CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH.

THE SAVE—ROAD TO SCHABATZ—TRADE OF THE TOWN—SHOP AND DWELLING OF A TRADER—CATHEDRAL—INTERVIEW WITH THE BISHOP OF SCHABATZ—READING ROOM—M. GARASHANIN—INTERVIEW WITH PRINCE MICHEL—PRINCE’S MODEL FARM—RAKOWITZA —MONASTIC CHURCH—CEMETERY.

Having seen the banks of the Danube from Belgrade to Milanowatz; and having traversed the country on the banks of the Morava, from where it becomes navigable at Kjuprija, to its mouth on the Danube below Semandria, I took my passage on board the Servian steamboat which plies between Belgrade and Schabatz, for the purpose of visiting the latter town, and seeing the banks of the Save. This river, which rises in the Austrian dominions, forms the northern boundary of Bosnia and Servia, and dividing these countries from Sclavonia, unites its waters with those of the Danube between Semlin and Belgrade. On the Austrian side of the river the banks of the Save are of a tamer character than those in Servia, and resemble the usual Hungarian scenery. The ground on either side in summer-time is, however, very pleasing ; but in winter the prospect on the left, or Austrian bank, must be very dreary, since in summer this side owes all its beauty to the luxuriant character of its vegetation. The hills which slope down to the brink of the river, or overhang it in some places on the right bank, give considerable beauty to the Servian side. But in May, the spring vegetation, with the foliage of the trees not yet deepened into the hue of summer, the well cultivated grounds on either side, and the numerous long low islands, which are covered to the water’s edge with reeds, flags, shrubs of all kinds, laburnum and birch, ash and alder, so that they seem floating masses of verdure rather than pieces of solid ground, make the view a very charming one. This, and the usual clearness of the atmosphere in these countries, added to the fineness of the day, greatly increased the pleasure of our voyage.

The Save is a far more rapid stream than the Danube, and the strength of the current lengthened our passage up the river considerably. It took the boat five hours to perform the voyage from Belgrade to Schabatz, whereas, on the next day, on our passage down the river, having the advantage of the current, the same distance only occupied us four hours.

The citadel of Schabatz is one of the seven strong places in Servia which have been reserved to the Turks. It is garrisoned by the shopkeepers who inhabit the Turkish quarter of the town. The fortifications consist of old Servian work, based on, and including, some of a still older date ; indeed, there are unmistakeable traces of the Roman hand in several parts of the building. What is called the citadel is a building consisting of four towers which are united by a crenellated wall. It is sadly dilapidated, and though strengthened on the city side by a mound of earth, riveted with wicker-work, which resembles a huge gabion, it could probably offer little opposition in the event of a determined assault.

The landing-place from the town is situated a little above this citadel, and anything more wretched, or more unlike the approach to a large and flourishing city, can scarcely be imagined. A bank of earth, half-washed away by last winter’s floods, was the quay at which we were disembarked. Around us was a desolate sea of mud, fortunately, at this time of the year, dry and hard. Across this flat stretched a road, consisting of rough stones thrown into the mud whilst in a liquid state, from one to the other of which we hopped and hobbled as best we could. ‘Two or three bridges of planks, covered with faggots to prevent our falling through the dilapidated timbers, broke the monotony of this road. We were thankful when we had passed through all this chaos, and had got safely into the town. It was getting dusk as we did so; had it been later in the day, it would scarcely have been safe for us to have attempted the passage.

This wretched road is a part of the great European system. The mud and loose stones are at once the symbols and the triumphs of diplomacy. The great powers, or at least the majority of them, have fastened around the neck of the. Servian state these seven Turkish garrisons, and, as a consequence, Schabatz is thrust back three quarters of a mile from the river instead of being allowed to approach the water. The road is claimed as the possession of the Turks, because ~ within range of the guns of the fortress; and whilst passively they will do nothing to repair the road, actively they prevent the people of the city from doing so. The wonder is, that despite these hindrances, the trade of Schabatz should have assumed the importance which it has. Whilst its situation as the chief town on the Bosnian frontier rendered it in the time of the late war the least desirable of residences, this same circumstance, in time of peace, has conduced to its present importance.

