CHAPTER XVI

KRUSHEVATZ

Upon the eve of the day when Tsar Lazar was to go forth, says the ballad, his wife, Militza the Empress, spoke to him, saying, "O Tsar Lazar, thou golden crown of Servia, to-morrow thou goest to Kosovo and with thee thy chieftains and thy followers. Not one man dost thou leave behind thee at the castle who may carry news to thee at Kosovo and return again to me. Thou takest with thee all my nine brethren, the nine sons of old Yug Bogdan. O Tsar Lazar, I beseech thee, of my nine brothers leave me one of them."

And Tsar Lazar answered, "O Militza, my lady and my empress, which one of thy brethren dost thou wish should remain with thee in the white castle?" And she said, "Leave me Boshko Jugovich." And he answered, "O my lady Militza, speak thyself to Boshko Jugovich the barjaktar (standard-bearer), and bid him, with my blessing, yield up his standard and remain with thee."

Now when the white dawn broke and the gates of the town were thrown open, the lady Militza went down, and she stood before the gateway, and behold, there came the soldiers upon their horses, rank upon rank, and at their head was Boshko the barjaktar upon a bay steed, and he glittered with gold, and the golden fringes of the standard hung upon his shoulders. Then the Empress Militza turned towards him, and she seized the bay by the bridle; she stayed her brother by the gateway, and softly she spoke to him, saying, "O my brother Boshko Jugovich! the Tsar has given thee to me, and he gives thee his blessing. Thou shalt not go to the fight at Kosovo. Thou shalt yield up thy banner and remain with me at Krushevatz." But Boshko the barjaktar replied unto her, "Go thou to the white tower, my sister. Not for all Krushevatz would I return with thee, nor will I give up my standard, that all men may say 'Boshko Jugovich is afear'd; he dare not go to Kosovo to shed his blood for the cross and to die with his fellows,'" And he spurred his horse through the gates. Then followed old Yug Bogdan and seven sons in battle array and all in order, and they would not look upon her. Then behold! the youngest, Vojina Jugovich, and he led the Tsar's grey war-horse, which was decked and trapped with gold. And he too denied her, and he urged the steed through the gateway. And when the lady Militza heard his words she fell down upon the cold stones, and her soul fainted within her.

And lo, there came Tsar Lazar himself, and when he saw the Empress the tears flowed down his cheeks. He called to his faithful follower, Goluban, saying, "Goluban, my trusty servant, alight from thy steed, take my lady by her white hand and lead her to the tower. May God's blessing be upon thee! Thou comest not with me to the fight at Kosovo, for thou shalt remain with my lady here in the white castle." And when Goluban heard these words the tears ran down his face. He alighted from his horse, he took his lady by her white hand and he led her to the tower. But he could not withstand the desire which burnt in his heart; he mounted his horse and he rode to the fight at Kosovo.

When the next day dawned, there came two black ravens from the wide field of Kosovo, and they settled upon the white tower. And one of them croaked, and the other cried, "Is this the tower of the mighty Lazar?" The Empress Militza heard them, and she stepped forth from the white castle, crying, "God save you, O ye ravens! Have ye seen the meeting of two mighty armies?" And they answered her, saying, "God save thee, O Empress. We have flown from Kosovo field. We have seen the meeting of the mighty armies, and the leader of either is slain. Lo, lady, here comes thy servant Milutin, and he sways in his saddle from right to left; for he has seventeen wounds upon him, and his blood streams upon his steed." And the Empress called to him, "O Milutin, why hast thou deserted thy Tsar at Kosovo?" But Milutin answered her, "Take me from my horse, O lady; wash me with cold water; give me red wine, for I am sorely stricken." And she did as he begged her. And when he had come to himself a little, she prayed of him, "O Milutin, what has come to pass upon the field of Kosovo? Where is the glorious Tsar Lazar? Where are old Yug Bogdan and his nine sons?" Then the serving-man began to speak. "Lady, they all lie on the field at Kosovo by the cold waters of the Sitnitza, and where Tsar Lazar fell there are many weapons broken, and the Serbs lie thick around him. And old Yug Bogdan and his nine sons fell in the front of the fight: all are dead, lady, and the last that fell was Boshko Jugovich. Milosh is dead that slew Tsar Murad, and dead also is Banovich Strahinja that fought knee-deep in blood. All lie dead on the field at Kosovo; all save Yuk Brankovich, whose name be for ever accursed. He betrayed the Emperor; upon the field of battle he betrayed all glorious Lazar!"

* * * * *

On the hill in the midst of Krushevatz there stands one shattered lonely fragment of the white castle up against the sky--all that is left of Tsar Lazar's palace. But time has worked its revenges, and the Turkish mosque that was built of its stones in the town below is now too but a heap of ruins.

The church, which dates from the days of the Great Tsar Dushan (_circa_ 1350), alone has survived the warring of the nations. Used as a powder magazine by the Turks and all the interior decoration destroyed, the exquisite details of its tracery still make Krushevatz worth a journey; its delicate pierced work, round windows laced with stone, strange monsters and wild Byzantine fancies--in a word, its barbaric imaginativeness, struck me as more characteristic of its land and times than anything I met with in Servia.

