MONTENEGRO'S VICTORY.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LV, Issue 170, 5 December 1912, Page 7

MONTENEGRO'S VICTORY.

SCENES AT PODG:\ ! :n'ZA. ARRIVAL OF PRISONERS. A PATHETIC PROCESS rOX. The Daily Telegraph's special correspondent at Podgoritza wrote on October 15:— As soon as the news of the victory over the Turks began to spread great animation arose among the population, and gradually increased until numerous assemblies of people crowded the market place, the bridge and the cross roads. From places as far distant as Plavnitza tired groups of people arrived and mingled with the crowd anxiously seeking for confirmation at the news. For some time they had no longer heard the sound of the artillery, and accordingly they had hastened to the town to learn if the Montenegrins had been victorious. The news was true. The Montenegrins had finally conquered. They had captured all the forts and nearly a brigade of prisoners. Joy appeared in their faces, and the emotions of the people were so strong that many seemed to be the prey Of some internal agitation. What these mountaineers felt was keen to themselves, and there was no outward noisy demonstrations.

By herself little Montenegro had conquered, and, with only 3000 men, had overthrown more than a brigade of the 72nd Turkish Division. She had hurled a challenge and conquered the great empire. It had happened this morning, and so great had been the confidence that matters would happen in this way that there was no need to cry the news in the streets. The emotion of the old men was especially noticeable. For many years they had been looking forward to this day, and they had the gqod fortune to live to see it. They looked towards Detchitch, where the ■ Turkish battery no longer frowns .upon.the town, and they turned their eyes towards Plavnitza, Rogame, Shipshanik and Tuzi, not seeing them, but pointing towards them with their sticks, saying: "Tomorrow we will go and see them. Now they have become Montenegrin again."

Soon a few officers and soldiers ride into the town. They are surrounded and bombarded with questions. They reply that the news is true, and there are so many prisoners, so many of the enemy killed, so many arms captured,' and an enormous amount of booty. The officers ride away, and the crowd turn in the direction of the high road and await other news. It appears that nine field'guns and tw.cnty machine guns have fallen into the. hands of the Montenegrins. Four of the field guns are damaged, but the others are in good, condition. At Shipshanik a great many cartridges were captured, as well as several cases containing altogether 800 shrapnel and other shells, besides about 7000 Mauser rifles, all in splendid condition.'-

Many of the inhabitants who were armed had joined the soldiers, and this explains the large quantity of TifleSj whereas the-number of soldiers > taken prisoners was 3500, Rifles were also collected in che forts and their immediate vicinity, from dead and wounded. When the Montenegrins were seen entering the Viafnia Fort and collecting arms the fanatical Mussulmans in a neighboring village vacated the place, 'having first burned their houses. This was the last demonstration made by the enemy, of whom nothing more was heard, and silence, descended on tlie blood-stained field of the recent combats. It was announced that the column of prisoners would arrive this evening. Many people waited in the streets to see them. When the head of the column appeared in sight the crowd made way for it, retiring to the sides of the road. First came the Montenegrin flag, carried by an officer on horseback, The great white flag, with a red eagle in the.centre.; is saluted with love and respect by everybody. Then comes a group of Turkish .officers on horseback, Montenegrin cap; tains riding in front and beside them; The prisoners have a dejected appear-, ance, and they ride with their heads bent, their hands resting on the saddle,, and the reins lying loosely on the horses' necks. ' There are eight officers, and the last of them is a young lieutenant, who has only been a month in the service. He was captured by a young citizen of. Podgoritza. and when ]\a saw that he was lost he buried his sword in the ground rather than give it up. He endeavors to -maintain a more erect attitude on his horse than the others, but he cannot hide his profound emotion. ANATOLIAN DECRUITS. The officers arc followed by a company of young recruits from Anatolia.' They march slowly, and appear to be tired by the weight of the heavy sacks on'their backs. They collected all the property they could find —clothes, food, and even' cooking utensils. There are some 'hundreds of them marching between two lines of soldiers, with fixed bayonets. In the midst of another group' are notables, wearing the red fez. They are much less cast down than the others, | arid on passing an inn the)' ask to bo allowed to enter for refreshment.' Then' request is granted, and they go in, ae companicd by a functionary. ■ A stream of yellow and green uniforms continues to flow through the streets. The men are followed by carts. on which, among cases of furniture, are seated the wives of the officers and civil functionaries. They, too, had been witnesses of the battles, and are huddled up in the carts, as if they were' still terrified. They had been told to cover tlieir faces with their veils. Some had done so, but others remained uncovered, because, as they said, they wanted to see everything. The spectators watch this scene in silence; their attitude is almost respectful towards the passing enemy.