In the outskirts of the city we passed several mosques, with their graceful minarets, more dirty and dilapidated, however, than even those at Belgrade. The chief of these mosques is ascended by a flight of steps, the basement story being occupied by a vendor of sweets, sherbet, and such-like comforts. The kind of bustle which we found in the town indicated the nature of the trade of Schabatz. In other towns, such, for instance, as Posherawatz, the streets were thronged with foot-passengers, purchasers from the neighbourhood, from the hundreds of cottages which line the road between that town and Oreowatz; but at Schabatz, the difficulty of moving through the streets arose chiefly from the heavy waggons, drawn by the small oxen of the country, or by a couple of buffaloes, led along by a string fastened through the nose of each These were laden with cotton and woollen goods from Austria; bales of Turkish cotton which had been brought to Belgrade, and then shipped on board the steamer for this place; enormous mill-stones, for which there was evidently a considerable demand; rock-salt, in masses of some eighteen inches by nine; loads of skins, sacks of maize, and bars of iron. The streets were alive with these vehicles going in all directions, to Waljewo and Ushitza, in the interior of Servia; to Losnitza and Swornik, on the frontiers of Bosnia; or to Bosna Sserai, in the very heart of Bosnia. The warehouses and granaries of this city are apparently more numerous than the shops, and these were neither few in number, nor of trivial importance.

As we strolled through the city on the morning after our arrival, we were struck with the size of many of these shops. Even those which had but a small front to the street were often of considerable depth. Into one of these shops we were courteously invited to enter, and this gave me an opportunity of inspecting its contents, and the means of describing them. The shop was one of the larger kind, though by no means the largest in the city. The front was divided into two by an entrance to the domestic apartments, which were situated behind the shop. The owner was what in England would be called a general dealer. General and miscellaneous, indeed, was the stock which we met with. Groceries of all kinds, of as varied a description as could be found in the shop of a grocer in one of our largest and most flourishing towns; as well as meal, pulse, bacon, and eggs, and the usual stock of a cheesemonger ; add to these articles, glass and crockeryware, pins and needles, buttons and tapes, cotton and thread, which filled the pigeon-holes rising from the floor to the roof; over our heads mops and brooms dangled from the ceiling; on the floor were piled up earthenware of all kinds, hardware, pots and saucepans, gridirons and meat-jacks. In another part might be seen, amongst parcels of children’s toys and lucifer-matches, packets of Mordan’s pencils and Gillott’s pens. Behind this shop was another for the sale of drapery and of ready-made clothes; hats of all shapes and sizes, made to suit every nationality, with slippers, shoes, and boots for all ages. In another part of the shop were French and Dutch clocks, German musical boxes, and Austrian mathematical instruments. In short, it would be difficult to say what, might not be purchased ; but decidedly when ascertained, it would be easier to enumerate the articles not to be found than those which were for sale.

Having examined the contents of the shop, we were invited into the dwelling-house, where sweetmeats, as usual, wine, raki, and cigars, were handed round.

The ground-plan of the shop and dwelling-house was four-square. The entrance from the street, through what our neighbours would call a porte-cochére, led to the household apartments and domestic offices, which were built round and enclosed a small flower garden. The sitting and sleeping rooms of the shopkeeper’s family projected into the square, so as almost to cut it into two. By this means, the windows command both entrances to the house,—that from the street, and another in the rear of the offices, leading to the stores and warehouses. The dwelling-house consisted of rooms wholly on the ground-floor, but raised some six feet above the earth. They were lofty, spacious, and cheerful, the walls being covered with a paper in good taste. The floors were parqueted and polished. The absence of carpets during the summer months conduces much to the healthiness of the houses in this climate, as well as to their cleanliness. As usual, a kind of loggia, or open gallery, ran along one side of the building, with a divan, the whole suggestive of a cool evening, chess, and cigars. The rest of the house comprised a dining and a sitting room, with three or four bed rooms. The furniture of the sitting room was of a very elegant description. The chairs and tables of one apartment, at least, were made of iron, which, gilded and decorated, were very ornamental and light, and are easily kept clean. Some good engravings and photographs hanging on the walls of the sitting room, showed the tastes of the family.

Behind the house were the store-rooms, filled with the usual stock of a large general dealer. One article, however, was novel to us. We made our way over immense heaps of acorns, or rather the cup of a particular kind of acorn, the vallonia of commerce, which is used instead of bark for tanning leather, and is exported in large quantities for this purpose to Hungary, Austria, and various parts of Germany. At the time of our visit, the low value of acorns in the market led to their being held back in the hope of more remunerative prices. Some idea of the extent of the trade in this article may be gathered from the estimated value of the stock possessed by this shopkeeper at Schabatz According to the average market-price, his store of acorns was worth 40,000 l. sterling. The whole establishment of this shopkeeper resembles that of a merchant amongst ourselves, in the days when Lombard-street bankers lived on the first floor of the bank, and Turkey merchants brought up their families in the lofty but dingy apartments in the rear of their office.

