It is painful to have to add that the British Government was indirectly responsible for these events. Not only had it let the Turks know that it deprecated the intervention of the European Powers in Turkey (which was equivalent to giving the Turks carte blanche in dealing with their Christian subjects), but on hearing of the Herzegovina revolt, it pressed on the Porte the need of taking speedy measures to suppress them. The despatches of Sir Henry Elliott, our ambassador at Constantinople, also show that he had favoured the use of active measures towards the disaffected districts north of Philippopolis[103].

[Footnote 103: Parl. Papers, Turkey, No. 3 (1876), pp. 144, 173, 198-199.]

Of course, neither the British Government nor its ambassador foresaw the awful results of this advice; but their knowledge of Turkish methods should have warned them against giving it without adding the cautions so obviously needed. Sir Henry Elliott speedily protested against the measures adopted by the Turks, but then it was too late[104]. Furthermore, the contemptuous way in which Disraeli dismissed the first reports of the Bulgarian massacres as "coffee-house babble" revealed his whole attitude of mind on Turkish affairs; and the painful impression aroused by this utterance was increased by his declaration of July 30 that the British fleet then at Besika Bay was kept there solely in defence of British interests. He made a similar but more general statement in the House of Commons on August 11. On the next morning the world heard that Queen Victoria had been pleased to confer on him the title of Earl of Beaconsfield. It is well known, on his own admission, that he could no longer endure the strain of the late sittings in the House of Commons and had besought Her Majesty for leave to retire. She, however, suggested the gracious alternative that he should continue in office with a seat in the House of Lords. None the less, the conferring of this honour was felt by very many to be singularly inopportune.

[Footnote 104: See, inter alia, his letter of May 26, 1876, quoted in Life and Correspondence of William White (1902), pp. 99-100.]

For at this time tidings of the massacres at Batak and elsewhere began to be fully known. Despite the efforts of Ministers to discredit them, they aroused growing excitement; and when the whole truth was known, a storm of indignation swept over the country as over the whole of Europe. Efforts were made by the Turcophil Press to represent the new trend of popular feeling as a mere party move and an insidious attempt of the Liberal Opposition to exploit humanitarian sentiment; but this charge will not bear examination. Mr. Gladstone had retired from the Liberal Leadership early in 1875 and was deeply occupied in literary work; and Lords Granville and Hartington, on whom devolved the duty of leading the Opposition, had been very sparing of criticisms on the foreign policy of the Cabinet. They, as well as Mr. Gladstone, had merely stated that the Government, on refusing to join in the Berlin Memorandum, ought to have formulated an alternative policy. We now know that Mr. Gladstone left his literary work doubtfully and reluctantly[105].

[Footnote 105: J. Morley, Life of Gladstone, vol. ii. pp. 548-549.]

Now, however, the events in Bulgaria shed a ghastly light on the whole situation, and showed the consequences of giving the "moral support" of Britain to the Turks. The whole question ceased to rest on the high and dry levels of diplomacy, and became one of life or death for many thousands of men and women. The conscience of the country was touched to the quick by the thought that the presence of the British Mediterranean fleet at Besika Bay was giving the same encouragement to the Turks as it had done before the Crimean War, and that, too, when they had belied the promises so solemnly given in 1856, and were now proved to be guilty of unspeakable barbarities. In such a case, the British nation would have been disgraced had it not demanded that no further alliance should be formed. It was equally the duty of the leaders of the Opposition to voice what was undoubtedly the national sentiment. To have kept silence would have been to stultify our Parliamentary institutions. The parrot cry that British interests were endangered by Russia's supposed designs on Turkey, was met by the unanswerable reply that, if those designs existed, the best way to check them was to maintain the European Concert, and especially to keep in close touch with Austria, seeing that that Power had as much cause as England to dread any southward extension of the Czar's power. Russia might conceivably fight Turkey and Great Britain; but she would not wage war against Austria as well. Therefore, the dictates of humanity as well as those of common sense alike condemned the British policy, which from the outset had encouraged the Turks to resist European intervention, had made us in some measure responsible for the Bulgarian massacres, and, finally, had broken up the Concert of the Powers, from which alone a peaceful solution of the Eastern Question could be expected.

The union of the Powers having been dissolved by British action, it was but natural that Russia and Austria should come to a private understanding. This came about at Reichstadt in Bohemia on July 8. No definitive treaty was signed, but the two Emperors and their Chancellors framed an agreement defining their spheres of influence in the Balkans in case war should break out between Russia and Turkey. Francis Joseph of Austria covenanted to observe a neutrality friendly to the Czar under certain conditions that will be noticed later on. Some of those conditions were distasteful to the Russian Government, which sounded Bismarck as to his attitude in case war broke out between the Czar and the Hapsburg ruler. Apparently the reply of the German Chancellor was unfavourable to Russia[106], for it thereafter renewed the negotiations with the Court of Vienna. On the whole, the ensuing agreement was a great diplomatic triumph; for the Czar thereby secured the neutrality of Austria—a Power that might readily have remained in close touch with Great Britain had British diplomacy displayed more foresight.

[Footnote 106: Bismarck, Reflections and Reminiscences vol. ii. chap, xxviii.]

The prospects of a great war, meanwhile, had increased owing to the action of Servia and Montenegro. The rulers of those States, unable any longer to hold in their peoples, and hoping for support from their Muscovite kinsfolk, declared war on Turkey at the end of June. Russian volunteers thronged to the Servian forces by thousands; but, despite the leadership of the Russian General, Tchernayeff, they were soon overborne by the numbers and fanatical valour of the Turks. Early in September, Servia appealed to the Powers for their mediation; and, owing chiefly to the efforts of Great Britain, terms for an armistice were proposed by the new Sultan, Abdul Hamid, but of so hard a nature that the Servians rejected them.

On the fortune of war still inclining against the Slavonic cause, the Russian people became intensely excited; and it was clear that they would speedily join in the war unless the Turks moderated their claims. There is reason to believe that the Czar Alexander II. dreaded the outbreak of hostilities with Turkey in which he might become embroiled with Great Britain. The Panslavonic party in Russia was then permeated by revolutionary elements that might threaten the stability of the dynasty at the end of a long and exhausting struggle. But, feeling himself in honour bound to rescue Servia and Montenegro from the results of their ill-judged enterprise, he assembled large forces in South Russia and sent General Ignatieff to Constantinople with the demand, urged in the most imperious manner (Oct. 30), that the Porte should immediately grant an armistice to those States. At once Abdul Hamid gave way.

Even so, Alexander II. showed every desire of averting the horrors of war. Speaking to the British ambassador at St. Petersburg on November 2, he said that the present state of affairs in Turkey "was intolerable, and unless Europe was prepared to act with firmness and energy, he should be obliged to act alone." But he pledged his word that he desired no aggrandisement, and that "he had not the smallest wish or intention to be possessed of Constantinople[107]." At this time proposals for a Conference of the Powers at Constantinople were being mooted: they had been put forth by the British Government on October 5. There seemed, therefore, to be some hope of a compromise if the Powers reunited so as to bring pressure to bear on Turkey; for, a week later, the Sultan announced his intention of granting a constitution, with an elected Assembly to supervise the administration. But hopes of peace as well as of effective reform in Turkey were damped by the warlike speech of Lord Beaconsfield at the Lord Mayor's banquet on November 9. He then used these words. If Britain draws the sword "in a righteous cause; if the contest is one which concerns her liberty, her independence, or her Empire, her resources, I feel, are inexhaustible. She is not a country that, when she enters into a campaign, has to ask herself whether she can support a second or a third campaign." On the next day the Czar replied in a speech at Moscow to the effect that if the forthcoming Conference at Constantinople did not lead to practical results, Russia would be forced to take up arms; and he counted on the support of his people. A week later 160,000 Russian troops were mobilised.

[Footnote 107: Hertslet, iv. p. 2508.]

The issue was thus clear as far as concerned Russia. It was not so clear for Great Britain. Even now, we are in ignorance as to the real intent of Lord Beaconsfield's speech at the Guildhall. It seems probable that, as there were divisions in his Cabinet, he may have wished to bring about such a demonstration of public feeling as would strengthen his hands in proposing naval and military preparations. The duties of a Prime Minister are so complex that his words may be viewed either in an international sense, or as prompted by administrative needs, or by his relations to his colleagues, or, again, they may be due merely to electioneering considerations. Whatever their real intent on this occasion, they were interpreted by Russia as a defiance and by Turkey as a promise of armed help.

On the other hand, if Lord Beaconsfield hoped to strengthen the pro-Turkish feeling in the Cabinet and the country, he failed. The resentment aroused by Turkish methods of rule and repression was too deep to be eradicated even by his skilful appeals to Imperialist sentiment. The Bulgarian atrocities had at least brought this much of good: they rendered a Turco-British alliance absolutely impossible.

