The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1876-08-12 00:00:00

iar STOURBRrDGE OBSERVER,

The Turkish position was of the same length as the
Servian, but its elevation was greater generally, with
a wider foreground to the valley and quite unbroken.
The main camp at Veliki lavor, is nearly opposite
Saitchar, but the Turks hell the ridge all along from
opposite Grljan, on gradually rising uplands. In places
they hsd their forepoats in the valley, baVeries studded
the lower ground and the front of their positions, and
the smoke of the main camp at Isvor indicated the
preeenee of a strong army.
The defences of the Servian position were well
designed. It was studded with redoubts, seamed with
b Attery emplacements, scorched with shelter trenches.
This applies to the elevation of the dowt s, but across
the rectaugular vaLey there, were no defences at all
except the forepost line. Nothing was done to wake
the obstinate holdiug of Sakchar possihle. There was
not a barricade acroes the mouth of the street, not a
gable looploled, not a gsrden well crenelated. Strange
and serious omissions these, arising from the want
of practical and experienced soldiers in so responsible a
position.

To hold Saitcbar as a defensive position satisfac-
torily, 50,000 men were r, quired, with proportional
artillery. , I am acE ured that Leschj thin had 24,000 men
of all sorts. I never succeeded in finding one-third of
that number. My own idea is that the place was
practically evacuated some time ago, and was simply
being held, as Von Pestel held Saarbruck, for mere
bounce and to gain time. I found redoubts and
battery emplacements in plenty, but the cannon,
I was told, were in store, meaning, probably,
parked. But no sane man leaves redoubts
unarmed in face of an enemy he means to resist,
lying not three miles away. Besides, if there
was a store or park, where was It? I saw
only three Servian field batteries in position. Tae
army forpost line was held by batches of peasants
without uniform, and armed with muzzle loaders. A.
few detachments of similar fellows of the second class
militia lay in camp behind the town. In SAitchar
there were some miscellaneous detachments of inslgnifi-
cant strength. The bulk of the fi rce was reported
encamped northwards, near Vraticogonac, but was in-
visible, and if there, out of place. Everything seemed
to signify inabdity to resist a Taikish attack in farce.
Saitchar and its vicinity had been long ago aban-
doned by almost all the civilian population. Men not
on rations all but starved. I lived two days on bread
and wine alone. Colonel Lesclaj anin and his staff occu-
pied modebt premises in the main street and fared very
simply. The place was rotten with filth and swarming
with flies. All the wounded had been sent away.

It appeared clear that the Turks were remaining
quiet for some purpose of their Own, and were merely
waiting for the development of events. With Abdul
Kerlin Pacha and ten thousand men at Kujajevatz,
the merest tyro could tell that the time for Turkish
action at Saitchar was imminent. On the afternoon
and evening of the 4th inst. there was a good deal of
exchange of cannon firing and musketry practice be-
tween the foreposts to the north of the town, meaning
little apparently, bat probably intended by the Turks
to distract attention from preparations elsewhere.
This petty skirmishing was dignified by the name of
battle by a stsfi officer in conversation with me, and I
fancy most of Leschjanin'a battles have been similar
affairs.

