions to conciliate the Croats. The effete Serbo-Croat Coalition was once more cajoled, and, for the third time, it entered into a disastrous compact with Hungary. This time one of the consequences was the expropriation of the Croatian sea-board in favour of Hungary. Moreover, the present crisis found the Coalition helplessly committed to the Government.

But the people had stood firm. The dire sufferings of recent years have begotten a new and healthy movement, which includes the entire youth of Croatia. The younger generation has lost faith in political parties, and begun to go its own way along the path which leads away from Hungary and away from Austria, back to union with their scattered kindred. Their aim is the establishment of a great, free and independent Southern Slav State. At the head of this younger generation stands a man of magnetic personality—Frano Supilo.

The Southern Slavs in Dalmatia, Carniola and Istria fared little better than their brothers in Croatia and Slavonia. I have already alluded to the economic neglect of Dalmatia. In politics, Germanization was practised in much the same way as Magyarization in Croatia. Dalmatia unfortunately does not enjoy independence, even on paper, and thus her oppression could wear a perfectly constitutional guise. The Dalmatian “Sabor,” like that of Istria and Carniola, is an assembly quite at the mercy of the viceroy for the time being, who would never dream of convoking it, unless he had made quite sure that no inconvenient resolutions would be passed. As a rule these “Sabors” enjoy prolonged periods of rest, and the people are only represented by their delegates in the Viennese Reichstrat. There these delegates certainly make a brave fight, but they are too few, and their voice is drowned by the huge German majority. Because of this and also through the fault of the Slovene Roman Catholic party, Carniola has become strongly Germanized, especially as regards the administration of the schools. But the Dalmatians and Istrians are a sturdy, progressive people, Slav to the backbone, and all attempts at Germanizing them have proved as futile as the beating of waves upon the shore. Beside the German danger, this people also has the Italian danger to contend with. For opportunist reasons the Austrian Government has always favoured the Italian element (4 per cent. in Istria and 2 per cent. in Dalmatia) and granted them concessions, which have given rise to the most absurd anomalies. For instance, the election law in Istria is so framed, that 96 per cent. Slovenes and Croats send fewer delegates to Vienna than 4 per cent. Italians. The same injustice prevails in the Parish Council election law, but in spite of this the Italians would never secure their majority, if special Government regulations did not compel all officials and State employees to vote Italian. If to-day Italy is apparently able to claim a sphere of interest in Istria, this is the outcome of a chance state of affairs, arbitrarily created by the Austrian Government. As an instance of this policy, I will state that shortly before the outbreak of the war the Government seriously contemplated the foundation of an Italian University for a population of 700,000 souls, while strenuously opposing the foundation of a Slovene University for 1,400,000 Slovenes and Croats in Carniola and Istria. Of course this policy made the Italians aggressive, and they continued to extend their sphere of interest until it actually included the Quarnero Islands, although these islands do not possess one single Italian inhabitant, and these very islands are the most sacred possession of the Southern Slavs. They are the only spot in Slav territory where the old Slav tongue is still spoken by the people. This fact is amply borne out by publications of the Southern Slav Academy, and also of the Russian Academy, which sends its scholars year by year to these islands to study the language. In the province of Dalmatia the populace have themselves dismissed the Italian question from the order of the day, and the local government of Zadar (Zara) is the only possession—and a very problematical one at that—which the Italians might claim, and that only because of the truly mediæval election laws. For, as soon as vote by ballot for the Parliamentary elections was introduced in the Austrian Crown lands, the Croatian candidate was returned by a majority of 7,000 votes over his Italian colleague.