Lord Derby had written to this effect on August 29 to Sir Henry Elliott: "The impression produced here by events in Bulgaria has completely destroyed sympathy with Turkey. The feeling is universal and so strong that even if Russia were to declare war against the Porte, Her Majesty's Government would find it practically impossible to interfere[108]."

[Footnote 108: Parliamentary Papers, Turkey, No. 6 (1877).]

The assembly of a Conference of the envoys of the Powers at Constantinople was claimed to be a decisive triumph for British diplomacy. There were indeed some grounds for hoping that Turkey would give way before a reunited Europe. The pressure brought to bear on the British Cabinet by public opinion resulted in instructions being given to Lord Salisbury (our representative, along with Sir H. Elliott, at the Conference) which did not differ much from the avowed aims of Russia and of the other Powers. Those instructions stated that the Powers could not accept mere promises of reform, for "the whole history of the Ottoman Empire, since it was admitted into the European Concert under the engagements of the Treaty of Paris [1856], has proved that the Porte is unable to guarantee the execution of reforms in the provinces by Turkish officials, who accept them with reluctance and neglect them with impunity." The Cabinet, therefore, insisted that there must be "external guarantees," but stipulated that no foreign armies must be introduced into Turkey[109]. Here alone British Ministers were at variance with the other Powers; and when, in the preliminary meetings of the Conference, a proposal was made to bring Belgian troops in order to guarantee the thorough execution of the proposed reforms, Lord Salisbury did not oppose it. In pursuance of instructions from London, he even warned the Porte that Britain would not give any help in case war resulted from its refusal of the European proposals.

[Footnote 109: Parliamentary Papers, Turkey, ii. (1877), No. 1; also, in part, in Hertslet, iv. p. 2517.]

It is well known that Lord Salisbury was far less pro-Turkish than the Prime Minister or the members of the British embassy at Constantinople. During a diplomatic tour that he had made to the chief capitals he convinced himself "that no Power was disposed to shield Turkey—not even Austria—if blood had to be shed for the status quo." (The words are those used by his assistant, Mr., afterwards Sir, William White.) He had had little or no difficulty in coming to an understanding with the Russian plenipotentiary, General Ignatieff, despite the intrigues of Sir Henry Elliott and his Staff to hinder it[110]. Indeed, the situation shows what might have been effected in May 1876, had not the Turks then received the support of the British Government.

[Footnote 110: Sir William White: Life and Correspondence, p. 117.]

Now, however, there were signs that the Turks declined to take the good advice of the Powers seriously; and on December 23, when the "full" meetings of the Conference began, the Sultan and his Ministers treated the plenipotentiaries to a display of injured virtue and reforming zeal that raised the situation to the level of the choicest comedy. In the midst of the proceedings, after the Turkish Foreign Minister, Safvet Pacha, had explained away the Bulgarian massacres as a myth woven by the Western imagination, salvoes of cannon were heard, that proclaimed the birth of a new and most democratic constitution for the whole of the Turkish Empire. Safvet did justice to the solemnity of the occasion; the envoys of the Powers suppressed their laughter; and before long, Lord Salisbury showed his resentment at this display of oriental irony and stubbornness by ordering the British Fleet to withdraw from Besika Bay[111].

[Footnote 111: See Gallenga (The Eastern Question, vol. ii. pp. 255-258) as to the scepticism regarding the new constitution, felt alike by foreigners and natives at Constantinople.]

But deeds and words were alike wasted on the Sultan and his Ministers. To all the proposals and warnings of the Powers they replied by pointing to the superior benefits about to be conferred by the new constitution. The Conference therefore speedily came to an end (Jan. 20). It had served its purpose. It had fooled Europe[112].

[Footnote 112: See Parl. Papers (1878), Turkey, No. 2, p. 114, for the constitution; and p. 302 for Lord Salisbury's criticisms on it; also ibid, pp. 344-345, for Turkey's final rejection of the proposals of the Powers.]

The responsibility for this act of cynical defiance must be assigned to one man. The Sultan had never before manifested a desire for any reform whatsoever; and it was not until December 19, 1876, that he named as Grand Vizier Midhat Pasha, who was known to have long been weaving constitutional schemes. This Turkish Sieyes was thrust to the front in time to promulgate that fundamental reform. His tenure of power, like that of the French constitution-monger in 1799, ended when the scheme had served the purpose of the real controller of events. Midhat obviously did not see whither things were tending. On January 24, 1877, he wrote to Said Pasha, stating that, according to the Turkish ambassador at London (Musurus Pasha), Lord Derby congratulated the Sublime Porte on the dissolution of the Conference, "which he considers a success for Turkey[113]."

[Footnote 113: Life of Midhat Pasha, by Midhat Ali (1903), p. 142. Musurus must have deliberately misrepresented Lord Derby.]

It therefore only remained to set the constitution in motion. After six days, when no sign of action was forthcoming, Midhat wrote to the Sultan in urgent terms, reminding him that their object in promulgating the constitution "was certainly not merely to find a solution of the so-called Eastern Question, nor to seek thereby to make a demonstration that should conciliate the sympathies of Europe, which had been estranged from us." This Note seems to have irritated the Sultan. Abdul Hamid, with his small, nervous, exacting nature, has always valued Ministers in proportion to their obedience, not to their power of giving timely advice. In every independent suggestion he sees the germ of opposition, and perhaps of a palace plot. He did so now. By way of reply, he bade Midhat come to the Palace. Midhat, fearing a trap, deferred his visit, until he received the assurance that the order for the reforms had been issued. Then he obeyed the summons; at once he was apprehended, and was hurried to the Sultan's yacht, which forthwith steamed away for the Aegean (Feb. 5). The fact that he remained above its waters, and was allowed to proceed to Italy, may be taken as proof that his zeal for reform had been not without its uses in the game which the Sultan had played against the Powers. The Turkish Parliament, which assembled on March 1, acted with the subservience that might have been expected after this lesson. The Sultan dissolved it on the outbreak of war, and thereafter gave up all pretence of constitutional forms. As for Midhat, he was finally lured back to Turkey and done to death. Such was the end of the Turkish constitution, of the Turkish Parliament, and of their contriver[114].

[Footnote 114: Life of Midhat Pasha, chaps. v.-vii. For the Sultan's character and habits, see an article in the Contemporary Review for December 1896, by D. Kelekian.]

Even the dissolution of the Conference of the Powers did not bring about war at once. It seems probable that the Czar hoped much from the statesmanlike conduct of Lord Salisbury at Constantinople, or perhaps he expected to secure the carrying out of the needed reforms by means of pressure from the Three Emperors' League (see Chapter XII.). But, unless the Russians gave up all interest in the fate of her kinsmen and co-religionists in Turkey, war was now the more probable outcome of events. Alexander had already applied to Germany for help, either diplomatic or military; but these overtures, of whatever kind, were declined by Bismarck—so he declared in his great speech of February 6, 1888. Accordingly, the Czar drew closer to Austria, with the result that the Reichstadt agreement of July 8, 1876, now assumed the form of a definitive treaty signed at Vienna between the two Powers on January 15, 1877.

The full truth on this subject is not known. M. Elie de Cyon, who claims to have seen the document, states that Austria undertook to remain neutral during the Russo-Turkish War, that she stipulated for a large addition of territory if the Turks were forced to quit Europe; also that a great Bulgaria should be formed, and that Servia and Montenegro should be extended so as to become conterminous. To the present writer this account appears suspect. It is inconceivable that Austria should have assented to an expansion of these principalities which would bar her road southward to Salonica[115].

[Footnote 115: Elie de Cyon, Histoire de l'Entente franco-russe, chap, i.; and in Nouvelle Revue for June 1, 1887. His account bears obvious signs of malice against Germany and Austria.]

Another and more probable version was given by the Hungarian Minister, M. Tisza, during the course of debates in the Hungarian Delegations in the spring of 1887, to this effect:—(1) No Power should claim an exclusive right of protecting the Christians of Turkey, and the Great Powers should pronounce on the results of the war; (2) Russia would annex no land on the right (south) bank of the Danube, would respect the integrity of Roumania, and refrain from touching Constantinople; (3) if Russia formed a new Slavonic State in the Balkans, it should not be at the expense of non-Slavonic peoples; and she would not claim special rights over Bulgaria, which was to be governed by a prince who was neither Russian nor Austrian; (4) Russia would not extend her military operations to the districts west of Bulgaria. These were the terms on which Austria agreed to remain neutral; and in certain cases she claimed to occupy Bosnia and Herzegovina[116].