The night passed quietly, but in the morning it was
apparent that the Turks had constructed and armed a
battery on the lower slope of their position command-
ing Saitchar, and it was reported also that they had
made another battery in advance of Sastanaki at
Verake Cake, over against Grljan. The mot d'ordre
in the morning was a general evacuation of Saitchar.
Waggons everywhere were hastily loaded and sent
off. The last remnants of the civilian population
cleared out in a panic. I saw a priest attempt to
seize a waggon wherein a woman with a large
family of children was preparing to depart. A staff
officer smote the selfish priest with the fiat of his
sword, and sent him off a prisoner to the guard-
room. There was a good deal of caunon firing
during the morning, as if the Turks were trying the
distance, but no shells as yet came into the town. No
military preparations for defence were made by the
Servians against the confessedly impending attack.
The staff sat outside headquarters watching the pro-
gress of evacuation. Probably the Turks preferred to
go to work on a full stomach. Anyhow it was not t'll
two o'clock that serious business commenced, and then
for a long time the work was entirely with artillery.
At two in the afternoon the Tin kish battery before
Venice Cuka began to shell the village of Grljan. Here
was the bivouac occupied by the battalion of militia
guarding the bridge. I watched the progress of the bom-
bardment from a height overlooking Gal j an. The Turkish
practice was slow, but the aim was good. Every shot
told. The place soon became too hot for the Servian
militia, who withdrew in more or less disorder to a
place of shelter. Soon the shells fired their huts of
dead leaves and branches. The village caught fire,
and the houses blazed like tinder. The whole village
was soon covered with a dense pall of smoke, through
which gleamed luridly fierce tongurs of flame. The
Servian battery above the village in vain tried to quell
the fire of the Turkish cannon, which kept steadily
throwing shells into the villa,;e. as if to insure its
destruction. Gradually the cannonade spread to the
right and to the left. The cannon thunder resounded
down the valley from Poljana Oil the frontier, north of
Saitchar. About Postol and Vrascogonee I heard the
din and saw the smoke of heavy firing. The afternoon
drew on, and still there was no infantry demonstration
on either side, and still Saitchar had immunity from
bombardment; but not for long. At five o'clock the
battery on the lower bluff, below Veliki Isvor, opened
fire, and I could hear the near scream of the shells as
they hurtled through the air. The first few fell about
the forepost line, and caused the precipitate with-
drawal of its peasant defenders. Undisciplined militia
are not the stuff to remain quiescent while sus-
taining a continuous shell fire. The bonds of dis-
cipline were imperatively needed to maintain their
morale under this most trying of all military ordea's.
Presently shells began to fall in the town. One ex-
ploded in the Place just in front of the coffee house
where I was unsuccessfully endeavouring to obtain a
final cup of coffee. Only the dregs of the evacuation
remained to be hurried out of the town by the falling
of the shells. There was no show of an attempt to hold
the place. I had lost sight of Lescbjauin and his
staff, and believe they had ridden off northward
toward Vrascogonae, where what army there maybe
was reported to be encamped. From a height behind
the town I looked down on the final scene through
an atmosphere of smoke. As the sun was sinking a
column of Turks from the trees in the valley made
a dash at Grljan. So far as I could discern—it was
but dimly, owing to the smoke—the bridge over the
Timok was gone, whether destroyed by the Servians
with intent, or by the Turkish shells, I cannot tell;
but the Turks, who appeared to be regular troops, and
full of dash—from a distance I could not distinguish
them from Zottaves—splashed through the stream and
were inside the village. I heard through the smoke a
good deal of musketry firing, but was unable to make
but its cause. Whether the Turks fired into the vil-
lage as they advanced by way of precaution, or
whether the Servians made aqabt attempt to stay their
progress, I cannot say.

The smoke brought on premature twilight, but from
the camp I could discern another Turkish column
descend by the road past the cemetery directly opposite
Saitchar. I lust sight of the column amot.g the trete
in the valley, but presently the Turks showed thtsm•
selves pressing en to the Timok in loche order throu.:h
the tall maize stalks. They crossed at an angle where
the forepost line of the Servians had diverged from
the river, and in a few minutes more the leading Turks
were in the deserted streets of Saitchar. At the same
time the place was entered on the southern flank by
the Turks coming from Grljan, up the valley. I
cannot tell you anything more, for it was necessary for
me to make good my retreat. As I turned my back on
the scene the cannon were still roaring away on the
northern flank. Grijan was still blazing, with a dull,
reddish-brGwn pall overhanging the flames; and there
was more than one fire on the outskirts of Saitchar.

I have since heard that the place has been burnt, but
have no confirmation of the report. I have heard the
same of Kujujevatz, and believe that it is but too
true. . . .

It was a horrible nightmare that march from
Saitchar. Cannon roarirg, flames lighting up the
valley, gusts of thick smoke driven athwart the bill
faces, the heavens' lightning flashing against the
lightning of man' a narrow steep road crammed with
fugitives fleeing from the cannon, thunder, blazing
smoke, women clamouring wildly that the Turk is close
behind them, children shrieking or sobbing, animals,
oxen, sheep, goats, swine. poultry in an inextric-
able entanglement on the Via Dolorosa. Ask these
miserable panic - stricken fugitives, crushing for-
ward as if the plague chased them, how they like war.
No. Ask this man with knitted brow and quivering
lips, who, musket on one shoulder, child on the other,
strides on through the mud, thinking of the crops on
hls acres that he leaves behind, already golden with
harvest hues. Ask there two soldiers, ea-da with
bullet-hole through the right hand, how they relish war
now, as they tramp homewards, certainly not to glory.
Is it not t. me to interfere in a struggle which is not
war breast to breast, man to man, weapon to weapon,
but agony unspeakable to fugitive women and
children?

