The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1876-08-24
A THRILLING SCENE.
One of the Victims of Turkish Barbarity
Tells Her Story.

"A OOGNAe
Ore of the Victims of Turkish Barbarity
Tells Her Story.
The London Daily NeaUS' correspond
ence at Prince Milan's headquarters,
writing on the Goth, says
Every tongue is charged and every
beart is full of well-authenticated It'd
ings of Turkish atrocities committed on
the inoffensive peasant folk of the from
tier villages in districts where there can
be no pretenss ""r severity for military
reasons. The men are gone from the
the miserable women and help less chill
dren. Burning, wrecking, butchery,
and violation constitute to all appear
ance the enjoined functions of the mer-
CHESS Bashi- Bazouks and ruffianly Red
IFS, whom the Turkish commanders,
keeping in fixed positions their regular
troops, let loose with letters of marque
to practice the utmost ingenuity of dev-
iltry. From the frontier districts be-
tween Nisch and Alexinatz come now
similar tidings to those / telegraphed
the other day as having been sent by
Alempics from the western frontier about
Belina. No man who is not obstinately
determined to be incredulous can ques-
ton the truth of these statements.
Officers and soldiers who come down
from the front authenticate them with
tales of burnt villages which they have
seen, the mangled bodies of children
lying in the cutters among the charred
debris, headless trunks Of Servlan sol
diers III places where there has been
fighting, men in the up-cOuntry hos
pitfalls, with noses slit by knives as they
Law HELPLESS from their wounds. In the
course of an afternoons ride, [ yester-
day found my way into little village on
the hill slope, about the door of one of
the houses in which there was a group
of women and children, with here and
there an old map-all the able-bodied
men are away to the war. On the settle
under the projecting caves, there
sat woman, draggled, miserable and
forIorn, with a boy about II years
old standing by her side, and around
them the people had formed semi-cir
Gle, and were looking on with q
strange concerned patience of silence.
The woman, too, was silent; she
of dependency, with her eyes on the
ground, and one arm round the boy. One
of the women whispered something to
my companion, Servian officer, whose
face flushed, and whose mouth set stern
ly, at the low recital. Dismounting, he
approached the woman, and speaking to
her, startled her from her abstraction.
AS he spoke, at first she was asleep,
seemingly, and Indifferent; her aspect
was that of one with no interest in any
thing. But at length she kindled, and
with flashing volubiIity poured forth the
terrible story of her wrongs, which my
companion hurriedly and by scraps trans
lated to me. Delcacy, after all, is a
relative term. An Englishwoman, If she
could have brought herself at all to tell
the shameful story of outrage and indig-
nifty which this miserable creature had
to recount of herself, would have spoken
of her degradation and its details with
trembling lip and downcast eye. Not
surely the less did this Sclaye woman
culver with the agony of her involuntary
degradation because she told us of it
here before the people-with shrill voice
and flashing volubility of utterance.
The personal outrages to which she had
been subjected cannot be written down
in their horrible circumstantiality but
you may realize how the recital thrilled
her audience, if you recall the shudder-
ing spasm that vibrated through Eng
land when the earliest tidings, happily
in one item of atrocity which they COM
prised not true, reached us of the open
ing of the Indian mutiny. Her cottage
had been burnt before her eyes; of three
children she had seen one, her baby,
tossed about from soldier to soldier, and
then flung into the flames; of the second
she knew nothing; the third, the lad,
had made his escape and joined her
from out the cover of the wood after she
had been allowed to drag herself away
from the scene of deviltry. Her relatives
lived, she said, In one of the hamlets of
the Golubinge upland, and she had
tramped thus far on her way to shelter
herself among them. Her husband had
left for the army since the earliest
days of the war, and she knew nothing
of his whereabouts. Their cottage had
been on the upland near the Grumads
pass. It is not far from this section of
of the extreme southeastern corner of
Servia, where is, or rather was, the
village of Loiun, of which Col. Prol1ch
Yesterday reported from Alexinatz that
the church, schools and houses had been
burned. Poljana, another village in the
same angle, is also reported by the same
authority to have been desolated in
similar manner.