[Footnote 116: Debidour, Hist. diplomatique de l'Europe (1814-1878), vol. ii. p. 502.] Doubtless these, or indeed any, concessions to Austria were repugnant to Alexander II. and Prince Gortchakoff; but her neutrality was essential to Russia's success in case war broke out; and the Czar's Government certainly acted with much skill in securing the friendly neutrality of the Power which in 1854 had exerted so paralysing a pressure on the Russian operations on the Lower Danube.

Nevertheless, Alexander II. still sought to maintain the European Concert with a view to the exerting of pacific pressure upon Turkey. Early in March he despatched General Ignatieff on a mission to the capitals of the Great Powers; except at Westminster, that envoy found opinion favourable to the adoption of some form of coercion against Turkey, in case the Sultan still hardened his heart against good advice. Even the Beaconsfield Ministry finally agreed to sign a Protocol, that of March 31, 1877, which recounted the efforts of the six Great Powers for the improvement of the lot of the Christians in Turkey, and expressed their approval of the promises of reform made by that State on February 13, 1876. Passing over without notice the new Turkish Constitution, the Powers declared that they would carefully watch the carrying out of the promised reforms, and that, if no improvement in the lot of the Christians should take place, "they [the Powers] reserve to themselves to consider in common as to the means which they may deem best fitted to secure the wellbeing of the Christian populations, and the interests of the general peace[117]." This final clause contained a suggestion scarcely less threatening than that with which the Berlin Memorandum had closed; and it is difficult to see why the British Cabinet, which now signed the London Protocol, should have wrecked that earlier effort of the Powers. In this as in other matters it is clear that the Cabinet was swayed by a "dual control."

[Footnote 117: Parl. Papers, Turkey, No. 9 (1877), p. 2.]

But now it was all one whether the British Government signed the Protocol or not. Turkey would have none of it. Despite Lord Derby's warning that "the Sultan would be very unwise if he would not endeavour to avail himself of the opportunity afforded him to arrange a mutual disarmament," that potentate refused to move a hair's-breadth from his former position. On the 12th of April the Turkish ambassador announced to Lord Derby the final decision of his Government: "Turkey, as an independent State, cannot submit to be placed under any surveillance, whether collective or not. . . . No consideration can arrest the Imperial Government in their determination to protest against the Protocol of the 31st March, and to consider it, as regards Turkey, as devoid of all equity, and consequently of all binding character." Lord Derby thereupon expressed his deep regret at this decision, and declared that he "did not see what further steps Her Majesty's Government could take to avert a war which appeared to have become inevitable[118]."

[Footnote 118: Parl. Papers, Turkey, No. 15 (1877), pp. 354-355.]

The Russian Government took the same view of the case, and on April 7-19, 1877, stated in a despatch that, as a pacific solution of the Eastern Question was now impossible, the Czar had ordered his armies to cross the frontiers of Turkey. The official declaration of war followed on April 12-24. From the point of view of Lord Derby this seemed "inevitable." Nevertheless, on May 1 he put his name to an official document which reveals the curious dualism which then prevailed in the Beaconsfield Cabinet. This reply to the Russian despatch contained the assertion that the last answer of the Porte did not remove all hope of deference on its part to the wishes and advice of Europe, and "that the decision of the Russian Government is not one which can have their concurrence or approval." We shall not be far wrong in assuming that, while the hand that signed this document was the hand of Derby, the spirit behind it was that of Beaconsfield.

In many quarters the action of Russia was stigmatised as the outcome of ambition and greed, rendered all the more odious by the cloak of philanthropy which she had hitherto worn. The time has not come when an exhaustive and decisive verdict can be given on this charge. Few movements have been free from all taint of meanness; but it is clearly unjust to rail against a great Power, because, at the end of a war which entailed frightful losses and a serious though temporary loss of prestige, it determined to exact from the enemy the only form of indemnity which was forthcoming, namely, a territorial indemnity. Russia's final claims, as will be seen, were open to criticism at several points; but the censure just referred to is puerile. It accords, however, with most of the criticisms passed in London "club-land," which were remarkable for their purblind cynicism.

No one who has studied the mass of correspondence contained in the Blue-books relating to Turkey in 1875-77 can doubt that the Emperor Alexander II. displayed marvellous patience in face of a series of brutal provocations by Moslem fanatics and the clamour of his own people for a liberating crusade. Bismarck, who did not like the Czar, stated that he did not want war, but waged it "under stress of Panslavist influence[119]." That some of his Ministers and Generals had less lofty aims is doubtless true; but practically all authorities are now agreed that the maintenance of the European Concert would have been the best means of curbing those aims. Yet, despite the irritating conduct of the Beaconsfield Cabinet, the Emperor Alexander sought to re-unite Europe with a view to the execution of the needed reforms in Turkey. Even after the successive rebuffs of the rejection of the Berlin Memorandum by Great Britain and of the suggestions of the Powers at Constantinople by Turkey, he succeeded in restoring the semblance of accord between the Powers, and of leaving to Turkey the responsibility of finally and insolently defying their recommendations. A more complete diplomatic triumph has rarely been won. It was the reward of consistency and patience, qualities in which the Beaconsfield Cabinet was signally lacking.

[Footnote 119: Bismarck: his Reflections and Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 259 (Eng. ed.).] We may notice one other criticism: that Russia's agreement with Austria implied the pre-existence of aggressive designs. This is by no means conclusive. That the Czar should have taken the precaution of coming to the arrangement of January 1877 with Austria does not prove that he was desirous of war. The attitude of Turkey during the Conference at Constantinople left but the slightest hope of peace. To prepare for war in such a case is not a proof of a desire for war, but only of common prudence.

Certain writers in France and Germany have declared that Bismarck was the real author of the Russo-Turkish War. The dogmatism of their assertions is in signal contrast with the thinness of their evidence[120]. It rests mainly on the statement that the Three Emperors' League (see Chapter XII.) was still in force; that Bismarck had come to some arrangement for securing gains to Austria in the south-east as a set-off to her losses in 1859 and 1866; that Austrian agents in Dalmatia had stirred up the Herzegovina revolt of 1875; and that Bismarck and Andrassy did nothing to avert the war of 1877. Possibly he had a hand in these events—he had in most events of the time; and there is a suspicious passage in his Memoirs as to the overtures made to Berlin in the autumn of 1876. The Czar's Ministers wished to know whether, in the event of a war with Austria, they would have the support of Germany. To this the Chancellor replied, that Germany could not allow the present equilibrium of the monarchical Powers to be disturbed: "The result . . . was that the Russian storm passed from Eastern Galicia to the Balkans[121]." Thereafter Russia came to terms with Austria as described above.

[Footnote 120: Elie de Cyon, op. cit. chap. i.; also in Nouvelle Revue for 1880.]

[Footnote 121: Bismarck, Recollections and Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 231 (Eng. ed.).]

But the passage just cited only proves that Russia might have gone to war with Austria over the Eastern Question. In point of fact, she went to war with Turkey, after coming to a friendly arrangement with Austria. Bismarck therefore acted as "honest-broker" between his two allies; and it has yet to be proved that Bismarck did not sincerely work with the two other Empires to make the coercion of Turkey by the civilised Powers irresistibly strong. In his speech of December 6, 1876, to the Reichstag, the Chancellor made a plain and straightforward declaration of his policy, namely, that of neutrality, but inclining towards friendship with Austria. That, surely, did not drive Russia into war with Turkey, still less entice her into it. As for the statement that Austrian intrigues were the sole cause of the Bosnian revolt, it must appear childish to all who bear in mind the exceptional hardships and grievances of the peasants of that province. Finally, the assertion of a newspaper, the Czas, that Queen Victoria wrote to Bismarck in April 1877 urging him to protest against an attack by Russia on Turkey, may be dismissed as an impudent fabrication[122]. It was altogether opposed to the habits of her late Majesty to write letters of that kind to the Foreign Ministers of other Powers.

[Footnote 122: Busch, Our Chancellor, vol. ii. p. 126.]

Until documents of a contrary tenor come to light, we may say with some approach to certainty that the responsibility for the war of 1877-78 rests with the Sultan of Turkey and with those who indirectly encouraged him to set at naught the counsels of the Powers. Lord Derby and Lord Salisbury had of late plainly warned him of the consequences of his stubbornness; but the influence of the British embassy at Constantinople and of the Turkish ambassador in London seems greatly to have weakened the force of those warnings.