To the nightmare of horror succeeded a day even
more hearttendinc% For hours there raged on the
lefty shoulder of Urtanj, above thousands of exposed
fugitive families, a thuncetsto7m of a vioh-nce I have
never seen equalled in the tropics. Hailitones as big
as walcute dashed down among the mserable creatures
already d-enched, and standing or lying in pools of
water. The wail of the children, the shrhki of the
women, the rushing of horses and cattle, amid the lurid
gloom of this terrible storm, seemed 1.1c.3 a foretaste of
the Day of Judgment.

costume is one not violently to be admired from an
mithetic point of view, but if not ornamental no one
who experienced the performance can doubt that it is
useful. It consists, so far as it was possible to ascertain
of an overcoat of mole-skin, covering an inner garm-nt
of wood and felt. Between the two skins—so to say
—is a net work of veins, through which are pumped
continuous supplies of air and water, the main air tubs
before it reaches the body being enclosed in the larger
water tube, and by such means kept p-rtectly cool.
The escape for the cool air is through orifices in front
of the face, and the current so made fotces back
the fl %Ines and leaves perfect brathieg space.
Assurance was given that the clothing itself is in
no way chemically prepared, and is simply protected
against the action of the flames by the torrents
of water that pour over the man from head to foot
With the gteatest possible nonchalance Capta'n
Ahlstroms walked int.) and through the fiery furnace,
not only free from discomfort, but appareu tly with en-
joyment. After spending about ten minutes in about
the warmest climate it is possible to imagine, enve-
loped so as at times to be hidden by filmes he carried
out a chair which was on fire, sat coolly down upon it,
and to the amusement and astonishmsnt f the epec-
tators smoked a cigar. Verily, to quote the words of
Addison in describing a scene which struck him as
being amongst the most wonderful in his varied ex-
perience of wonders—" The artist was so encompassed
with fire and smoke that one would have thought
nothing but a salamander could have been safe in such
a situation.". . .—Standard.

THE WAR IN THE EAST.

The following is an extract from the letter of the Special
Correspondent of the Daily Telegraph, written from the
headquarters of the Servian army :
PARATOHIN, July 30 (8 a.m.).
Everywhere as I passed along the depressing influ-
ence of the war was evident. At Jagodina one first
remarked a kind of still excitement among the people.
All the shopkeepers andyersons well-to-do sat at tables
before the inn—very silent and subdued. A. blind man
could almost have felt the depression of their spirits.
From time to time somebody made a renar.rk, eagerly
listened to at first, but finishing unheeded. They
paid no attention to strangers. I could not
Had that any particnlar news had come. It was
the shadow of the Turk that oppressed their. hJ it is
at Paraehin. The same shadow has fAllen on it as I
narked at Jagodina. The fighting men seem easy
enough, as a soldier should be. Bat the townspeople
ponder awfully over Dervish Pasha's proclamation,
which is said to refuse any Christian qoarter. All
Servia knows now that the Turks are coming, and they
all believe what Government tells them, atm Saitchar
seems very close to their panic stricken eyes.
At last there is news from the front. Not an officer
is lounging or pla3 log cards under the acacia trees be-
hind our inn. The big stables are half empty, half the
wagons have vanished. No little crowd of orderlies
bangs about the inn door. At this moment our hos-
telry should beat "full swing," its arcades clanking
with sword and spur. Its court noisy with cheerful
voices. At the early morning time our gallant fellows
break into song like birds, asking, no doubt, the Se:-
vian equivalent for Curran's question: "Why, sol-
diers, why should we be melancholy, boys, whose
business 'tis to die?' I don't myself admire
Servian music. There is in it a great deal too much
of one note; but it is undeniable that the sounds
banish melancholy for those accustomed to them.
You can see the rapture with which our officers drink in
their "linked sweetness long drawn out," But we have
no songs to-day, nor officers. Something bright and
glistening, there is beneath the acacias—a something
that moves with flashes of green and gold and scarlet.
like a monstrous bird. It is the Prince's Montenegrin
aide-de-camp in the superb costume of his country.
When did he come here? The Prince has not yet
arrived. But others have visited us, though he still
lingers at Dsligrad. The Prime Minster, M. Ristics,
and his colleague of Justice arrived last night suddenly,
and left this morning to confer with his Highness; and
for hours past I have heard the roll of carts passing
northward. I know their direction, as I lie in bed,
by the thunderous growl of them as they pass the
wooden bridge bedecked with flags lying beneath any
window.