The last few hundred yards of the procession are all Bashi-Bazouks—the fierce Bashi-Bazouks. who never surrender. They wear white caps; their uniforms are torn and dirty, and many of them have no boots. Behind them are som« Mohammedan Malissori—about 50 alto gelhcr. It lakes about 25 minutes foi the procession to pass, and. the crowd pour into the street again. But in the distance is heard the sound of music. A military band is approaching, playing the Montenegrin hymn, ft advances slowly, as though it did not wish its note to reach the sad cortege which is marching towards its encampment.

CLosrxn hours of peace. SOYSV.fi IN SOFIA. A DEPOPULATED CAPITAL. (By Luigi Barzini, in the London Daily Telegraph).

At any moment the Bulgarian, Servian and Creek troops may cross the frontiers. Guns are ready to thunder from the Adriatic to the Black Sea. The dreadful war, which for nearly half a ( century has been the nightmare and terror of Europe, will break out before the hands of the clock have finished their round, and there is no human will or power that can dissipate- this fateful tempest of fire, and blood. These last few hours of peace are full of a profound and lugubrious quiet, a strange, absolute, unreal tranquility, in which we feel all the indescribable anxiety of a tormenting, mute expectancy. In appearance Sofia was never more calm. After the outburst of enthusiasm T\-)iv 1 - UVJetcd the mobilisation, after the

tremendous, fantastic confusion of the call to arms, after tlio feverish transformation of the people into an army, Sofia has recovered from her convulsion. Half depopulated, she has begun to reorganise her interrupted services, to rejuaie as best she can her normal activity, to join up the severed threads of her civic life by sotting to work all her old men and all her adolescents. For some days past she has been trying to assume her ordinary appearance. Those who bad known her before might easily believe that Sofia, now that she has resumed her customary aspect, was a monotonous, silent, serious provincial town. All external fervor has ceased; there are no more demonstrations, no more hurrahs. Everything that spoke of war has disappeared. Soldiers, horses, guns, waggons have marched away by day and night, amidst the acclamations of a grave-looking crowd. It seemed as if the torrents of arms were inexhaustible. Then they grew thinner and came to an end. Even the gendarmes have left, and it now seems as if the war has withdrawn to a distance. Sofia no longer wears the aspect of a belligerent capital and knows no more of war. BULGARIA'S AWAKENING. Everything that has even the most distant relation with war is kept jealously secret, and an impenetrable mystery surrounds us. With regard to the military preparations, we only know wliat the man on the street suggests. The newspapers say nothing, and the. people ask nothing. * It might be said that Sofia, having accomplished her wonderful effort, has fallen into a state of tired apathy. But that is not true. She anxiously awaits the arrival of news of the beginning of the struggle. Everything else seems small and insignificant. She has no curiosity. She does not wish to know how the tremendous clash of arms is being prepared. She has faith in hot men, and is convinced of victory. Butbenesith this deceptive indifference is a palpitating suspense. The present is a moment' of indescribable solemnity. In a confused manner we feel that today may initiate something grander than a war —that a new era may be 'begun. Serbs, Bulgars and Greeks rise, after four centuries, against Islam, which has routed and brought them low. It is the reconquest of Tirnovo, Kossavo and Byzantium at which, united for the first lime, they are aiming. It was their jealousies which opened the road for Turkish conquest on the soil of Europe, and it is their alliance whie'li,' as they hope, will bring to an end the long, atrocious period of Mohammedan domination over Christian peoples. Thirty-five years ago Bulgaria did /not 'exist; Turkish oppression had cancelled the memories of ancient glories. Bui gars seemed to be incapable of becoming an independent people. "JAPAN OF THE BALKANS."

Nobody seems to have understood the progress that lias been made, and the surprise of the world at seeing Bulgaria to-day declaring herself out of tutelage .and putting'.! vast'army in the field can only be compared with the wonderment of the nations at the revelation of a new Japan as the adversary of the Russian Empire.' ■■• '■< ■

oome volunteers arrive. They arc Macedonians, who have had to travel afoot for a week, and, meeting each other;otlier Dn the way, formed groups and inarched, preceded by banners of ihn Cross, ■a.v.A singing melancholy songs cl war. IjViih their uncouth but picturesque, uniforms and their ruddy faces full of fervor, they make one think of the Chouaijs of 1793. Still they arrive—youths who were students abroad and laborers. But for the moment enrolment has been suspended. It will be resumed in 10 or 12 days: Meanwhile all these young men will somehow manage to find uniforms and dress themselves as soldiers, waitin" to he railed to arms.