The streets in the suburbs of the town are open and spacious. Immediately opposite the inn where we rested for the night, stands the mansion formerly occupied by Jephrem, brother to Prince Milosh. It is now the prefecture of the department, and is a handsome building, with gabled wings overlooking the street, and surrounded with large grounds, planted chiefly with acacias. A short distance from this stands the cathedral of St. Peter and St. Paul, a modem building, without any distinctive features in the exterior. The interior, however, is good. The iconostasis, which is carried up quite to the roof, and the paintings and other decorations, give a very impressive effect to the church.

We were here shown the various vestments and ornaments used during Divine service. On the altar is an exquisitely worked crucifix, of filigree work, made and presented by an inhabitant of the city to the church. The head-dress of the bishops throughout the Orthodox Church is a bonnet, such as we see in representations of: the Jewish High-priest. The bonnet of the Bishop of Schabatz is of brown silk, but so covered with cloth of gold, on which emeralds, garnets, and pearls are worked in such profusion that but little of the silk can be seen. It is surmounted by a very large emerald cross. The bishop’s pectoral cross was also shown. This is worn by him when he officiates at the Holy Communion, and is of blue enamel, with the figure of our crucified Lord most beautifully executed in miniature.

The cathedral, like the other modern churches of a large size in this country, is already showing signs of premature decay, and the vaulting of the roof has several monitory fissures in it, threatening the speedy destruction of the whole building.

After having secured a bed-room in the inn to which I had been recommended, I sent a message to the bishop, to inform him that, having a letter of introduction from the Archbishop of Belgrade, it was my wish to call upon him, if he would appoint a time to receive me. My messenger speedily returned with the answer of the bishop, that he should be glad to see me at any time that might be most convenient to me to call between five and ten o’clock in the morning. I was certainly unprepared for such early hours. However, about eight o’clock, I presented myself at the palace, and found the bishop waiting at the top of the stairs to receive me. The palace is a large and imposing, but plain building, standing in a courtyard. The ground-floor is occupied with apartments for the transaction of the official business of the see, and for the holding diocesan courts and synods. The upper story is reserved for the residence of the bishop.

The bishop has a fine, manly, and very intelligent countenance, and a remarkably quick and penetrating eye. His long black hair is flecked with grey, and his beard has lost almost all traces of its original blackness. His manner was very frank, affable, and courteous. Having placed me on a couch, he opened the conversation by asking me my opinion of the country which I had visited, and whether my interest in the Greek Church had arisen from what I had seen in Servia, or from a previous acquaintance with the position and history of the Eastern Church. On my replying, he added, that he was aware of the general sympathy which English Churchmen had always manifested for the Orthodox Church, and that recent writers in England, such as Professor Stanley and Dr. Neale, had devoted much attention to matters connected with the doctrines, ritual, and history of that part of the church, He then proceeded to ask a variety of questions respecting the English Church, all of which showed a very accurate knowledge of the general history of the Church in this country, and of its rites and position with reference to the other part of the Western Church, and to the Presbyterian and the separate religious bodies on the Continent. Then rather abruptly breaking off from other topics, he exclaimed, “But before I forget, tell me, how is it that in England you are continually trying to get the consent of your parliament for allowing the marriage of a man with his deceased wife’s sister?” I was somewhat surprised at the bishop’s information on the subject, and attempted an apology, or rather explanation, that since the constitution of England was similar to that of Servia, members of our parliament were as free to introduce measures good, bad, or indifferent, into that assembly, as members of the Skoupschina were to do the like in the Servian parliament, but that the measure had never passed into a law; that it had been defeated year by year by increasing majorities, and that the Church had, as unanimously as could be expected, resisted the attempt to alter the marriagelaw in this respect. At this point he interrupted me with much animation, and said, “Oh, don’t think I accuse the English Church of joining in this. I am quite aware it is the act of mere civilians in your parliament, but I am astonished, I confess, to find that in England you have civilians so ignorant of God’s word, and so indifferent to the authority of the Church, as to persist in forcing forward such a measure.” On this attempt to tamper with the laws of marriage he appeared to feel very strongly.