I suppose every one, in town has heard the news,
and yet how closely it is kept. They certainly know
it at the butcher's shop yonder, where the population
have assembled, apparently to watch their gossip per-
form that curious feat of cutting up a bullock with a
broad axe. It is worth seeing for once. The way
our butcher swings his weapon at arm's length, and
splits and carves the animal into joints, shows much
practical acquaintance with anatomy.. But his
fellow.townsmen are accustomed to admire this pei.-
formance. They watch it seemingly with all their
eyes, but they are talking, low and stealthily, of
something else. The women, veiled on brow and chin,
stop at each other's door to discuss it. Even the
children know, and eagerly retail it, each little girl
with a dish under her arm pausing on the maternal
errand to confide the news to her fellow. But these
people can guard a secret. Scouting amongst the
officers whom duty keeps at home, with emphasis I am
assured there is nothing new. The most of them
learn with feigned surprise and interest that M. Ristics
passed through last night—really? Where has he gone,
and what for ? A steam pump of ever so many horse
power would not draw much hem the youngest and
moat light-hearted of our friends. They obey instruc-
tines, no doubt, and persons who have lived here,
declare that distrust of foreigners is in the very
essence of the Servian nature, polite and genial
though it be. But since there is actually no
means provided for turniehing official news, one does
not quite see how a special correspondent is to fulfil
his duty where folks have such unnatural aptitude,
not for holding their tongues, but for wagging them
with judgment. . . .
But this news, what is it? The procession of carts
has ceased, and a few of our accustomed commensals
have turned up for coffee. One amiable wag gravely
describes to me a went battle at Sienitze, in which
the Turks have been repulsed after prodigies of
strategy and valour. Astonished and greatly interested,
I pursue him with questions until it comes out, that
he has been narrating Zach's action of the 14th
inst. Nobody laughs excepts myself, but eyes
twinkle, and presently half-a-dozen giant hands
are extended in friendship. Decidedly the Servians
are the biggest race, and one of the handsomest,
in Europe. There are nine offisers sitting
about me, the shortest of whom must be five feet
eleven. They would probably average over six feet
one—of weight fully proportionate. There is nothing
in their faces of that type whieh we are accustomed to
censider as pertaining to the Slave. Large dark eyes,
well opened, aquiline but bony features, and a kindly,
well-shaped mouth, are characteristics ofAhein. Very
many have grey eyes and fair hair, as have nine children
in ten of this district. And these enormous fellows are not
picked. They all belong to the militia, and several of
them own shops at Belgrade and elsewhere. You
would not suspect it on seeing them; but every Servian
is a soldier de race. That mountain of human flesh
yonder, who throws back his great flaxen head to laugh
at ease, told me last night how he owned the chief
apothecary's shop in Belgrade, and how he had to
Close it for the war, himself and all his assistants being
called to fight. He wears his neat brown tunic, blue
trousers, and high spurred boots, his trailing sword
and revolver, as if he had never seen a pestle in his life.
A cavalry captain for the nonce is our apothecary, and
the recruiting sergeant would be proud who engaged
him for her Majesty's Life Guards. Se with most
others here. I do not know that one officer of the regu-
lar army has come under my eyes as yet, saving the
captain who brought back some artillery wagons last
night, why and wherefore perplexes me greatly. He
makes a fine type of the old soldier—brown as a berry,
with moustache snowy white, and grey, steady eyes.
Perhaps the doctors may know the news. Our
friends have got out their cards, and settled to lane-
quenet, with heaps of silver before them. Be the
tidings good or bed, they take them with a soldier.
like indifference. A glance in passeng at their piles
of coin reveals a curious fact. Russia we know has
given these rash combatants no help, and it is so much
the more strange, therefore, that the coinage of Parat-
chin has suddenly became Russian. Those are silver
roubles, every one, with which the gamblers are playing.
One never saw nor heard of roubles in Belgrade
but here, of late, they haye superseded the national
currency. Changing gold, the landlord gives you no
other coin, for he receives no other. This is decidedly
odd, but our friends only laugh when we mention it.
One has not to go far in Paratchin to find a hospital.
They lie thick enough a hundred yards up that road
opening at the bridge foot. Before th:s war time
Paratclain was satisfied with a very modest structure
for the passage of its carts and commerce across
the narrow, nsuidy Tzerni.ze. But artillery needs
more substantial ways, and side by side with
the old wooden bridge they built another, and
decked it with lofty flegetaffs painted epirelly
in blue, red, and white, at 10 feet intervals.
Over this the army went to war, and over
this, alas! it seems likely to return unvictorions. The
lane by which I go opens at its foot. It is somewhat
Oriental in look, with a wooden colonnade before the
low houses and a broken pavement underfoot. The
booths, wherein are sold small articles of food and
clothing and household gear, stand open, the stock dis-
played in little bowls and trays. Overhead hangs
suspended a big shutter to close them at night.
A filthy, ragged, piaeuresque crowd surges
slowly along the colonnade. Local costume
here inclines to white—an unfortunate predilec-
tioe, since people wash less in this neighbour-
hood than elsewhere, if that be possible. Perhaps the
dirty river at their back door deters them. Their white
clothes, therefore, have a nameless hue, bstween that
of cinders and mud. The women dress their hair in
braided wings, exaggerating a fashion our grandmothers
had. Instead of the long brilliant ruching falling down
their backs they bind the forehand with one white
fillet and the chin with another, covering the mouth,
This, evidently, has come down from the Turkish
' yashmak. 'The white cloth garments of the men are
profusely braided, and their gaiters show the brignteet
tones, as also do the women's. It is a very handsome
dress and tasteful, but not to compare with the
superb effect of full Montenegrin costume, Passing
beyond the crowd and the shops, I corm) up .n large
gardens, carelessly tended, but ablaze with colour—
small paddocks of maize, and little beds of tobacco,
In each green and shady compound stand a number of
sheds and erections, built with that extravagance of
room which telle that land ha little value, The
cottage, neat enough, whitewashed, glezed, grated,
and roofed with ruddy tiles, occupies tne midst, well
back from the hiehway, and approached through
luxuriant weeds and flowers. A huge sentry
stands at nearly every gate, and overhead
waves the red-cross banner. I enter without diffi-
culty, asking for the doctor. A bright little lady, who
looks the ideal of a nurse, hustling, scolding, laughing,
and quick as a fay, runs out to ask my wishes. The
Herr Doctor is up the road somewhere, and I pass on,
with a pityiog glance for those convalescents, clothed
only ire a 16111IC, who crouch on the verantiah or totter
down the steps. All about the entrance filthy raga
and bandages are lying in the sun. They bristle with
flies. Through the small low gratings I see men lying
about naked—for the heat is painful—on beds packed
so close that the doctor has hardly room to move be-
tween them. The hospitals are at their beet
to-day, or nearly ; for such a thorough cleansing
as is potsible under the circuaistances was
m i
given the yesterday n honour of some saint,
and almost half the patients had been for-
warded either to their homes, or to Jagodina, or else-
where, to any place where they could lie. A feedi
convoy was expected hourly, and it bega,u to reach the
shady little lane while I wardsred from one cottage
hespital to another. Everywhere it was the sane
sight of. pallid wretches creepirg about the door in
their shirts, of tiny rooms pecked with wounded, of
rage and crowding flh.et in every corner. In honest wrath
with a Government wnich made war without counting
the cost, many have declared the treatment of
their wounded sons a disgrace to Servia. I would
only say that it is like the mad recklessness
of the Government in all other points. The men
who would provoke and invade Turkey without
drilled soldiers, without breechloacling arms, without
money, and without a serious plan, couid riot IN)
.fx-
pected to calculate nicely the wets of their
.11(apitel
service. And here, as in other cases, it may Justly be
admitted that those who have undertaken a monstrous
and impossible task are cleirg their very best to fiultal
it. The wards—if one may so call tLesa cottage
rooms—are overfull by three-fourths, but that
cannot be helped if Government will not . hake
more houses, They are not clean, but spirited
efforts are made to teach those whose business
it is that water is not dangerous, but useful.
The rotthag rags might be cleared away, . and 53
they are when the doctors perceive them, anti the as-
sistants have a. moment to apare..-, Bush mom Puts, are
few. In all Paratchin they have only two doctors.
Abuses will creep in where superintendence is so
Imperfect. I was pleased to see the boldness
• of a shaggy convalescent, who came to the

