The Story of the Great War (Vol. 1-8). Various Authors
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strings of punts. Presently they were met by volleys of bullets that seemed to come from all directions out of the bulrushes. Some, in their panic, leaped out into the shallow water and sunk in the mire. The rest retired.
For years the Turkish soldiers attempted to drive the Comitajis out of the swamp. First they surrounded it, watching all possible landing places, but the outlaws had supplies smuggled in to them by the peasants. Then the Turks began bombarding with heavy cannon, which, of course, was futile, since they could not distinguish the points at which they were firing. And finally they gave up molesting the Comitajis, who continued making the swamps their headquarters until the Young Turks came into power. Then, believing that a constitutional Macedonia was finally to be granted them, all the Comitajis laid down their arms.
It is a peculiar fact that Saloniki, one of the largest cities on the peninsula, with a population considerably over a hundred thousand, should represent none of the national elements of the country. For though Bulgars, Turks, Greeks, and Serbs may be found there, an overwhelming majority, nearly 90,000 of the people, are Spanish Jews.
Walking along the streets, it would be easy to imagine oneself in Spain or in Mexico; on all sides the shouts of peddlers, the cries of cabmen, the conversation of pedestrians, are in Spanish. With a knowledge of that language the stranger may make his way about as easily as in his own native country. These are the descendants of the Jews who were driven out of Spain by Torquemada and his Spanish Inquisition and were so hospitably received by the Sultan of Turkey.
Saloniki, where we shall witness severe battles, is situated at the head of the gulf by the same name, an inlet of the Ægean Sea. It is a well-fortified city, built on the water's edge, but surrounding it is high land commanding the surrounding country. Added to that, the swamp region is another protection from an enemy coming from inland. Its seaward forts, however, are, or were, obsolete and would probably crumble before the fire of modern naval guns.
Stretching down the eastern shore of the Gulf is a peninsula on which is the famous Mt. Athos, that very peculiar community of celibate monks. Here, in the Holy Mountain, as the Slavs call it, there are monasteries representing all the various denominations of the Greek Orthodox Church: Greek, Bulgarian, Serbian, and Russian, each swarming with hundreds of monks, who pass their time in idleness. Not only are women forbidden to enter this domain, but even female dogs or cats are kept out.
Across this upper end of the Ægean, from Mt. Athos, is the Bulgarian port, Dedeagatch, to which runs a branch of the main railway from Sofia to Constantinople. The country here is low and swampy, the port itself being little more than a boat landing.
Just below this point, across the Gulf of Saros, is the peninsula of Gallipoli, where a critical phase of the war was fought. It is somewhat like the blade of a scimitar, covering the entrance to the Sea of Marmora. Between this strip of land and the coast of Asia Minor is a narrow strait, the outer mouth of which is called the Dardanelles, the inner gateway being the famous Hellespont. Here it was that Xerxes crossed over on a bridge of boats at the head of his Persian army to invade Greece, only to meet disaster at Thermopylæ, and here Alexander of Macedonia crossed over to begin his march of conquest which was to extend his power as far as India. And about this narrow strait is centered the ancient Greek myth about Hero and Leander, which inspired Byron to swim across from Asia to Europe.
How well the Turks have fortified this approach to their capital is well enough indicated in the story of the operations of the allied fleets in their attempt to force the passage.
From the Hellespont to Constantinople is a sail of forty miles, along a coast steep and rugged, destitute of any harbor or even a beach where a boat might land. Nor is there a more beautiful sight than that which is presented on approaching the Turkish capital from this direction, especially of an early morning. Against the dawn in the East are silhouetted the minarets and domes and the palace roofs of the city; then, as the light increases, the white buildings are distinguished more clearly through a purple mist that rises from the waters, until the ship enters the Bosphorus, gliding past the shipping and the boat traffic along the shore of the harbor. The beauties of the Bosphorus have been described in every book of travel that has ever included this section of the world in its descriptions: it is undoubtedly the most beautiful waterway that may be found in any country.
Emerging into the Black Sea from the Bosphorus, one strikes the Bulgarian coast not far above that neck of land on which Constantinople is built. Along this stretch of coast up to the mouth of the Danube there are two harbors, Varna and Burgas. Each is terminus of a branch railroad leading off from the Nish-Sofia-Constantinople line. Behind Burgas lie the level tracts of Eastern Rumelia, or Thrace, as that part of the country is still called. But Varna is above the point where the Balkan Range strikes the coast, all of which is steep and rocky.
Above Varna begins the Delta of the Danube, up which steamers and heavily laden barges sail continuously, but here also begins the neutral territory of Rumania, the Dobruja, the richest section of the Danube basin, which was ceded to Rumania by Bulgaria after the Second Balkan War.
CHAPTER XLV
THE CAUCASUS—THE BARRED DOOR
We now come to that section of the eastern theatre of the war which received the least extended notice in printed reports—the barred doorway between Europe and Asia—the Caucasus. Not because the fighting there was less furious, but because the region was less accessible to war correspondents. The struggle was in fact quite as bloody and even more savage and barbarous here than elsewhere, for on this front Russ meets Turk, Christian meets Moslem, and where they grapple the veneer of chivalry blisters off.
Here again, as in Galicia, we come to a natural frontier, not only between two races, but between two continents. For here, crossing the isthmus between the Black Sea and the Caspian, stretches a mountain range over seven hundred miles in length, rising abruptly out of the plains on either side. These are the Caucasus Mountains, forming the boundary between Europe and Asia.
The higher and central part of the range (which averages only from sixty to seventy miles in width) is formed of parallel ridges, not separated by deep and wide valleys, but remarkably connected by elevated plateaus, which are traversed by narrow fissures of extreme depth. The highest peaks are in the most central chain; Mt. Elburz, attaining an elevation of 18,000 feet above the sea, while Mt. Kasbeck reaches a height of more than 16,000 feet, and several other peaks rise above the line of perpetual snow. The outlying spurs and foothills of this chain of lofty mountains are of less extent and importance than those of almost any other mountain range of similar magnitude, subsiding, as they do, until they are only 200 feet high along the shores of the Black Sea. Some parts are almost entirely bare, but other parts are densely wooded and the secondary ranges near the Black Sea are covered by magnificent forests of oak, beech, ash, maple, and walnut.
This range is an almost impassable wall across the narrow isthmus which joins Europe and Asia, and the Gorge of Dariel is the gateway in this wall through which have come almost all the migrating races that have peopled the continent of Europe. As is well known, the white peoples of Europe have been classified as the Caucasian race, because they were all supposed to have passed through this gateway originally. Apparently each of these oncoming waves of barbaric humanity, bursting through the great gateway, must have left behind some few remnants of their volume, for nowhere in the world, in so limited an area, is there such a diversity and mixture of peoples. In the words of one writer, who speaks with authority on this region, the Caucasus is "an ethnological museum where the invaders of Europe, as they traveled westward to be manufactured into nations, left behind samples of themselves in their raw condition."
Here may be found the Georgians, who so long championed the Cross against the Crescent, the wild Lesghians from the highlands of Daghestan; the Circassians, famed for the beauty of their women; Suanetians, Ossets, Abkhasians, Mingrelians, not to enumerate dozens of other tribes and races, each speaking its own tongue. It is said that over a hundred languages are spoken throughout this region; seventy in the city of Tiflis alone.
The scenery of the mountains themselves is unparalleled