It must always be remembered that the Turk will concede religious freedom and civic equality to the "Giaours" only under overwhelming pressure. In such a case he mutters "Kismet" ("It is fate"), and gives way; but the least sign of weakness or wavering on the part of the Powers awakens his fanatical scruples. Then his devotion to the Koran forbids any surrender. History has afforded several proofs of this, from the time of the Battle of Navarino (1827) to that of the intervention of the Western Powers on behalf of the slaughtered and harried Christians of the Lebanon (1860). Unfortunately Abdul Hamid had now come to regard the Concert of the Powers as a "loud-sounding nothing." With the usual bent of a mean and narrow nature he detected nothing but hypocrisy in its lofty professions, and self-seeking in its philanthropic aims, together with a treacherous desire among influential persons to make the whole scheme miscarry. Accordingly he fell back on the boundless fund of inertia, with which a devout Moslem ruler blocks the way to western reforms. A competent observer has finely remarked that the Turk never changes; his neighbours, his frontiers, his statute-books may change, but his ideas and his practice remain always the same. He will not be interfered with; he will not improve[123]. To this statement we must add that only under dire necessity will he allow his Christian subjects to improve. The history of the Eastern Question may be summed up in these assertions.

[Footnote 123: Turkey in Europe, by Odysseus, p. 139.]

Abdul Hamid II. is the incarnation of the reactionary forces which have brought ruin to Turkey and misery to her Christian subjects. He owed his crown to a recrudescence of Moslem fanaticism; and his reign has illustrated the unsuspected strength and ferocity of his race and creed in face of the uncertain tones in which Christendom has spoken since the spring of the year 1876. The reasons which prompted his defiance a year later were revealed by his former Grand Vizier, Midhat Pasha, in an article in the Nineteenth Century for June 1877. The following passage is especially illuminating:—

Turkey was not unaware of the attitude of the English Government towards her; the British Cabinet had declared in clear terms that it would not interfere in our dispute. This decision of the English Cabinet was perfectly well known to us, but we knew still better that the general interests of Europe and the particular interests of England were so bound up in our dispute with Russia that, in spite of all the Declarations of the English Cabinet, it appeared to us to be absolutely impossible for her to avoid interfering sooner or later in this Eastern dispute. This profound belief, added to the reasons we have mentioned, was one of the principal factors of our contest with Russia[124].

[Footnote 124: See, too, the official report of our pro-Turkish Ambassador at Constantinople, Mr. Layard (May 30, 1877), as to the difficulty of our keeping out of the war in its final stages (Parl. Papers, Turkey, No. 26 (1877), p. 52).]

It appears, then, that the action of the British Government in the spring and summer of 1876, and the well-known desire of the Prime Minister to intervene in favour of Turkey, must have contributed to the Sultan's decision to court the risks of war rather than allow any intervention of the Powers on behalf of his Christian subjects.

The information that has come to light from various quarters serves to strengthen the case against Lord Beaconsfield's policy in the years 1875-77. The letter written by Mr. White to Sir Robert Morier on January 16, 1877, and referred to above, shows that his diplomatic experience had convinced him of the futility of supporting Turkey against the Powers. In that letter he made use of these significant words:—"You know me well enough. I did not come here (Constantinople) to deceive Lord Salisbury or to defend an untenable Russophobe or pro-Turkish policy. There will probably be a difference of opinion in the Cabinet as to our future line of policy, and I shall not wonder if Lord Salisbury should upset Dizzy and take his place or leave the Government on this question. If he does the latter, the coach is indeed upset." Mr. White also referred to the personnel of the British Embassy at Constantinople in terms which show how mischievous must have been its influence on the counsels of the Porte.

A letter from Sir Robert Morier of about the same date proves that that experienced diplomatist also saw the evil results certain to accrue from the Beaconsfield policy:—"I have not ceased to din that into the ears of the F.O. (Foreign Office), to make ourselves the point d'appui of the Christians in the Turkish Empire, and thus take all the wind out of the sails of Russia; and after the population had seen the difference between an English and a Russian occupation [of the disturbed parts of Turkey] it would jump to the eyes even of the blind, and we should debuter into a new policy at Constantinople with an immense advantage[125]." This advice was surely statesmanlike. To support the young and growing nationalities in Turkey would serve, not only to checkmate the supposed aggressive designs of Russia, but also to array on the side of Britain the progressive forces of the East. To rely on the Turk was to rely on a moribund creature. It was even worse. It implied an indirect encouragement to the "sick man" to enter on a strife for which he was manifestly unequal, and in which we did not mean to help him. But these considerations failed to move Lord Beaconsfield and the Foreign Office from the paths of tradition and routine[126].

[Footnote 125: Sir William White: Life and Correspondence, pp. 115-117.]

[Footnote 126: For the power of tradition in the Foreign Office, see Sir William White: Life and Correspondence, p. 119.]

Finally, in looking at the events of 1875-76 in their broad outlines, we may note the verdict of a veteran diplomatist, whose conduct before the Crimean War proved him to be as friendly to the interests of Turkey as he was hostile to those of Russia, but who now saw that the situation differed utterly from that which was brought about by the aggressive action of Czar Nicholas I. in 1854. In a series of letters to the Times he pointed out the supreme need of joint action by all the Powers who signed the Treaty of Paris; that that treaty by no means prohibited their intervention in the affairs of Turkey; that wise and timely intervention would be to the advantage of that State; that the Turks had always yielded to coercion if it were of overwhelming strength, but only on those terms; and that therefore the severance of England from the European Concert was greatly to be deplored[127]. In private this former champion of Turkey went even farther, and declared on Sept. 10, 1876, that the crisis in the East would not have become acute had Great Britain acted conjointly with the Powers[128]. There is every reason to believe that posterity will endorse this judgment of Lord Stratford de Redcliffe.

[Footnote 127: Letters of Dec. 31, 1875, May 16, 1876, and Sept. 9, 1876, republished with others in The Eastern Question, by Lord Stratford de Redcliffe (1881).]

[Footnote 128: J. Morley, Life of Gladstone, vol. ii. p. 555.]



CHAPTER VIII

THE RUSSO-TURKISH WAR

"Knowledge of the great operations of war can be acquired only by experience and by the applied study of the campaigns of all the great captains. Gustavus, Turenne, and Frederick, as well as Alexander, Hannibal, and Caesar, have all acted on the same principles. To keep one's forces together, to bear speedily on any point, to be nowhere vulnerable,—such are the principles that assure victory."—NAPOLEON.

Despite the menace to Russia contained in the British Note of May 1, 1877, there was at present little risk of a collision between the two Powers for the causes already stated. The Government of the Czar showed that it desired to keep on friendly terms with the Cabinet of St. James, for, in reply to a statement of Lord Derby that the security of Constantinople, Egypt, and the Suez Canal was a matter of vital concern for Great Britain, the Russian Chancellor, Prince Gortchakoff, on May 30 sent the satisfactory assurance that the two latter would remain outside the sphere of military operations; that the acquisition of the Turkish capital was "excluded from the views of His Majesty the Emperor," and that its future was a question of common interest which could be settled only by a general understanding among the Powers[129]. As long as Russia adhered to these promises there could scarcely be any question of Great Britain intervening on behalf of Turkey.

[Footnote 129: Hertslet, vol. iv. p. 2625.]

Thus the general situation in the spring of 1877 scarcely seemed to warrant the hopes with which the Turks entered on the war. They stood alone confronting a Power which had vastly greater resources in men and treasure. Seeing that the Sultan had recently repudiated a large part of the State debt, and could borrow only at exorbitant rates of interest, it is even now mysterious how his Ministers managed to equip very considerable forces, and to arm them with quick-firing rifles and excellent cannon. The Turk is a born soldier, and will fight for nothing and live on next to nothing when his creed is in question; but that does not solve the problem how the Porte could buy huge stores of arms and ammunition. It had procured 300,000 American rifles, and bought 200,000 more early in the war. On this topic we must take refuge in the domain of legend, and say that the life of Turkey is the life of a phoenix: it now and again rises up fresh and defiant among the flames.

As regards the Ottoman army, an English officer in its service, Lieutenant W.V. Herbert, states that the artillery was very good, despite the poor supply of horses; that the infantry was very good; the regular cavalry mediocre, the irregular cavalry useless. He estimates the total forces in Europe and Asia at 700,000; but, as he admits that the battalions of 800 men rarely averaged more than 600, that total is clearly fallacious. An American authority believes that Turkey had not more than 250,000 men ready in Europe and that of these not more than 165,000 were north of the Balkans when the Russians advanced towards the Danube[130]. Von Lignitz credits the Turks with only 215,000 regular troops and 100,000 irregulars (Bashi Bazouks and Circassians) in the whole Empire; of these he assigns two-thirds to European Turkey[131].

[Footnote 130: The Campaign in Bulgaria, by F.V. Greene, pt. ii. ch. i.; W.V. Herbert, The Defence of Plevna, chaps, i.-ii.]

[Footnote 131: Aus drei Kriegen, by Gen. von Lignitz, p. 99.]