-
Herr Doctor with his loaf broken, showing its
green inside. And I was pleased also to hear the
doctor instantly despatch it to the provost-marshal,
with the laconic message, "See what bread they give
my wounded." But I was not pleased to see or hear
the awful row which broke out among sentries, con-
valescents, and nurses when the baker tried to excuse
himself. Four.fifthe of the lane were blocked with men,
clad only in their shirts, who seemed to he waiting for
conveyance. Elsewhere a score of bullock carts tilled
it up, and why the men did not go to the Cat t 3 I cannot
tell. They only hung about mieerably, squatted in the
ehadow ot the palings, or, with heads downcast and
limbs all cramped with pate, tottered along the road
A. little tobacco given then, by a fellew-correspondent
cheered their spirits visibly, and a very small gift
of money for the road, distributed by the d,ctor,
made them blear!' the name of England with
piteous thanks. Returning, r came upon the new
wounded, a cavuleade of spriness car:-,s, j utiug
horribly. The poor creatures lay in uniform upon
heaps of grass. I heard not a soand among them, nor
did oue raise his face. Agony made them dumb.
But each and all held on to the cart with a clutch thet
drove the blood iron their linger nails. AU the power
and all the will left them concentrated in that despair-
ing grasp. These men seemed to be more severely hurt
than most of those I had seen. A majoiity of the
latter h,cl wounds in the arm and band, due, of course,
to the use of the ramrod.