The subjects on which the bishop questioned me, were chiefly as to how the English clergy are supported, whether by payments from the state, as in France, Austria, and most other countries of Europe, or by revenues independent of the state ; what the course of studies at the English universities embrace, and what special training we have for those who were to be called to the ministry ; what is the mode of ordination and consecration of bishops, priests, and deacons, in the English Church; whether with us’ regard is had to the ancient canons prescribing the number of consecrators for every bishop, and whether presbyters join with the bishop in laying hands upon the candidate for the priesthood, in which practice, as he pointed out, we differ from the usage of the Eastern Church. He also made some minute inquiries as to the constitution of the English hierarchy, and especially as to the power of the metropolitan over his comprovincial bishops, and his right to interfere in the internal government of the diocese of a suffragan bishop. When I had answered his inquiries so far as I could, he kindly submitted to a like catechising as to the curriculum of studies at the seminary in Belgrade, where the Servian clergy are educated, and of which the bishop was, until about three years since, the chief professor; the means by which the parochial clergy are supported; the mode of episcopal visitation throughout Servia, and other similar topics, the substance of which I have given in an earlier chapter. As there seemed a likelihood of increased commercial intercourse between Servia and England, which might lead to the settlement of English families at Belgrade and elsewhere, I was anxious to learn in what light the Servian bishops would regard any chaplain who might in that case be sent to Servia. On this subject the assurances of the bishop were of the most satisfactory and encouraging kind, Indeed, the information which he possessed respecting ecclesiastical matters in England was fully equalled by the tone of Christian sympathy with which he referred to our own branch of Christ’s Church.

After an interview with the bishop, we examined the national schools and the gymnasium, or, as we should say, middle school, which is held in a handsome building immediately opposite.the palace. Close to the cathedral is a small reading room with a fair library, for the use of the shopkeepers of the town. Five or six Servian newspapers, a German Illustrated News, and a few German, Hungarian, and Sclavonic periodicals, were lying on the tables. The walls were ornamented with maps, prints of the heroes of the War of Independence, and views of places of historic importance.

This city was the furthest point westward reached by me during my stay in Servia. The frontiers of Bosnia are but a short distance, and the mountains on the other side of the Dwina are distinctly seen from this place.

On my return to Belgrade I was presented by our Consul-General, Mr. Longworth, at the palace. My first interview was with the well-known M. Garashanin, one of the few surviving links between our own times and the days of Turkish rule. He is the present Prime Minister of Servia, and is probably the most influential subject in the principality. Judging from appearances, he is about sixty-five years of age. In height he is rather over six feet, and is light in bulk and energetic in a¢tion. His whole appearance, the quick restless eye, the wrinkled ‘sinewy neck, gave me the idea rather of a guerilla chieftain, or an adventurous explorer of the backwoods of the New World, than of an industrious, skilful, calculating statesman. Our conversation was, of course, on general topics, the prospects of the country, its agricultural capabilities, and mineral riches; the condition of the people, and the points which had interested us in our journey. The only language of which he made use during our interview was Servian, and the conversation was carried on by the assistance of M. Leschanin, the Under-Secretary of State, who spoke French and English, having resided for some time both in France and in this country.

After leaving the Prime Minister, our next interview was with Prince Michel, the Governor of Servia. The Prince is the only surviving son of Milosh, the leader of the Servians in the concluding part of the War of Independence. The present is his second tenure of office. In 1842 he was raised to the chief power, on the forced abdication of his father, whose unpopularity compelled him to give up the reins of power. After a short interval, during which the government of the country was administered in the name of Milan, the eldest son of Milosh, but who was too unwell to be anything more than a nominal governor, even if he were ever conscious of the dignity which had devolved on him, Prince Michel succeeded to supreme power. His rule, however, was of short duration. The unpopularity of his family was not diminished by his own actions, and he was soon compelled to follow the example of his father, and to share his exile. After nearly eighteen years of banishment, on the abdication of Prince Alexander, the son of Kara George, Milosh was recalled and reinstated in his former power and dignity. On his death, which happened in September, 1860, Prince Michel was a second time raised to supreme power. He is apparently about forty-eight years of age, swarthy in countenance, slight in body, of medium height, and of gentlemanly bearing. He is very popular with his people, although some acts of his government have been contested, and the limitation of the power of the Skoupschina and of the Senate seemed likely for a moment to endanger his popularity. Almost every day, about four o’clock in the afternoon, he may be seen, generally walking, but sometimes driving, with the Princess, on the road towards. Topschidere. He is usually unattended, or followed by one servant only. Certainly, no sovereign in Europe maintains less state, or dispenses so thoroughly with guards as Prince Michel. In the former he shows a wise regard to the finances of the country. The palace expenses, and the whole civil list of the Prince, do not exceed thirty-five thousand pounds ; and out of this he is able now and then to build a bridge, to erect a fountain, or to spare something for some other improvements in Belgrade and the neighbourhood.

