THE TRAIL OF WAR IN MACEDONIA 
followed by the exodus of all those 
unwilling to be summarily Rumanised 
in language and in religion. These 
refugees swarm in Varna and Plevna, 
while it is said that at Burgas, near the 
Turkish frontier, there are now 48,000 
more forced out of Turkish Thrace since 
the recapture of Adrianople by the 
Turks with the wiping out of the Enos- 
Midia boundary line so carefully drawn 
by the Concert of Powers. 
In the whole length of the Struma 
Valley in western Macedonia, towns 
have been burned in whole or part by 
the Greek army which pursued the 
Bulgarians as far as the old border of 
Bulgaria. In Greek Macedonia, at the 
hands of some one or all of the three 
successive armies — Turkish, Bulgarian 
and Greek — most of the towns between 
Saloniki and Drama have suffered the 
same fate. Each of these towns has 
now its share of Greek refugees from 
Turkish Thrace. These have been esti- 
mated by Greek authorities as numbering 
300,000. They have come by railway 
from Adrianople in box cars belonging 
to the Greek Government. These cars 
are left at the various stations, a dozen 
or more at each. In these the people 
keep their bedding and their scanty 
effects. The government of Greece 
allows them two or three sous a day, 
with rice which they cook on fires of 
thistles and other weeds. I was told 
by one of these at Demir-Hissar that 
their homes about Adrianople and Kirk 
Kilisseh, were wanted for Albanian refu- 
gees from the Novibazar (now annexed 
to Serbia), and that they were given by 
the Albanians from two hours to four 
days to get out of Thrace. He summed 
up the conditions in the Italian word 
duro (hard). I was told also that a 
Turkish town near Nigrita (or possibly 
Nigrita itself) had been turned over 
bodily to Greek refugees, and that the 
299 
rest of these would in time be placed on 
farms abandoned by Turks and Bul- 
garians. Other Greeks, not refugees, 
were coming from Russian ports, at- 
tracted by the prospect of free land in 
Macedonia. 
In a Turkish journal, vigorous com- 
plaint was made against the Albanian 
refugees in Thrace as more “proficient 
with the Mauser than with the plow, 
and skillful only as cattle thieves.” A 
plea was made for bringing back the 
Bulgarian farmers as far more desirable 
neighbors. “The Bulgarians are now 
our friends.” 
In the larger towns, as Saloniki and 
Kilkush, the refugees are ranged in tent 
cities, ten thousand or more in one en- 
campment. There were perhaps sixty 
thousand Greek refugees a little more 
than a year ago along the road from 
Drama to Saloniki. 
A little more than a year ago, when I 
was at Saloniki, the Turks were leaving 
in great numbers: 212,000 took steerage 
passage for Stamboul in April. Saloniki, 
(Thessalonike) beautifully situated, in 
full face of Mount Olympus and with a 
noble harbor should be one of the great 
cities of the world. In the aftermath 
of the second Balkan war it lost half its 
population. It is no better off to-day 
than in the times when St. Paul called 
out for help in Macedonia. A year ago, 
there were still many Turks in Saloniki, 
teamsters, laborers, idlers about the 
wharves, gentlemen smoking in the 
cafés. Even in Bulgarian towns, as 
Dzumaia, one may see the red fez, but 
its wearers seem to have nothing to do 
save to lie about in unoccupied lots or to 
sit upon the steps of burned buildings. 
In Serbian Macedonia, the Bulgarian 
is turned by force into a Serbian. If he 
resists, he risks his life. His name is 
changed, as from Popoff to Popovitch, 
from Stephanoff to Stephanovitch. His 