The pro-Italian attitude of Austria was and is as insincere as the rest of her policy. It is simply dictated by the “divide-et-impera” principle, because an alliance between Slavs and Italians would have been fatal to the Government. One nationality was played off against the other, and the Italians proved willing tools in the hands of Austria. The influence of Italian culture, which has for centuries been received with love and admiration by the Southern Slavs, has created an Italian-speaking zone of culture in the coast-lands of the Adriatic; and the Italians, assisted by the Austrian Government, have made the most of this zone until they have actually had the audacity to include it in their sphere of national aspirations. Thus Austria created an enemy both for herself and the Slav peoples, an enemy with whom the Southern Slavs have never before had any real quarrel. Antagonism led to bitter conflicts, and if the Slav population in Dalmatia and Istria have begun to detest the Italian zone of culture it has been purely in self-defence and for fear of having to pay with their national existence for the amity and admiration of centuries. Nowadays, the Italians themselves admit that Dalmatia and Istria are indigenously pure Slav countries. Probably the present struggle has also revealed to them the true value of Austria’s favours.

In Bosnia and Hercegovina, Austria pursued the same heartless policy. Out of the three religions of one people she made three nationalities, and then fostered dissensions between them. Her policy was especially bitter against the Serbs, who are in the majority and also the more highly-educated element of the population and therefore more able to give effective support to the just claims of Serbia. Austria was not in the least interested in the prosperity of the country, and merely created an intolerable chaos by her political intrigue in a land that had already suffered beyond endurance. Her evidences of civilization exhibited before Europe were pure humbug, and the annexation of Bosnia-Hercegovina one of the most flagrant acts of injustice ever perpetrated on a nation.

If the present war is decided in favour of the Allies—and this is the prayer of all the Slavs—it will become necessary to settle the Southern Slav problem once and for all. This can only be done satisfactorily by respecting the principle of nationality, and by a just delimitation of the various national zones. In disputed territories, such as Istria or the Quarnero Islands, a referendum ought to decide.

The Slavs have been tortured long enough. For centuries they have guarded European civilization against the inroads of Ottoman Islam, which has always been synonymous with bigotry, barbarism and sloth, and should never be confounded with Arab Islam, or Hindu Islam, to whom the whole world of science, art and philosophy is eternally indebted. Austria and Prussia are the natural heirs of Ottoman Islam, and the Southern Slavs have made a heroic stand against this latter-day Prussian Islam.

Civilization owes them a debt of honour, and it is only their due that Europe should give them justice.

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Speaking generally, the Southern Slavs are divided into Slovenes, Serbo-Croats, and Bulgarians, but of these three branches only the Slovenes and Serbo-Croats are racially identical. In speaking of a political Southern Slav State, a state which would in the future dominate the whole of the Balkan Peninsula, it would be wrong not to include the Bulgarian nation. However, the Serbo-Croats form the principal cultural “unit” among the Southern Slavs, and after them come the Slovenes. The nucleus, the life-giving element of the Southern Slav family and its culture, is formed by the Southern Slavs of Serbia, Old Serbia, Montenegro, Bosnia, Hercegovina, Croatia, Dalmatia and Serbian Hungary, or, to give them their collective name, by the Serbo-Croats. The Serbo-Croats, and more especially the Serbians proper (Serbians of Old Serbia and Serbia), have always led the vanguard of Serbo-Croatian political life; the two greatest cultural achievements of the Southern Slav race, to wit,179 the national poetry and the individual architecture and sculpture of Ivan Meštrović, have always been associated with the Serbians of Serbia. The fall of the Serbian Empire forms the chief theme of Meštrović’s art, no less than of Southern Slav national poetry—and thus it has become usual, if not strictly correct, to speak of all Southern Slav poetry as Serbian national poetry, and of the great Southern Slav artist as the great Serbian artist.

We speak of the Southern Slav poetry and of Ivan Meštrović, our Southern Slav Michelangelo, as “buried treasures.” In a sense, all Slav civilization may be called a buried treasure. Russian and Slav literature as a whole, is far greater than its reputation in Western Europe. Ottokar Brezina, the celebrated Csech poet, is translated and read in Slavophobe Germany, but not in allied France and England; because in these days nations are more often brought into contact by war and travel than by civilization and our common humanity.