It seemed, then, that Russia had no very formidable task before her. Early in May seven army corps began to move towards that great river. They included 180 battalions of infantry, 200 squadrons of cavalry, and 800 guns—in all about 200,000 men. Their cannon were inferior to those of the Turks, but this seemed a small matter in view of the superior numbers which Russia seemed about to place in the field. The mobilisation of her huge army, however, went on slowly, and produced by no means the numbers that were officially reported. Our military attache at the Russian headquarters, Colonel Wellesley, reported this fact to the British Government; and, on this being found out, incurred disagreeable slights from the Russian authorities[132].

[Footnote 132: With the Russians in War and Peace, by Colonel F.A. Wellesley (1905), ch. xvii.]

Meanwhile Russia had secured the co-operation of Roumania by a convention signed on April 16, whereby the latter State granted a free passage through that Principality, and promised friendly treatment to the Muscovite troops. The Czar in return pledged himself to "maintain and defend the actual integrity of Roumania[133]." The sequel will show how this promise was fulfilled. For the present it seemed that the interests of the Principality were fully secured. Accordingly Prince Charles (elder brother of the Prince Leopold of Hohenzollern, whose candidature for the Crown of Spain made so much stir in 1870) took the further step of abrogating the suzerainty of the Sultan over Roumania (June 3).

[Footnote 133: Hertslet, vol. iv. p. 2577.]

Even before the declaration of independence Roumania had ventured on a few acts of war against Turkey; but the co-operation of her army, comprising 50,000 regulars and 70,000 National Guards, with that of Russia proved to be a knotty question. The Emperor Alexander II., on reaching the Russian headquarters at Plojeschti, to the north of Bukharest, expressed his wish to help the Roumanian army, but insisted that it must be placed under the commander-in-chief of the Russian forces, the Grand Duke Nicholas. To this Prince Charles demurred, and the Roumanian troops at first took no active part in the campaign. Undoubtedly their non-arrival served to mar the plans of the Russian Staff[134].

[Footnote 134: Reminiscences of the King of Roumania, edited by S. Whitman (1899), pp. 269, 274.] Delays multiplied from the outset. The Russians, not having naval superiority in the Black Sea which helped to gain them their speedy triumph in the campaign of 1828, could only strike through Roumania and across the Danube and the difficult passes of the middle Balkans. Further, as the Roumanian railways had but single lines, the movement of men and stores to the Danube was very slow. Numbers of the troops, after camping on its marshy banks (for the river was then in flood), fell ill of malarial fever; above all, the carelessness of the Russian Staff and the unblushing peculation of its subordinates and contractors clogged the wheels of the military machine. One result of it was seen in the bad bread supplied to the troops. A Roumanian officer, when dining with the Grand Duke Nicholas, ventured to compare the ration bread of the Russians with the far better bread supplied to his own men at cheaper rates. The Grand Duke looked at the two specimens and then—talked of something else[135]. Nothing could be done until the flood subsided and large bodies of troops were ready to threaten the Turkish line of defence at several points[136]. The Ottoman position by no means lacked elements of strength. The first of these was the Danube itself. The task of crossing a great river in front of an active foe is one of the most dangerous of all military operations. Any serious miscalculation of the strength, the position, or the mobility of the enemy's forces may lead to an irreparable disaster; and until the bridges used for the crossing are defended by tetes de pont the position of the column that has passed over is precarious.

[Footnote 135: Farcy, La Guerre sur le Danube, p. 73. For other malpractices see Colonel F.A. Wellesley's With the Russians in Peace and War, chs. xi. xii.]

[Footnote 136: Punch hit off the situation by thus parodying the well-known line of Horace: "Russicus expectat dum defluat amnis."]

The Danube is especially hard to cross, because its northern bank is for the most part marshy, and is dominated by the southern bank. The German strategist, von Moltke, who knew Turkey well, and had written the best history of the Russo-Turkish War of 1828, maintained that the passage of the Danube must cost the invaders upwards of 50,000 men. Thereafter, they would be threatened by the Quadrilateral of fortresses—Rustchuk, Shumla, Varna, and Silistria. Three of these were connected by railway, which enabled the Turks to send troops quickly from the port of Varna to any position between the mountain stronghold of Shumla and the riverine fortress, Rustchuk.

Even the non-military reader will see by a glance at the map that this Quadrilateral, if strongly held, practically barred the roads leading to the Balkans on their eastern side. It also endangered the march of an invading army through the middle of Bulgaria to the central passes of that chain. Moreover, there are in that part only two or three passes that can be attempted by an army with artillery. The fortress of Widdin, where Osman Pasha was known to have an army of about 40,000 seasoned troops, dominated the west of Bulgaria and the roads leading to the easier passes of the Balkans near Sofia.

These being the difficulties that confronted the invaders in Europe, it is not surprising that the first important battles took place in Asia. On the Armenian frontier the Russians, under Loris Melikoff, soon gained decided advantages, driving back the Turks with considerable losses on Kars and Erzeroum. The tide of war soon turned in that quarter, but, for the present, the Muscovite triumphs sent a thrill of fear through Turkey, and probably strengthened the determination of Abdul-Kerim, the Turkish commander-in-chief in Europe, to maintain a cautious defensive.



Much could be said in favour of a "Fabian" policy of delay. Large Turkish forces were in the western provinces warring against Montenegro, or watching Austria, Servia, and Greece. It is even said that Abdul-Kerim had not at first more than about 120,000 men in the whole of Bulgaria, inclusive of the army at Widdin. But obviously, if the invaders so far counted on his weakness as to thrust their columns across the Danube in front of forces that could be secretly and swiftly strengthened by drafts from the south and west, they would expose themselves to the gravest risks. The apologists of Abdul-Kerim claim that such was his design, and that the signs of sluggishness which he at first displayed formed a necessary part of a deep-laid scheme for luring the Russians to their doom. Let the invaders enter Central Bulgaria in force, and expose their flanks to Abdul-Kerim in the Quadrilateral, and to Osman Pasha at Widdin; then the Turks, by well-concerted moves against those flanks, would drive the enemy back on the Danube, and perhaps compel a large part of his forces to lay down their arms. Such is their explanation of the conduct of Abdul-Kerim.

As the Turkish Government is wholly indifferent to the advance of historical knowledge, it is impossible even now to say whether this idea was definitely agreed on as the basis of the plan of campaign. There are signs that Abdul-Kerim and Osman Pasha adopted it, but whether it was ever approved by the War Council at Constantinople is a different question. Such a plan obviously implied the possession of great powers of self-control by the Sultan and his advisers, in face of the initial success of the Russians; and unless that self-control was proof against panic, the design could not but break down at the crucial point. Signs are not wanting that in the suggestions here tentatively offered, we find a key that unlocks the riddle of the Danubian campaign of 1877.

At first Abdul-Kerim in the Quadrilateral, and Osman at Widdin, maintained a strict defensive. The former posted small bodies of troops, probably not more than 20,000 in all, at Sistova, Nicopolis, and other neighbouring points. But, apart from a heavy bombardment of Russian and Roumanian posts on the northern bank, neither commander did much to mar the hostile preparations. This want of initiative, which contrasted with the enterprise displayed by the Turks in 1854, enabled the invaders to mature their designs with little or no interruption.

The Russian plan of campaign was to destroy or cripple the four small Turkish ironclads that patrolled the lower reaches of the river, to make feints at several points, and to force a passage at two places—first near Ibrail into the Dobrudscha, and thereafter, under cover of that diversion, from Simnitza to Sistova. The latter place of crossing combined all the possible advantages. It was far enough away from the Turkish Quadrilateral to afford the first essentials of safety; it was known to be but weakly held; its position on the shortest line of road between the Danube and a practicable pass of the Balkans—the Shipka Pass—formed a strong recommendation; while the presence of an island helped on the first preparations.

The flood of the Danube having at last subsided, all was ready by midsummer. Russian batteries and torpedo-boats had destroyed two Turkish armoured gunboats in the lower reaches of the river, and on June 22 a Russian force crossed in boats from a point near Galatz to Matchin, and made good their hold on the Dobrudscha.

Preparations were also ripe at Simnitza. In the narrow northern arm of the river the boats and pontoons collected by the Russians were launched with no difficulty, the island was occupied, and on the night of June 26-27, a Volhynian regiment, along with Cossacks, crossed in boats over the broad arm of the river, there some 1000 yards wide, and gained a foothold on the bank. Already their numbers were thinned by a dropping fire from a Turkish detachment; but the Turks made the mistake of trusting to the bullet instead of plying the bayonet. Before dawn broke, the first-comers had been able to ensconce themselves under a bank until other boats came up. Then with rousing cheers they charged the Turks and pressed them back.