Here as elsewhere the restorations are not skilful, but Servia should always be deeply grateful to Alexander Karageorgevich, who with such means as he could command saved her most interesting monuments from complete ruin. Better an unsatisfactory roof than no roof at all.

For a brief time, during the first reign of Michael Obrenovich, Krushevatz was again the capital. Now it is merely an industrious and flourishing country town, and a most friendly one. No one suspected me, although I came with no letter of introduction, nor was I cross-questioned about personal and political matters.

From Krushevatz I drove to Stalacs, and at Stalacs is a railway station. Ponies, post-waggons, carriages and mountain tracks, and the life of the old world were all left behind, and I was soon whirled back to Belgrade, where the pale blue youth in the police bureau welcomed me back, and forbade the officials in search of town dues to open my bundle. And when for the goodness--knows--how--manyeth and last time he stamped my passport, that I might leave Belgrade altogether, he remarked cheerfully, "And now, Gospoditza, please speak well of us. Tell all your friends to come to Servia, and come back yourself."

* * * * *

POSTSCRIPT

Recent political events make it necessary to add a few words to the account of Servia written in 1902. That the King was not popular I was aware before I went to Servia, but I was unprepared to find things at such an acute stage. Through all the land I did not hear one good word spoken of him. That he was more fool than knave was the best said of him. For him there was nothing but contempt. What was said of Draga by an exasperated people it is impossible to repeat. The hatred of her was deep and bitter. As to the truth of the accusations, I have no means of judging. I can only say that they were believed not only in Servia, but in Montenegro, and by the Serbs of Old Servia. And everywhere I heard of Peter Karageorgevich, so that there was no possible doubt as to who would be the successor. I was even asked by partisans of his to write up their cause in England. The only English tourist, I was told, who had lately written about Servia, had done great harm by writing up the Obrenovich. People were very bitter indeed about this, and begged me to tell England the true state of things. That the King must go, and that at no distant date, seemed certain. That his fate would be so terrible, I had no idea. Nor would it have been so, I believe, but for his headstrong obstinacy.

His father, in spite of his many and glaring faults, never entirely lost the affection of the army. He was of the handsome, dashing, jovial type that wins popularity, but the unfortunate Alexander had none of his fathers redeeming points. His short and luckless reign, which began with an act of treachery, was a series of hopeless blunders; he had five _coups d'état_ and twenty-four Ministries. His fatal entanglement with Draga Maschin was the beginning of the end. Heedless of the entreaties of both his parents and blind towards the duty he owed his country, he paid no attention to the prayers of friends, relatives, or statesmen, and married her in July 1900. He never saw either his father or his mother again, and his country never forgave him. To save a revolution, I was told it was prepared to do so even then, in the eleventh hour, if he would divorce Draga. The people viewed with growing dismay the elevation of her relatives, and the rumoured scheme to make her brother heir provoked the final outburst. The truth about what took place in the early hours of June 11 will probably never be exactly known. Those who took part in the tragedy were too drunk with blood and passion to give a coherent account, and there are at least half a dozen versions. Nor does it greatly matter. The fact remains that the mass of the Serbs desired the removal of the King and Queen; it was effected, and many of those who shuddered at their awful end said, "Since it is done, it is well done." More than this, very many hailed it as a holy and righteous act, a cleansing of the temple, a purification, a casting out of abominations; nor could I make any of those who were of this opinion see it from any other point of view. The King and Queen, they held, had sinned against the laws of God and man, and were justly executed. "They could have been tried," I said. "They could not. One or other of the Powers would have intervened, to further its own plans." This is probably true. "They could have been expelled," I said. "We have tried that too often," was the grim reply; "with an expelled monarch in an enemy's land, there is no peace. Their guilt was known. Alexander could have abdicated any time in the last two years. He had his choice, and preferred to remain on the throne. The Court was no better than a house of ill-fame, and the Servians who tolerated it were a scandal to Europe." And this they honestly believed.

In Montenegro I found the view taken of female virtue was curiously Old Testament. It is the pride of the Montenegrin that a woman may travel by day or night in his land alone and in perfect safety. But Draga they considered to have overstepped all right to protection or consideration. "All such women ought to be shot," said the elder of a large group of men briefly. The others agreed, and I saw by their eyes that they meant it. Things look so different from the other end of Europe that I caught myself reflecting that, after all, two penn'orth of cartridges would save us many most unsavoury proceedings in the Divorce Court, and settle matters once for all about as fairly. Only those, and they are few, who have travelled in West Europe knew how the deed would be regarded there, and understood the terrible nature of the step. These foretold that the reign of King Peter would be brief and troublous.

It is idle to speculate about the future. It is equally idle to pretend that the events which have raised King Peter to the throne of his grandfather can be regarded in the light of an unmixed blessing to the nation. The crime of blood-guiltiness always has to be atoned for, and the Serbs must work out their own salvation. Meanwhile it must not be forgotten that they cannot fairly be judged by twentieth-century standards. Servia has had nearly four centuries of Turkish rule. While West Europe was advancing in humanity, civilisation, and the arts of peace, the people of the Balkans rotted helpless under a ruler who, whatever other good qualities he may possess, has never yet done anything to improve the lot of the peoples under him. And should these people sin, and sin heavily, those nations who have helped to keep the Turk in Europe, and so to prolong their degradation and demoralisation, are not innocent of all share in the causes of their crime, and have no right to throw stones.