Western Europe has been even less just to the Southern Slavs than to any other Slav nation; and they who have paid so dearly in blood and suffering for their freedom are less known and recognized than any other European nation, in spite of the great historic merit of the Serbians, and the importance of their culture;—the consideration shown by Europe to a dynasty has been greater than her justice to a portion of mankind. A universal conflagration and a breaking-up of the old order of things was necessary, ere Europe learned to value millions of human beings more highly than the principle of a bygone generation, or the pathos of old age. In the future we may hope to see a just Europe which will not look upon the Serbians as a nation of regicides, but as a people revolting against secret treaties with the Hapsburgs, and upon the Southern Slavs, not as traitors, but as a democratic people refusing to be destroyed. When the Slovenes of Istria, Carniola, Styria, and Carinthia, together with the Serbo-Croats, form a strong, prosperous and free, though small State, their culture will be developed to the full, crowning and unifying Southern Slav life.

This growing civilization of Greater Serbia, which may be called Yougoslavia, will gather up the scattered threads of the history of Serbian art in the past. We shall then no longer speak of “Slovene painting,” “Croatian drama,” “Old Serbian tapestry,” “Serbian folk-lore.” The literature of one and the same people will cease to be broken up into “Literature in Ragusa,” “Dalmatian Island and Coast Literature,” “Bosnian,” “Croatian,” and “Serbian” literature. All this, together with the national life to the State, will form the totality of the Southern Slav nation. The two zones of culture: the Western European zone of the Croats and Slovenes, and the Eastern-Byzantine zone of the Serbians; the three religions: Orthodox, Catholic and Mussulman; the two forms of script: the Latin of the Croats, and the Cyrillic of the Serbians; all these, as well as a few differences of speech, will only add to the wealth and originality of Southern Slav culture. When this Greater Serbia or Yougoslavia shall stand for the third great civilization of the Balkans (the first was Hellenic, the second Byzantine), the Southern Slavs will become a new factor in European civilization and politics, and the great art of Serbian national poetry, and the work of the Yougoslav artist, Meštrović, will no longer be buried treasures. Serbian music, literature and science, although they have existed and still exist, will only then be known and recognized.

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It has been the fate of the Southern Slavs to fulfil a mission in European history; Serbia and the Serbo-Croat race constituted a bulwark for Europe and Christianity against the invasion of Turkish barbarians and Islam. The martyrdom of the Southern Slavs lasted for centuries; it was a most humiliating thraldom to the barbarous Mongolism of the Ottoman Turks, and a hard, incessant fight for the dignity of humanity. It was a period of indescribable suffering from the barbarities of a lower race, one of the hardest struggles for existence the world has known. It was impossible to continue or to realize the plans of the great Nemanjić rulers. All attempts at union between the peoples of Croatia and Bosnia were fruitless: never in the history of Europe has a nation lived for so many centuries in such terrible political impotence and disunion as the Serbo-Croat and Slovene nation. Italy at the time of the Renaissance, and Germany before the liberation, were, in comparison with the Southern Slavs, in a well-organized and healthy condition.

Thus it has come about that we have no Serbian history of art, only various provincial histories—Old Serbian, Macedonian, Dalmatian, Bosnian, History of Serbian art in Hungary, Slovene and New Serbian.

The bitter enmity of Austria-Hungary towards Serbia, which deepened steadily, and finally became the direct cause of the European War, began with the Russophile and Southern Slav trend of Serbian policy after the series of Southern Slav Congresses, which took place in Belgrade at the time of the coronation of King Peter in 1904. Serbia’s new policy, after the suicidal and humiliating pro-Austrian policy of the Obrenović dynasty had been abolished, was a racial policy, pro-Russian, pro-Bulgarian and democratic, which restored the stability and order of the State, and led to the foundation of the Balkan Alliance in 1912. Serbia regenerated, sought to consolidate a scattered, provincial culture into one great culture of a Greater Serbia, or of all the Southern Slavs. For this reason it has only quite recently become possible to speak of the united cultural efforts of the Serbo-Croats.

