SERVIA’S CAPITAL.

Dunstan Times, Issue 2486, 21 June 1909, Page 8

SERVIA’S CAPITAL.

(By E. M. M., in the Daily Chronicle.) When you arrive in Belgrade—the little Servian capital with its broad streets and electric tram wav's —as I did last week, after spending the winter months in Turkey’s great, cramped, ill-kept capital teeming with thousands of homeless dogs and beggars—you feel you have left behind the dirt and discomfort of the East and are once more within touch of Western .civilisation. Though Belgrade has no pretensions whatever to the artistic, the little bungalow-like houses, and even the palace itself being painted a bright yellow, the smart uniforms of the officers and the costumes of the peasant women relieve the monotony of its otherwise uninteresting streets. ■ And when one remembers that only forty-two years ago the town was garrisoned with Turkish troops the improvements which have taken place since that time strike one all the more forcibly. Many of the old inhabitants of Constantinople assured me that I should find the streets of Belgrade very bad, much worse than theirs. But in only one respect can I find any similarity namely, in the cobblestone streets whose unevenness was made forcibly apparent on my first drive ; and probably the extortionate price demanded by the driver includes the benefit which doctors affirm is derived from such violent exercise. Instead of the steep, tortuous, unlit, filthy streets of the great capital, _ there are broad level roads, lit by electricity. And during the busiest hours, when every shop hangs up its sign saying "Closed from 12.30 to 1.30,” and when both master and man promenades, you can walk with comfort on the wide pavement, lot even the hainmals (human beasts of burden, of whom there are a few) make way tor you politely. In the centre of the town, standing on the main street close to the roadway, is an ugly' two-storied yellow building, ornamented with figures of women and surmounted by three cupolas. This is the palace of King Peter Karageorgevitch, and though I have passed it at all hours of the day it seldom exhibits any signs of life, the blinds usually remaining drawn on the sides visible from the roadway. M. is probable that King Peter does not care for the views to be had from those windows, for on one side there is a monument to Milosh Ohrenovitch founder of the rival dynasty and murderer of tiro King’s famous grandfather, Kara George —and on the other side, immediately beneath the palace windows, is a urass plot which indicates the site of the palace where the late King, Alexander Ohrenovitch, and his wife, Draga, weie brutally murdered five years ago Many people, friends and followers ol the Ohrenovitches, accuse the present Royal House of being accessory to the murder of Alexander (which put an end to the direct Ohrenovitch line), and also to that of his uncle, Milosh Ohrenovitch, who was assassinated in 1868. while walking near his summer residence in the beautiful little park two miles from the town. It is said that the sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the children, and certainly the House of Ohrenovitch Ins paid heavily, very heavily, for the crime committed by its founder, Milosh, when lie murdered his rival, Kara George (Black George), the man to whom Servia owes her independence and emancipation from the Turk. A little yellow mosque in a side street, and the ancient Turkish which looks over the Danube and the Save to the little town of Semlin, on the plains of Hungary, are all that is left to remind the Servians that they were once under Turkey’s rule. And' as they wander round the time-worn and useless battlements of the old fortress the people remember with pride the names of their two murdered heroes. Besides the fortress are the Kelimcgdeii Gardens, where soldiers and civilians go evening after evening to watch the wonderful red-gold sun sink in its glory behind the Hungarian plains, and this sight they tell you makes up for all that their town lacks in interest and beauty. In his crimson breeches and riding hoots, a pale blue coat that fits like a glove, and accentuates the abnormal width of his padded shoulders, with a purple or blue top-coat faced with scarlet, the Servian officer is an ornamental figure. But as you watch the crowds of young officers who walk up and down the main street every day, or listen to the band in the hotel cafe,' you realise that, stripped of their magnificent uniforms, their appearance would he that of their civilian brothers, whose faces lack strength of character, firmness of purpose, and seldom display any extraordinary intelligence. And many of them somehow give the impression that their prowess is of the tongue rather than of the sword. Returning to the town last Thursday, after a review of the third reservists at Banitza (one of the hills at the back of the town), I heard the funereal rub-a-dub-dubbing of a drum, and presently saw a procession of dismal-faced young men in ordinary clothes, hut each carrying a rifle and wearing a military cap. This was the “Legion of Death. ’ It marches through the streets every day, and the gallant members of the hand, many of whom are not yet called upon for military service, with set lips, glance from side to side for the approval of the many friends who assemble to watch the patriotic corps that is prepared and anxious "to face death in any form” for the honor of its country. In my wanderings around the streets of Belgrade I had not been beset by, nor had I even seen, a single beggar until yesterday, and he, as far as 1 know, may be the only one in the town. He was an old, old man in a black squash hat, evidently wearing some wealthy acquaintance’s cast-off clothes, and as I watched he hobbled feebly along until he sank with an effort into a sheltered corner opposite my hotel window. Here he apparently collapsed from weakness, but soon recovered sufficiently to touch his hat to the passers-by. It is a busy corner, and men and women of all •degrees pass continually. But it was not from the wealthy he obtained alms—these, like ilie priest and Levites, passed by on the other side—-it was always the peasants or very poor who stopped to give the old fellow a trifle out of their hard-earned' store.

Here, as in countries further e.'ist, it is tlic women who do the work. It is the women who carry the eggs and produce lo market in this city, while their men folk walk ahead with their hands in their 4 rousers pockets. The women follow the plough, and not only make their own and their husband's clothes, but they weave and embroider the gay colored materials for their petticoats and stockings. The men’s garments, among the peasants, are generally dark brown, embroidered with black braid; but the socks, which are drawn up high over the tightfitting trousers, are always of various colors —red, yellow, and green either knitted in tings or in some marvellous pattern, and finished off at tire top with a border of flowers. Many of them wear huge black or brown sheeps wool caps, resembling busbies, from eight to eighteen inches in height. Hut both men and women wear sandals —which remind one of the days before shoes were invented formed of a stout piece of leather strapped or tied to the leg with strincr. and over the toes a network of plaited rope. Soldiers, too, wear these sandals instead of boots when on a long march, as they are considered to be the most comfortable form of foot covering. This, however, is a matter of taste or habit, for I tried a pair of them myself once, when my own shoes gave out on a long cross-country tramp, with the result that I was laid up with sore feet and blisters. The women wear a couple of petticoats, which come just below the knees and ex-

hibit many inches of gaudy stockings. The outer petticoat, which, may be of embroidered: white, or yellow and red striped homespun, Is caught up to the waist to fehow off the embroidered; hem of the un-der-petticoat. And a woolwork apron, after the style of old gentlemen’s slippers or chair-covers of fifty years ago is as necessary as the crimson and yellow handkerchief which covers the hair, which is plastered !■ down and the plaited ends coiled around the top of the head.