This was the scene which greeted the eyes of General Dragomiroff as his boat drew near to the shore at 5 A.M. Half hidden by the morning mist, the issue seemed doubtful. But at his side stood a general, fresh from triumphs in Turkestan, who had begged to be allowed to come as volunteer or aide-de-camp. When Dragomiroff, in an agony of suspense, lowered his glass, the other continued to gaze, and at last exclaimed: "I congratulate you on your victory." "Where do you see that?" asked Dragomiroff "Where? on the faces of the soldiers. Look at them. Watch them as they charge the enemy. It is a pleasure to see them." The verdict was true. It was the verdict of Skobeleff[137].

[Footnote 137: Quoted from a report by an eye-witness, by "O.K." (Madame Novikoff), Skobeleff and the Slavonic Cause, p. 38. The crossing was planned by the Grand Duke Nicholas; see von Lignitz, Aus drei Kriegen, p. 149.]

Such was the first appearance in European warfare of the greatest leader of men that Russia has produced since the days of Suvoroff. The younger man resembled that sturdy veteran in his passion for war, his ambition, and that frank, bluff bearing which always wins the hearts of the soldiery. The grandson of a peasant, whose bravery had won him promotion in the great year, 1812; the son of a general whose prowess was renowned—Skobeleff was at once a commander and a soldier. "Ah! he knew the soul of a soldier as if he were himself a private." These were the words often uttered by the Russians about Skobeleff; similar things had been said of Suvoroff in his day. For champions such as these the emotional Slavs will always pour out their blood like water. But, like the captor of Warsaw, Skobeleff knew when to put aside the bayonet and win the day by skill. Both were hard hitters, but they had a hold on the principles of the art of war. The combination of these qualities was formidable; and many Russians believe that, had the younger man, with his magnificent physique and magnetic personality, enjoyed the length of days vouchsafed to the diminutive Suvoroff, he would have changed the face of two continents.

The United States attache to the Russian army in the Russo-Turkish War afterwards spoke of his military genius as "stupendous," and prophesied that, should he live twenty years longer, and lead the Russian armies in the next Turkish war, he would win a place side by side with "Napoleon, Wellington, Grant, and Moltke." To equate these four names is a mark of transatlantic enthusiasm rather than of balanced judgment; but the estimate, so far as it concerns Skobeleff, reflects the opinion of nearly all who knew him[138].

[Footnote 138: F.V. Green, Sketches of Army Life in Russia, p. 142.]

Encouraged by the advent of Skobeleff and Dragomiroff, the Russians assumed the offensive with full effect, and by the afternoon of that eventful day, had mastered the rising ground behind Sistova. Here again the Turkish defence was tame. The town was unfortified, but its outskirts presented facilities for defence. Nevertheless, under the pressure of the Russian attack and of artillery fire from the north bank, the small Turkish garrison gave up the town and retreated towards Rustchuk. At many points on that day the Russians treated their foes to a heavy bombardment or feints of crossing, especially at Nicopolis and Rustchuk; and this accounts for the failure of the defenders to help the weak garrison on which fell the brunt of the attack. All things considered, the crossing of the Danube must rank as a highly creditable achievement, skilfully planned and stoutly carried out; it cost the invaders scarcely 700 men[139].

[Footnote 139: Farcy, La Guerre sur le Danube, ch. viii.; Daily News Correspondence of the War of 1877-78, ch. viii.]

They now threw a pontoon-bridge across the Danube between Simnitza and Sistova; and by July 2 had 65,000 men and 244 cannon in and near the latter town. Meanwhile, their 14th corps held the central position of Babadagh in the Dobrudscha, thereby preventing any attack from the north-east side of the Quadrilateral against their communications with the south of Russia.

It may be questioned, however, whether the invaders did well to keep so large a force in the Dobrudscha, seeing that a smaller body of light troops patrolling the left bank of the lower Danube or at the tete de pont at Matchin would have answered the same purpose. The chief use of the crossing at Matchin was to distract the attention of the enemy, an advance through the unhealthy district of the Dobrudscha against the Turkish Quadrilateral being in every way risky; above all, the retention of a whole corps on that side weakened the main line of advance, that from Sistova; and here it was soon clear that the Russians had too few men for the enterprise in hand. The pontoon-bridge over the Danube was completed by July 2—a fact which enabled those troops which were in Roumania to be hurried forward to the front.

Obviously it was unsafe to march towards the Balkans until both flanks were secured against onsets from the Quadrilateral on the east, and from Nicopolis and Widdin on the west. At Nicopolis, twenty-five miles away, there were about 10,000 Turks; and around Widdin, about 100 miles farther up the stream, Osman mustered 40,000 more. To him Abdul-Kerim now sent an order to march against the flank of the invaders.

Nor were the Balkan passes open to the Russians; for, after the crossing of the Danube, Reuf Pasha had orders to collect all available troops for their defence, from the Shipka Pass to the Slievno Pass farther east; 7000 men now held the Shipka; about 10,000 acted as a general reserve at Slievno; 3000 were thrown forward to Tirnova, where the mountainous country begins, and detachments held the more difficult tracks over the mountains. An urgent message was also sent to Suleiman Pasha to disengage the largest possible force from the Montenegrin war; and, had he received this message in time, or had he acted with the needful speed and skill, events might have gone very differently.

For some time the Turks seemed to be paralysed at all points by the vigour of the Muscovite movements. Two corps, the 13th and 14th, marched south-east from Sistova to the torrent of the Jantra, or Yantra, and seized Biela, an important centre of roads in that district. This secured them against any immediate attack from the Quadrilateral. The Grand Duke Nicholas also ordered the 9th corps, under the command of General Kruedener, to advance from Sistova and attack the weakly fortified town of Nicopolis. Aided by the Roumanian guns on the north bank of the Danube, this corps succeeded in overpowering the defence and capturing the town, along with 7000 troops and 110 guns (July 16).

Thus the invaders seemed to have gained a secure base on the Danube, from Sistova to Nicopolis, whence they could safely push forward their vanguard to the Balkans. In point of fact their light troops had already seized one of its more difficult passes—an exploit that will always recall the name of that dashing leader, General Gurko. The plan now to be described was his conception; it was approved by the Grand Duke Nicholas. Setting out from Sistova and drawing part of his column from the forces at Biela, Gurko first occupied the important town of Tirnova, the small Turkish garrison making a very poor attempt to defend the old Bulgarian capital (July 7). The liberators there received an overwhelming ovation, and gained many recruits for the "Bulgarian Legion." Pushing ahead, the Cossacks and Dragoons seized large supplies of provisions stored by the Turks, and gained valuable news respecting the defences of the passes.

The Shipka Pass, due south of Tirnova, was now strongly held, and Turkish troops were hurrying towards the two passes north of Slievno, some fifty miles farther east. Even so they had not enough men at hand to defend all the passes of the mountain chain that formed their chief line of defence. They left one of them practically undefended; this was the Khainkoi Pass, having an elevation of 3700 feet above the sea.

A Russian diplomatist, Prince Tserteleff, who was charged to collect information about the passes, found that the Khainkoi enjoyed an evil reputation. "Ill luck awaits him who crosses the Khainkoi Pass," so ran the local proverb. He therefore determined to try it; by dint of questioning the friendly Bulgarian peasantry he found one man who had been through it once, and that was two years before with an ox-cart. Where an ox-cart could go, a light mountain gun could go. Accordingly, the Prince and General Rauch went with 200 Cossacks to explore the pass, set the men to work at the worst places, and, thanks to the secrecy observed by the peasantry, soon made the path to the summit practicable for cavalry and light guns. The Prince disguised himself as a Bulgarian shepherd to examine the southern outlet; and, on his bringing a favourable report, 11,000 men of Gurko's command began to thread the intricacies of the defile.

Thanks to good food, stout hearts, jokes, and songs, they managed to get the guns up the worst places. Then began the perils of the descent. But the Turks knew nothing of their effort, else it might have ended far otherwise. At the southern end 300 Turkish regulars were peacefully smoking their pipes and cooking their food when the Cossack and Rifles in the vanguard burst upon them, drove them headlong, and seized the village of Khainkoi. A pass over the Balkans had been secured at the cost of two men killed and three wounded. Gurko was almost justified in sending to the Grand Duke Nicholas the proud vaunt that none but Russian soldiers could have brought field artillery over such a pass, and in the short space of three days (July 11-14)[140].

[Footnote 140: General Gurko's Advance Guard In 1877, by Colonel Epauchin, translated by H. Havelock (The Wolseley Series, 1900), ch. ii.; The Daily News War Correspondence (1877), pp. 263-270.]