The consolidation of Southern Slav history and culture are only now beginning, and the appearance of the artist-prophet Ivan Meštrović, a Dalmatian Catholic, is the central event in Southern Slav history of art. He is the prophet of the third, or Southern Slav Balkan, State, who proclaims that it is the historical task of Serbia to free the Southern Slavs and unite them, not only in a political, but in a spiritual, sense; and he has symbolized this ideal in his great art, which is the living soul of the architecture and sculpture of the Temple of Kossovo, and of all the Southern Slavs. When the Balkans are freed from Ottoman Islam and the Turks, when a strong and progressive Federation of Southern Slavs, including Bulgaria, Roumania, Greece and even Albania, is established, then we may see the triumphant rise of a mature and typically Southern Slav culture. When all nations shall receive their due, when they are allowed to develop freely, then and only then, the blood-drenched Peninsula will be at peace. A strong and prosperous Yougoslavia will interest the world both politically and economically; the opinion that the Southern Slavs are an uncivilized race will cease, and the great services rendered to art and letters by the Serbo-Croats and Slovenes will be recognized and appreciated at their true value. If we include Meštrović’s Temple of Kossovo among these achievements, we may fairly claim to have contributed to the greatest possessions of human culture for all time.

The life-work of the Serbian Monarchs of the Nemanjić dynasty, who aimed at the inclusion of Serbia within the zone of the then-civilized nations of Europe, failed of its fulfilment, owing to the fall of the Serbian Empire before the Turks. The Serbo-Byzantine architecture of the convents and churches which abound in Macedonia and Serbia, affords admirable proof of the results of this work, the most important examples being Studenitza (1198), Dečani (1331), and Gračanica (1341). A few years later culture made great strides in Dalmatia, but it was not a spontaneous, national growth, but rather the offspring of Slavicized Latin culture, and savoured more of Venice and the Renaissance than of Dalmatia and the Southern Slavs. Furthermore, the artists, scientists, philosophers and writers of Dalmatia went to Italy and were lost to their nation. The poor, down-trodden, uncivilized Southern Slav countries could not provide their artists with a livelihood. The celebrated mathematician, philosopher and astronomer, Roger Bošković, went to Rome, Paris, and London; Nikolo Tomasso, a Serbian from Sevenico, founded the Italian literary language. Julije Lovranić (Laurana), an eminent architect of his time, was a Serbian from Dalmatia, and at one time the teacher of Bramante; and Franjo Laurana, of Palermo, a kinsman of Julije, earned a high place in the history of art through his sculpture; he was especially celebrated for his beautiful female portrait busts. In like manner many Serbians found their way to other countries. For instance, Peter Križanić, a Croatian, was the first Pan-Slavist; he was exiled to Siberia for his schemes of reform and European propaganda in Russia. To this day the Dalmatian ships’ captains are not the only representatives of that country all the world over, but great scientists and inventors like Pupin and Nikola Tesla.