We found the Prince in his study or office, lolling on a sofa, over which was hung a fair portrait of old Milosh, his father. This, and a good picture, kitkat-size, of the Princess, and a bust of his mother, were almost the only ornaments of the room.. Books, maps, and papers were lying on the tables. We had been forewarned that we should find the Prince full of ambitious projects of enlarging his kingdom, and busy with preparations for encroachments upon the Turks. If these schemes were dwelling in his mind, he gave no indications that his thoughts ran on such matters. His whole conversation turned on social, commercial, and agricultural topics; on the state of the schools, and the advances made by the peasantry in the management of their lands. His chief inquiries were as to the state in which we had found the roads, and the convenience and inconvenience of travelling in Servia ; and he seemed anxious to learn our opinion of the condition of the people. Though we said nothing of our recent visit to Schabatz, he appeared to be perfectly aware of our movements, and asked us particularly what we thought of that city. He spoke of the necessity of improving the navigation of the rivers, and especially that of the Morava; and dwelt upon the advantages which he thought likely to accrue from the projected English company. After some observations upon the differences of climate in several parts of Servia, and the want of rain at Belgrade, he gave a lively account of the state of his farms, and handed us a piece of barley which he had plucked a week before in passing through one of his fields. A well-formed and full ear of barley gathered in the middle of April was something to be pleased with. In a chat of this kind, without the slightest allusion to politics, or the remotest reference to anything more warlike than a ploughshare and a sickle, we spent half an hour, and left the Prince much pleased with his courtesy, the perfect naturalness of his manner, and the interest which he takes in such peaceful pursuits as roadmaking and farm cultivation. The love which his people have for their Prince is evidently mutual The conversation was carried on in French, of which he is a perfect master, in addition to speaking the German, Hungarian, and Wallachian languages.

At Topschidere, about two miles from Belgrade, the Prince has a small country residence, approached by an avenue of white acacias and laburnums, and surrounded by pretty grounds with fountains and statues, conservatories for flowers, and forcing-houses for vegetables. Immediately behind the house, a semicircle of hills covered with trees and intersected by a number of narrow paths, is the favourite lounge for the citizens of Belgrade on all holidays. Two or three kiosks erected at various points of the grounds, add to the picturesqueness of these rural walks, and offer a convenient shelter for pic-nic parties. Adjoining this miniature palace is small farm, on which Prince Michel bestows much attention. This may be regarded as a model farm, in which the Servian agriculturists see the advantages of superior methods of irrigation, and may derive lessons in neat cultivation, in the raising cereal crops and in managing cattle. Part of the land is cultivated as a market-garden, and is well filled with the usual table vegetables—peas, beans, potatoes, cabbages, and salads. Already the lessons taught by this little farm have been applied by farmers in the neighbourhood ; and in one or two out-of-the-way spots I came across some very successful attempts at market-gardening, which were evidently the result of the Prince’s experiments. Until recently, Belgrade has been entirely dependent upon the market-gardens around Semlin for vegetables. This is still the case to a large extent; but the native growers are every day entering successfully into competition with their brethren in the Austrian territory, and no doubt before long the lands around Belgrade will grow all that is required for the tables of the citizens. The small amount of rain which falls in the neighbourhood of this city is, however, a hindrance to the success of these gardens. Where they seem to answer best, their owners have taken advantage of the aqueducts and artificial channels constructed by the Romans, which are to be seen in several places round Belgrade.