After bringing his column of 11,000 men through the pass, Gurko drove off four Turkish battalions sent against him from the Shipka Pass and Kazanlik. Next he sent out bands of Cossacks to spread terror southwards, and delude the Turks into the belief that he meant to strike at the important towns, Jeni Zagra and Eski Zagra, on the road to Adrianople. Having thus caused them to loosen their grip on Kazanlik and the Shipka, he wheeled his main force to the westward (leaving 3500 men to hold the exit of the Khainkoi), and drove the Turks successively from positions in front of the town, from the town itself, and then from the village of Shipka. Above that place towered the mighty wall of the Balkans, lessened somewhat at the pass itself, but presenting even there a seemingly impregnable position.

Gurko, however, relied on the discouragement of the Turkish garrison after the defeats of their comrades, and at seeing their positions turned on the south while they were also threatened on the north. For another Russian column had advanced from Tirnova up the more gradual northern slopes of the Balkans, and now began to hammer at the defences of the pass on that side. The garrison consisted of six and a half battalions under Khulussi Pasha, and the wreckage of five battalions already badly beaten by Gurko's column. These, with one battery of artillery, held the pass and the neighbouring peaks, which they had in part fortified.

In pursuance of a pre-arranged plan for a joint attack on July 17 of both Russian forces, the northern body advanced up the slopes; but, as Gurko's men were unable to make their diversion in time, the attack failed. An isolated attempt by Gurko's force on the next day also failed, the defenders disgracing themselves by tricking the Russians with the white flag and firing upon them. But the Turks were now in difficulties for want of food and water; or possibly they were seized with panic. At any rate, while amusing the Russians with proposals of surrender, they stole off in small bodies, early on July 19. The truth was, ere long, found out by outposts of the north Russian forces; Skobeleff and his men were soon at the summit, and there Gurko's vanguard speedily joined them with shouts of joy.

Thus, within twenty-three days from the crossing of the Danube Gurko seized two passes of the Balkans, besides capturing 800 prisoners and 13 guns. It is not surprising that a Turkish official despatch of July 21 to Suleiman summed up the position: "The existence of the Empire hangs on a hair." And when Gurko's light troops proceeded to raid the valley of the Maritsa, it seemed that the Turkish defence would collapse as helplessly as in the memorable campaign of 1828. We must add here that the Bulgarians now began to revenge themselves for the outrages of May 1876; and the struggle was sullied by horrible acts on both sides.

The impression produced by these dramatic strokes was profound and widespread. The British fleet was sent to Besika Bay, a step preparatory, as it seemed, to steaming up the Dardanelles to the Sea of Marmora. At Adrianople crowds of Moslems fled away in wild confusion towards Constantinople. There the frequent meetings of ministers at the Sultan's palace testified to the extent of the alarm; and that nervous despot wavered between the design of transferring the seat of government to Brussa in Asia Minor, and that of unfurling the standard of the Prophet and summoning all the faithful to rally to its defence against the infidels. Finally he took courage from despair, and adopted the more manly course. But first he disgraced his ministers. The War Minister and Abdul-Kerim were summarily deposed, the latter being sent off as prisoner to the island of Lemnos.

All witnesses agree that the War Minister, Redif Pasha, was incapable and corrupt. The age and weakness of Abdul-Kerim might have excused his comparative inaction in the Quadrilateral in the first half of July. It is probable that his plan of campaign, described above, was sound; but he lacked the vigour, and the authorities at Constantinople lacked the courage, to carry it out thoroughly and consistently.

Mehemet Ali Pasha, a renegade German, who had been warring with some success in Montenegro, assumed the supreme command on July 22; and Suleiman Pasha, who, with most of his forces had been brought by sea from Antivari to the mouth of the River Maritsa, now gathered together all the available troops for the defence of Roumelia.

The Czar, on his side, cherished hopes of ending the war while Fortune smiled on his standards. There are good grounds for thinking that he had entered on it with great reluctance. In its early stages he let the British Government know of his desire to come to terms with Turkey; and now his War Minister, General Milutin, hinted to Colonel F.A. Wellesley, British attache at headquarters, that the mediation of Great Britain would be welcomed by Russia. That officer on July 30 had an interview with the Emperor, who set forth the conditions on which he would be prepared to accept peace with Turkey. They were—the recovery of the strip of Bessarabia lost in 1856, and the acquisition of Batoum in Asia Minor. Alexander II. also stated that he would not occupy Constantinople unless that step were necessitated by the course of events; that the Powers would be invited to a conference for the settlement of Turkish affairs; and that he had no wish to interfere with the British spheres of interest already referred to. Colonel Wellesley at once left headquarters for London, but on the following day the aspect of the campaign underwent a complete change, which, in the opinion of the British Government, rendered futile all hope of a settlement on the conditions laid down by the Czar.[141]

[Footnote 141: Parl. Papers, Turkey, No. 9 (1878), Nos. 2, 3. With the Russians in Peace and War, by Colonel the Hon. F.A. Wellesley, ch. xx.]

For now, when the Turkish cause seemed irrevocably lost, the work of a single brave man to the north of the Balkans dried up, as if by magic, the flood of invasion, brought back victory to the standards of Islam, and bade fair to overwhelm the presumptuous Muscovites in the waters of the Danube. Moltke in his account of the war of 1828, had noted a peculiarity of the Ottomans in warfare (a characteristic which they share with the glorious defenders of Saragossa in 1808) of beginning the real defence when others would abandon it as hopeless. This remark, if not true of the Turkish army as a whole, certainly applies to that part of it which was thrilled to deeds of daring by Osman Pasha.

More fighting had fallen to him perhaps than to any Turk of his time. He was now forty years of age; his frame, slight and of middle height, gave no promise of strength or capacity; neither did his face, until the observer noted the power of his eyes to take in the whole situation "with one slow comprehensive look[142]." This gave him a magnetic faculty, the effect of which was not wholly marred by his disdainful manners, curt speech, and contemptuous treatment of foreigners. Clearly here was a cold, sternly objective nature like that of Bonaparte. He was a good representative of the stolid Turk of the provinces, who, far from the debasing influence of the Court, retains the fanaticism and love of war on behalf of his creed that make his people terrible even in the days of decline[143].

[Footnote 142: W.W. Herbert, The Defence of Plevna, p. 81.]

[Footnote 143: For these qualities, see Turkey in Europe, by "Odysseus," p. 97.]

In accordance with the original design of Abdul-Kerim, Osman had for some time remained passive at Widdin. On receiving orders from the commander-in-chief, he moved eastwards on July 13, with 40,000 men, to save Nicopolis. Finding himself too late to save that place he then laid his plans for the seizure of Plevna. The importance of that town, as a great centre of roads, and as possessing many advantages for defence on the hills around, had been previously pointed out to the Russian Staff by Prince Charles of Roumania, as indeed, earlier still, by Moltke. Accordingly, the Grand Duke Nicholas had directed a small force of cavalry towards that town. General Kruedener made the mistake of recalling it in order to assist in the attack on Nicopolis on July 14-16, an unlucky move, which enabled Osman to occupy Plevna without resistance on July 19[144]. On the 18th the Grand Duke Nicholas ordered General Kruedener to occupy Plevna. Knowing nothing of Osman's whereabouts, his vanguard advanced heedlessly on the town, only to meet with a very decided repulse, which cost the Russians 3000 men (July 20).

[Footnote 144: Herbert, The Defence of Plevna, p. 129.]

Osman now entrenched himself on the open downs that stretch eastwards from Plevna. As will be seen by reference to the map on page 213, his position, roughly speaking, formed an ellipse pointing towards the village of Grivitza. Above that village his engineers threw up two great redoubts which dominated the neighbourhood. Other redoubts and trenches screened Plevna on the north-east and south. Finally, the crowns of three main slopes lying to the east of Plevna bristled with defensive works. West of the town lay the deep vale of the little River Wid, itself the chief defence on that side. We may state here that during the long operations against Plevna the Russians had to content themselves with watching this western road to Orkanye and Sofia by means of cavalry; but the reinforcements from Sofia generally made their way in. From that same quarter the Turks were also able to despatch forces to occupy the town of Lovtcha, between Plevna and the Shipka Pass.

The Russian Staff, realising its error in not securing this important centre of roads, and dimly surmising the strength of the entrenchments which Osman was throwing up near to the base of their operations, determined to attack Plevna at once. Their task proved to be one of unexpected magnitude. Already the long curve of the outer Turkish lines spread along slopes which formed natural glacis, while the ground farther afield was so cut up by hollows as to render one combined assault very difficult. The strength, and even the existence, of some of Osman's works were unknown. Finally, the Russians are said to have had only 32,000 infantry men at hand with two brigades of cavalry.