Whenever a part of Serbian territory became independent, or even for a short time found tolerable conditions, an intense creative culture grew up swiftly, even after the fall of the Empire and during the time of slavery. For generations the greater part of the Serbians have lived, and still live, in slavery. The Serbians under Turkish rule were liberated only two years ago, and the liberation of the Slavs of the Hapsburg Monarchy is only just beginning. In accordance with the changes in the political fate of the Southern Slavs, and as the material conditions of the people grew better or worse, the centres of Slav literature moved from place to place. This unfortunate disorganization and consequent impotence were the bane of Serbian or Southern Slav literature. Ragusan literature; the literature of the Dalmatian coast and its islands, with its original creations, and many fine translations of the Greek drama—Homer, Virgil and Horace, Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio, Tasso, Ariosto—none of these counted in the later development of literature in Croatia, Serbian Hungary, Bosnia or Serbia. As things now stand, Slovenian literature bears no recognized relation to Serbo-Croat literature, which has to a certain extent become unified. The great Croatian poets, Peter Preradović, Ivan Mažuranić, and Silvije Kranjčević are scarcely read in Serbia, owing to bitter political disagreements and the Austrian divide-et-impera policy. For this reason, too, the Croatians scarcely know the greatest Southern Slav poets such as the Montenegrin Petar Petrović Njegoš, or the Serbian from Hungary, Lazar Kostić. The historian and philosopher Boža Knižević and the metaphysician Branislav Petronijević are scarcely known in Bosnia owing to their being Serbians from Serbia, that is to say, from anti-Austrian Serbia. Thus it is scarcely surprising that Southern Slav culture is unknown in Europe, when it is practically unknown even in Yougoslavia; when Meštrović, the immortal artist of Yougoslavia, the architect and sculptor of the Serbian Acropolis, is unknown to his own countrymen beyond the frontier.

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At present the nation is fighting for its very life. Inter arma silent musæ, and when a nation has to bear first the occupation and then the annexation of the heart of its territory; when it has to wage an incessant war, even in times of so-called peace, against an implacable neighbour like Austria-Hungary; when the strength of the nation is absorbed in the mere struggle for existence; then it is impossible to realize the possession of a great artist. The Serbian nation has waged three wars of life and death, and always against an enemy stronger than herself; first against Turkey, then against Bulgaria, and now against Austria—all within three years. At such a time it is impossible to create a great civilization, and still less possible not to appear to the world as a nation created solely for war. Diplomatic Europe is interested in Serbian politics—not from motives of humanity and justice. And to the Europe of civilization, philosophy, science, art and ethics the spirit of Yougoslavia is not even a name. Who knows that even apart from Meštrović—who, as the peer of Phidias and Michelangelo, cannot be compared with mere mortals—the finest architect of the present day is a Southern Slav—a Slovene—the son of a small nation of three million people? This great architect of modern Europe is Josip Plečnik; he was director of the Arts Academy in Prague, and a few months ago was promoted to the Vienna Academy. Downtrodden Dalmatia boasts such powerful writers, thinkers and scientists as Count Ivo Vojnović, Antun Tresić-Pavićić, the philosopher Petrić, and the historian Nodilo. At the time of Carducci and Swinburne Bosnia possessed a typical poet, Silvije Kranjčević, and at the present time Serbia has in Borislav Stankovi a novelist worthy to rank with Leonid Andreeff. In Yougoslavia there are to-day splendidly edited reviews, particularly good theatres and opera (as for instance the Opera at Zagreb), and good universities with distinguished professors and scientific men. Assuredly the Southern Slavs are not to blame if the whole world has seen this gifted and important nation through the spectacles of the Viennese Press, a nation which is worth more to the human race than the whole of the Hapsburg dynasty—or was, until the outbreak of the present war.... In all their poverty and slavery, and without the help even of Serbia, they undertook a campaign of enlightenment in the European Press, organized art exhibitions, and by concerts, lectures, and translations made known their art and literature to the world. English literature has greatly influenced Serbo-Croat literature; and not only Shakespeare, Dickens, Byron and Shelley are translated into Serbian, but Carlyle, Buckle, and Draper have also exercised great influence upon Serbian culture; and the most modern literature of Britain has found worthy translators and admirers. The poems of Rossetti, Browning, Keats, Swinburne and Walt Whitman, the novels of Wells, and the plays of Bernard Shaw have been translated into the beautiful tongue of the “Belgrade regicides.”