Leaving Topschidere on the right, the road passes the village church and parsonage, with its ample glebe covered with orchards of apple and cherry trees, and leads, at the distance of about half an hour’s drive from the Prince’s palace, to the monastery of Rakowitza. The way is over a bearable road and through placid and beautiful scenery, up a valley between hills of moderate height, which gradually contract until they meet at the spot selected for the monastery. This is one of the oldest religious establishments in Servia, and part of the church dates from the times of the Servian kings, The monastery was erected by Prince Milosh on the ruins of older buildings destroyed by the Turks. The main portion of this consists of a ground-floor for offices, with a deep covered gallery or loggia running along the whole of the front of the first story. Behind this loggia a series of small rooms and sleeping apartments are set aside for the use of the members of the monastery, which at present only consisted of the hegumon and one monk. When we visited it, the hegumon was busy: in the fields, and we were received by the monk, who had been a parish priest, but, in consequence of the death of his wife, had been compelled to enter a monastery. He was about thirty years of age—a frank, open-hearted man, to whom the confinement of the monastery was, as he confessed, very irksome. On my presenting the letter of the archbishop, he remarked that he had read much about the English nation, but had never before met with any of my fellow-countrymen, as few Englishmen ever came to Servia. “And what has led you,” said he, “to this country?” I answered, that I had come partly in quest of health, and partly to see something more of the state of the Greek Church. “Then am I to understand,” he rejoined, “that, though an Englishman, you are a friend of Servia?” I told him that I knew no reason why an Englishman should be held to be hostile to Servia. “How, then,” he added, “is it that I find in the newspapers that whenever any act of oppression and cruelty by the Turks towards our people is complained of, members of the British parliament always rise up to excuse and justify the Turks? Why is it,” he continued, with animation, “you, who are the great, the greatest civilisers in Europe, invariably support the cause of those who are most hostile to all civilisation—the Turks—against us, who are doing our best to follow your example?” As this has always been to me a puzzling fact, I could not attempt to enlighten the monk on this paradox. I could but plead my own good-will and love for Servia ; and we passed to more agreeable topics. He took me into his room, plainly furnished, but provided with a better assortment of books than I had found in either of the other monasteries which I had visited—several volumes of Eastern theology, as well as books and periodicals in general literature, German, Russian, and Servian, with two or three newspapers.¹ As might be expected, he was dissatisfied at his compulsory monkhood, and did not conceal his sympathy at the efforts which were being made in the Skoupschina for the removal of the restriction against the marriage of the monks. Indeed, but for the regulations of the Eastern Church, which forbids both the contraction of a second marriage and the retention of a benefice by an unmarried priest, it would not be possible to obtain even the scanty number of monks which the few monastic establishments of Servia require.

The church, which is dedicated in memory of St. Michael the Archangel, consists of sanctuary, choir, nave, and narthex. The altar is of stone, and the iconostasis, which is of the same material, is covered with old paintings of a Byzantine type. Two octagonal lanterns rise from the roof, one over the west door, and the other over the intersection of the cross. The church, like all the others which I have seen, is transeptal. The choir, nave, and narthex are separated from each other by solid walls, and in the narthex are two stone pillars for candles. Like all the old churches, there is no constructive ambo, but the spot on which the priest stands at the reading of the Gospel and Epistle is marked by a round stone immediately in front of the central opening to the iconostasis. Many of the mouldings in this church are what we should call “Early English;” the whole edifice, however, was churchwardenised in 1844, and has so suffered from whitewash and tawdry embellishment, that many characteristic features are almost obliterated.

The church is only open to the parishioners on festivals and holy days, being more strictly and exclusively monastic than the churches at Ravanitza and Manassia. Of these festivals, there are many in the. Servian Calendar, and on their recurrence a visit to Rakowitza is one of pleasure. The crowds of holidaymakers who gather on these occasions on the lawn in front of the monastery, and the slopes of the hills on the two sides, are said oftentimes to exceed ten thousand in number.

A short distance to the right on the road from Racovitza, is a small cemetery, which was the burial-place of those Servians who fell during the siege of Belgrade, in 1806. A plain square monument, built by Kara Alexander in 1848, stands in the centre of this quiet burial-place, and the inscription on its four sides records the occasion of the erection of the memorial and the setting apart of the burial-place. Around the cemetery may still be traced the lines of the Turkish intrenchment before which the Servian soldiers fell. This and a wooden cross about eighteen feet high, at some distance to the right, are the only existing marks of a battle-field which for some years freed Servia from the yoke and the oppression of the Turks,

1. Three newspapers are published at Belgrade, one of which is the official gazette. Of the others, published on the Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday of each week, one is almost exclusively commercial ; another is chiefly filled with political news. The Servian Punch is printed in Sclavonia. The paper of these journals is quite equal to that of the best of our own cheap newspapers. ↩︎