Serbians marry young. There is little illegitimacy in the country and
infrequent divorce. They have been called automatically eugenic--on
account of their strict marriage laws forbidding marriage under certain
degrees of relationship. The Serbians are a domestic people, devoted to
their children; hence, the present condition of the country is
especially tragic.
The people of Serbia have the greatest admiration for Americans, and for
the independence and political ideas of America.
The valorous struggle of little Serbia against Austria, its tireless
enemy, astonished the world at the beginning of the present war. It
accomplished hardly less for the cause of the Allies in the East than
the resistance of Belgium in the West. Yet, at first, the sufferings of
the more distant Serbians attracted less attention than the case
demanded. Their agony continues acute and terrible.
V. SERBIA: SIGHING
Then, at last, Serbia reached the sea. Unexpectedly, it is true, and not
at the point that she had long had in mind. Sad and bereft, was she
deserted by God as well as by man? As she sat there alone she heard a
confused murmur of voices, and she vaguely distinguished the cries of
children for their fathers, and wives for their husbands--and tales
echoed in her ears that were sadder, more horrible, than the most
horrible tales of the Turkish night. Poor Serbia! Her garments were torn
and stained with snow and mud, her face was bruised. Gone, gone her
aspect of happy prosperity. Yet in spite of all she had suffered there
was a light in her eyes--the light of her soul shining through the
sadness. She was not bowed down, though her attitude spoke of sorrow.
She was disturbed not for herself, but for her people. How they had
suffered! She did not try to shut her ears to the murmurs that still
came to her--children crying faintly and oh, so pitifully! and strong
men, yes, she heard the moaning of strong men. Then as she looked in the
direction of the sound, she saw a mother bowed in grief beside a long
snowy road, yet uttering no word as old men, strangers to her, found a
place for the little frozen body under the hard ground. She saw a long,
long line winding up the narrow, shelving road, where a false step at
any moment might send a man to death into the river five hundred feet
below. "The best fighters in the world!" It had made her proud to hear
this, but now how could they fight the savage winter? Worst place of
all, Kossovo, where not so long before she had celebrated Mass
triumphantly, Kossovo, again to be as when it was first named "The Field
of Black Birds," "The Field of Vultures." Now the stricken lay never to
rise again and for a moment Serbia could look no longer.
There were other things along the road--rifles, and cartridge belts,
burdens too heavy to carry far, and she wished that all such things
might lie on the ground forever, never to be used by young or old.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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