Nevertheless, Generals Kruedener and Schahofski received orders to attack forthwith. They did so on July 31. The latter, with 12,000 men took two of the outer redoubts on the south side, but had to fall back before the deadly fire that poured on him from the inner works. Kruedener operated against the still stronger positions on the north; but, owing to difficulties that beset his advance, he was too late to make any diversion in favour of his colleague. In a word, the attack was ill planned and still worse combined. Five hours of desperate fighting yielded the assailants not a single substantial gain; their losses were stated officially to be 7336 killed and wounded; but this is certainly below the truth. Turkish irregulars followed the retreating columns at nightfall, and butchered the wounded, including all whom they found in a field-hospital.

This second reverse at Plevna was a disaster of the first magnitude. The prolongation of the Russian line beyond the Balkans had left their base and flanks too weak to stand against the terrible blows that Osman seemed about to deal from his point of vantage. Plevna was to their right flank what Biela was to their left. Troops could not be withdrawn from the latter point lest the Turks from Shumla and Rustchuk should break through and cut their way to the bridge at Sistova; and now Osman's force threatened that spinal cord of the Russian communications. If he struck how could the blow be warded off? For bad news poured in from all quarters. From Armenia came the tidings that Mukhtar Pasha, after a skilful retreat and concentration of force, had turned on the Russians and driven them back in utter confusion.

From beyond the Balkans Gurko sent news that Suleiman's army was working round by way of Adrianople, and threatened to pin him to the mountain chain. In fact, part of Gurko's corps sustained a serious reverse at Eski Zagra, and had to retreat in haste through the Khainkoi Pass; while its other sections made their way back to the Shipka Pass, leaving a rearguard to hold that important position (July 30-August 8). Thus, on all sides, proofs accumulated that the invaders had attempted far too much for their strength, and that their whole plan of campaign was more brilliant than sound. Possibly, had not the 14th corps been thrown away on the unhealthy Dobrudscha, enough men would have been at hand to save the situation. But now everything was at stake.

The whole of the month of August was a time of grave crisis for the Russians, and it is the opinion of the best military critics that the Turks, with a little more initiative and power of combination, might have thrown the Russians back on the Danube in utter disarray. From this extremity the invaders were saved by the lack among the Turks of the above-named gifts, on which, rather than on mere bravery, the issue of campaigns and the fate of nations now ultimately depend. True to their old renown, the Turks showed signal prowess on the field of battle, but they lacked the higher intellectual qualities that garner the full harvest of results.

Osman, either because he knew not that the Russians had used up their last reserves at Plevna, or because he mistrusted the manoeuvring powers of his men, allowed Kruedener quietly to draw off his shattered forces towards Sistova, and made only one rather half-hearted move against that all-important point. The new Turkish commander-in-chief, Mehemet Ali, gathered a formidable array in front of Shumla and drove the Russian army now led by the Cesarewich back on Biela, but failed to pierce their lines. Finally, Suleiman Pasha, in his pride at driving Gurko through the Khainkoi Pass, wasted time on the southern side, first by harrying the wretched Bulgarians, and then by hurling his brave troops repeatedly against the now almost impregnable position on the Shipka Pass.

It is believed that jealousy of the neighbouring Turkish generals kept Suleiman from adopting less wasteful and more effective tactics. If he had made merely a feint of attacking that post, and had hurried with his main body through the Slievno Pass on the east to the aid of Mehemet, or through the western defiles of the Balkans to the help of the brave Osman in his Plevna-Lovtcha positions, probably the gain of force to one or other of them might have led to really great results. As it was, these generals dealt heavy losses to the invaders, but failed to drive them back on the Danube.

Moreover, Russian reinforcements began to arrive by the middle of August, the Emperor having already, on July 22, called out the first ban of the militia and three divisions of the reserve of the line, in all some 224,000 men[145].

[Footnote 145: F.V. Greene, The Campaign in Bulgaria, p. 225.]

The bulk of these men did not arrive until September; and meanwhile the strain was terrible. The war correspondence of Mr. Archibald Forbes reveals the state of nervous anxiety in which Alexander II. was plunged at this time. Forbes had been a witness of the savage tenacity of the Turkish attack and the Russian defence on the hills commanding the Shipka Pass. Finally, he had shared in the joy of the hard-pressed defenders at the timely advent of a rifle battalion hastily sent up on Cossack ponies, and the decisive charge of General Radetzky at the head of two companies of reserves at a Turkish breastwork in the very crisis of the fight (Aug. 24). Then, after riding post-haste northwards to the Russian headquarters at Gornisstuden, he was at once taken to the Czar's tent, and noted the look of eager suspense on his face until he heard the reassuring news that Radetzky kept his seat firm on the pass.

The worst was now over. The Russian Guards, 50,000 strong, were near at hand, along with the other reinforcements above named. The urgency of the crisis also led the Grand Duke Nicholas to waive his claim that the Roumanian troops should be placed under his immediate command. Accordingly, early in August, Prince Charles led some 35,000 Roumanians across the Danube, and was charged with the command of all the troops around Plevna[146]. The hopes of the invaders were raised by Skobeleff's capture, on September 3, of Lovtcha, a place half-way between Plevna and the Balkans, which had ensured Osman's communications with Suleiman Pasha. The Turkish losses at Lovtcha are estimated at nearly 15,000 men[147].

[Footnote 146: Reminiscences of the King of Roumania, p. 275.]

[Footnote 147: F.V. Greene, op. cit. p. 232.]

This success having facilitated the attack on Plevna from the south, a general assault was ordered for September 11. In the meantime Osman also had received large reinforcements from Sofia, and had greatly strengthened his defences. So skilfully had outworks been thrown up on the north-east of Plevna that what looked like an unimportant trench was found to be a new and formidable redoubt, which foiled the utmost efforts of the 3rd Roumanian division to struggle up the steep slopes on that side. To their 4th division and to a Russian brigade fell an equally hard task, that of advancing from the east against the two Grivitza redoubts which had defied all assaults. The Turks showed their usual constancy, despite the heavy and prolonged bombardment which preluded the attack here and all along the lines. But the weight and vigour of the onset told by degrees; and the Russian and Roumanian supports finally carried by storm the more southerly of the two redoubts. The Turks made desperate efforts to retrieve this loss. From the northern redoubt and the rear entrenchments somewhat to the south there came a galling fire which decimated the victors; for a time the Turks succeeded in recovering the work, but at nightfall the advance of other Russian and Roumanian troops ousted the Moslems. Thenceforth the redoubt was held by the allies.

Meanwhile, to the south of the village of Grivitza the 4th and 9th Russian Corps had advanced in dense masses against the cluster of redoubts that crowned the heights south-east of Plevna; but their utmost efforts were futile; under the fearful fire of the Turks the most solid lines melted away, and the corps fell back at nightfall, with the loss of 110 officers and 5200 men.

Only on the south and south-west did the assailants seriously imperil Osman's defence at a vital point; and here again Fortune bestowed her favours on a man who knew how to wrest the utmost from her, Michael Dimitrievitch Skobeleff. Few men or women could look on his stalwart figure, frank, bold features, and keen, kindling eyes without a thrill of admiration. Tales were told by the camp-fires of the daring of his early exploits in Central Asia; how, after the capture of Khiva in 1874, he dressed himself in Turkoman garb, and alone explored the route from that city to Igdy, as well as the old bed of the River Oxus; or again how, at the capture of Khokand in the following year, his skill and daring led to the overthrow of a superior force and the seizure of fifty-eight guns. Thus, at thirty-two years of age he was the darling of the troops; for his prowess in the field was not more marked than his care and foresight in the camp. While other generals took little heed of their men, he saw to their comforts and cheered them by his jokes. They felt that he was the embodiment of the patriotism, love of romantic exploit, and soaring ambition of the Great Russians.

They were right. Already, as will appear in a later chapter, he was dreaming of the conquest of India; and, like Napoleon, he could not only see visions but also master details, from the principles of strategy to the routine of camp life, which made those visions realisable. If ambition spurred him on towards Delhi, hatred of things Teutonic pointed him to Berlin. Ill would it have fared with the peace of the world had this champion of the Slavonic race lived out his life. But his fiery nature wore out its tenement, the baser passions, so it is said, contributing to hasten the end of one who lived his true life only amidst the smoke of battle. In war he was sublime. Having recently came from Central Asia, he was at first unattached to any corps, and roved about in search of the fiercest fighting. His insight and skill had warded off a deadly flank attack on Schahofski's shattered corps at Plevna on July 30, and his prowess had contributed largely to the capture of Lovtcha on September 3. War correspondents, who knew their craft, turned to follow Skobeleff, wherever official reports might otherwise direct them; and the lust of fighting laid hold of the grey columns when they saw the "white general" approach.