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To resume, it is not surprising that Western Europeans do not know Southern Slav civilization, when many rich fields of this culture still remain “buried treasures” to the Southern Slavs themselves. The Serbo-Croat and Slovene poets, such as Gundulić, Ranjina, Palmotić and Gjorgjić from Ragusa and Dalmatia, compare favourably with the exponents of Western literature, and among modern Serbo-Croat poets Petar Petrović Njegoš, Lazar Kostić and Silvije Kranjčević are great, even when compared with the greatest. Yet it is not so much the artists and their individual works, but the nation, and the collective artistic worth of the national spirit that is of priceless value. The music of the Southern Slavs, more especially the music of Old Serbia and Bosnia, possesses great melodic beauty and emotional depth, and when it finds its modern exponent it will take its proper place in the history of music. This great art of the Serbian nation however, is not only absolutely unknown to Europe and the rest of the world, but even in Serbia, although universally known, it is cultivated little or not at all. The Serbian State, which since its re-birth under Karagjorgje Petrović has waged continual war for the liberty and union of the Southern Slavs, could not devote itself to music, art and beauty; and that part of the nation which remains under the yoke of the Ottoman Turks and the Hapsburgs felt still less inclined to do so. The priceless treasures of popular song have not yet been artistically exploited. Thus their own creation is a buried treasure to the Southern Slavs; in a sense, one may even say, that there is no Serbian music. Europeans cannot value this beautiful and noble music because they do not know it; neither can they value the national textile art of Old Serbia, Dalmatia and Croatia, since it is equally unknown. For three consecutive years the Serbian Government has had to arm the State, and has had neither time nor money to turn the Southern Slav textile art into a modern industry.

What the Serbo-Croats and Slovenes, and even the Bulgarians, do cultivate, and are proud of, is the Southern-Slav or Serbian national poetry, the ballads and legends which the people have invented and sung during centuries of slavery. Goethe, the great “citizen of the universe,” and the first to predict the foundation of a modern universal literature, assigned Serbian national poetry a very high place among the literatures of the world, and many of the poems have already been translated into different languages.18

To understand Ivan Meštrović, the creator of the Temple of Kossovo, one must feel Serbian music and appreciate Serbian textile art; and above all one must learn to know this noble nation of Christians and Slavs through their national poetry. It is not arrogance on our part to call Meštrović and the Temple of Kossovo the eternal art of the present generation. Every divinely-inspired artist creates not only beauty, but life,—for the mind is the life—and this great regenerator of European art is the son of a small nation of the blood-stained Balkans, and also the son of the great race which has produced Dostoievski.

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Europe and mankind in general must accord justice to the Southern Slav spirit, and the historic merit and achievements of the Serbian nation. The knowledge of Serbian music and especially of Serbian poetry can only be a gain to the Europe of the future. For this Serbian art is a truly Slav art, wonderful and deep, equal to that of ancient Egypt and India. It was not because Miczkiewicz, the great Polish poet, was himself a Slav, that he sang the praises of this beauty so enthusiastically, but because he understood the moral of this beauty. This poetry has been for centuries a life-force of the Southern Slav nation, because morality and life are one, and because the spirit of Serbian beauty—barbaric and god-like—is a religion in poetry and a moral in art. Without fear we may say that Serbian ethics are the most wonderful in the history of humanity. If it may be said of any nation that it is great and noble, it may be said of the Southern Slavs. Europe does not realize the monstrous injustice she has done these “barbarous” peoples. They are rather a heroic and mythical than a barbaric people. It is only Austria-Hungary who regards them as a nation of anarchists and regicides.

What is the Serbian spirit? It has been twice manifested. Once through a man, Ivan Meštrović, the prophet of the Slav Balkans, and again through the whole nation, in the thousands of legends, fairy-tales, ballads and songs which have been collected by Vuk Stefanović-Karadžić.19 The occupation of Bosnia, then the national catastrophe of the annexation of Bosnia, and finally the Balkan War have already become the subjects of poetry, and our own time will see the latest and greatest war of the Southern Slavs sung in all its heroic reality.

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Printed in Great Britain by Wyman & Sons Ltd., London and Reading.

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