And as to the news, after all? A word here, a
whisper there, a nod, a denial, lead me to suspect
that an armiatica is in the wind. Servia is beaten. 2'hek.e
gallant fellows at Paratchin or elsewhere laugh and sing
cheerfully, but they scarcely hope now. When the
truth comes to be told which is E 0 carefully hidden as
yet it may appear that every battle saving that last of
Bjelina, has been a defeat to Servia. Point by pint her
armies have fallen back, and they now count it their
utmost ambition to defend the territory. This is a mo-
ment to intervene, and we must hope it will be seized.
If Tehernayeff fights, he may not improbably win a
fruitless victory. Their passions will ba yet more ex.
cited, and Turkey will hold it as a paint of honour to
beat her vassal decisively. Servia has learnt the les-
son as completely as is needful. She finds herself no
match for the Turk, and she finds that her rashness
cannot yet stir a gentral war. Let her pay the
penalty, then, and let the struggle cease.

The Special Correspondent of The Times, writing from the
Head-quarters of the Army of the Timok, Zitschar, Aug. 8,
says :
The route from Paratjin is over not one chain, but a
series of chains of mountains, and much of it can be
done only on foot or on a small two-wheeled ear. I
did it on horseback—a long ride of come 51 miles,
starting at six in the morning and reaching here at
the same hour in the evening. What scenery! lofty
mountains, ravines so precipitious and tortuous
as to be almo,t impassible; dense woods, lovely
valleys, magnificent trees in full foliage, and ever
changing vistas all along the route. The region pos
ceases great beauty; but the Turk has blighted
all. Such an exodus I never since the flight
of the Israelites has the like of it been witnessed. I
cannot command words which will enable your readers
to realize it. There is a village on the road called
Lukovo. It is shout one-third of the way from
Warathin. From the time I reached Lukovo till I get
here the encampments and processions of the refugees
were endless. Men, women, and children, newly-
born infants, matrons in the last stage of pregnancy,
grandsires and venerable old women, mothers with
babies at their breasts, young maidens, stalwart
youths, lisping little boys and girls holding on by
their mothers' petticoats, oxen, sheep, goats, poultry,
humble household furniture, small but wiry little
horses, dogs, cats, domestic birds—all bivouacked in
the valleys or on the mountain slopes, or moving
along the high road in search of a place of refuge. I
believe that, could all Europe have seen it as I did
yesterday, all Europe would rise its indignation.
Thousands of Christians, the inhabitants of the villages
along this frontier of Servia, were flying for their lives
and ter the honour of their wives and daughters from
the cruel and remorselese Turk.