redoubt. The artillery duel between the Turks and Krüdener lasted
until after two p.m. Then the Russian, infantry were sent forward to
the attack. The brave Penza regiment led the way. Its first battalion
carried the first line of trenches, a thousand yards north-east of
the redoubt; the second line was carried by the second battalion, and
the two battalions drove the Turks at the bayonet point across the
intervening ravine, when three companies made a rush for the redoubt
and actually reached the parapet, where, however, all perished. In a
few minutes, so fierce was the Turkish fire, the three Penza battalions
lost thirty officers and 1,006 men--half their officers and more than
one-third of the men. Officers of the two regiments in reserve, looking
through their telescopes, swore that they saw the blood of the Penzas
flowing in streams down the outer face of the parapet of the Turkish
redoubt. The Kosloff regiment followed the Penzas up to the second
line, and a few men of it did reach the redoubt, but only to meet their
death. Then the supports, consisting of the 17th and 18th regiments,
made their effort, only to fail; the bitter and steadfast rifle from
the redoubt struck them down by ranks. The left column, the Tamboff and
Galitz regiments, tried to storm the southern face of the redoubt, but
only filled with their dead bodies the outlying trenches. At sundown
the stubborn Krüdener gave orders for a final general assault. It was
made with such desperation that a general officer was killed within a
few paces of the redoubt; but the attack utterly failed with terrible
slaughter. Then Krüdener gave the order to retire; but so maddened were
the troops that the fighting lasted all night, and the withdrawal was
not completed till after daybreak of the 31st. In fine, the attack of
the right wing had been an utter and bloody failure.
On the left wing, about ten a.m., Schahofskoy sent twenty-eight guns
up on to the crest of the Radischevo ridge, which promptly opened fire
on the Turkish positions of the “middle group,” whence a fire was as
promptly returned. The infantry moved forward into the valley in rear
and into the glades about the village of Radischevo, about which were
falling many Turkish shells which had flown over the ridge crowned by
the Russian artillery. It was strange to witness the peasant villagers
standing in scared groups in front of their cottages, shuddering as
the shells crashed into the place, while the children were playing
about the dust heaps without any sense of their danger. A couple of
correspondents, leaving their horses in the village, went up to the
storm-swept crest where the Russian batteries were in action, and lay
down between two guns to watch the scene. From their point of vantage
they looked right down into the Turkish positions. Several guns in an
earthwork (Redoubt No. 1) about a hamlet or farmhouse, which seemed
the most advanced of the Turkish works on the central elevation, were
vigorously replying to the Russian fire. On its right were three more
redoubts reaching backward to the edge of the valley in which the roofs
and spires of Plevna sparkled in the sunshine from out the cincture of
verdure. The place seemed so near that a short ride might bring one
there to a sorely needed breakfast; but thousands of men were to die
and many months were to elapse before Plevna should be accessible to
others than Turks. As the watchers lay by the guns men were falling
fast around them; for the elevated position was greatly exposed and the
Turkish practice was most uncomfortably true.
Two o’clock came. Schahofskoy rode up the slope from the village to
see for himself from the crest how things were going. As he reached
the sky line the Turks marked the mounted group, and a volley of
shell-fire was directed upon it. Schahofskoy promptly rolled out of
the saddle and crept forward to where the two correspondents were
squatting. His eyes were blazing and his face was flushed, as he swore
most vigorously in the colloquial Russian of the common soldier. He
looked at his watch; it was a few minutes past two. Krüdener seemed,
after all these long hours, to be making no headway. Schahofskoy in
his impatience threw his orders to the wind and determined to act
independently. He turned to his Chief of Staff and shouted, “Bring
up the 125th and 126th regiments at once! Quick!” These were his own
two regiments which had accompanied him from the foot of the Balkans.
General Tchekoff, the brigade commander, came up the slope at a canter
and told the Prince the two regiments were following close. They
came up with swift swinging stride and deployed just before reaching
the crest, breaking to pass through the intervals between the guns.
The General had risen, and was standing against a tree saluting his
soldiers as they streamed past him. His guns recommenced firing
as soon as the infantrymen were descending the further slope, and
continued their fire while the regiments were crossing the intervening
hollow to the assault of the Turkish positions. The Turkish shells
crashed through the ranks as the regiments pressed forward; men were
already down in numbers, but the long, undulating line pushed through
the undergrowth of the descent and then tramped steadily over the
stubble-fields below. No skirmishing line was thrown out in advance.
The fighting line retained its formation for a time till, what with
eagerness and what with men falling, it broke into a ragged spray of
humanity and surged on swiftly, but with no close cohesion. It was a
rush of vehement fighting-men on which the spectators looked down with
eyes intent--a helter-skelter of men impelled by a burning ardour to
get forward and come to close quarters with the enemy calmly firing
upon them from behind the shelter of his earthworks. The Turkish
position was neared; and now men held their breath. The crackle of
the musketry fire rose in a sharp continuous peal. The clamour of
the cheering of the fighting-men came back on the wind, making the
blood tingle with excitement. The wounded were beginning to withdraw,
limping and groaning; the dead and the more severely wounded lay where
they fell among the stubbles and amidst the maize. The living wave
of fighting-men was pouring over them ever on and on. Suddenly the
disconnected men were drawing together, the officers signalling for
the concentration by the waving of their swords. Then there followed
a headlong rush, led by a brave colonel. The Turks in the shelter
trench held their ground, firing steadily and with terrible effect into
the advancing assailants. The colonel staggered a few paces and then
fell--he was a dead man.
His men, bayonets at the charge, rushed to avenge their gallant dead
leader. They were over the shelter trench and over the parapet, and
then down in among the Turks like an avalanche. The first redoubt was
thus taken; but the Turks had got away ten guns; leaving only two in
Russian hands. The captured redoubt was No. 1, which had fallen to
the 126th regiment, the right regiment of Schahofskoy’s first line.
His left regiment, the 125th, was advancing simultaneously on Redoubt
No. 8, about midway between No. 1 and Plevna, but No. 8 was much the
stronger, an isolated mamelon with batteries on the rearward slope.
Schahofskoy sent forward to No. 1 two batteries and two battalions, and
a third battalion to strengthen his left flank, and then he ordered
both his front line regiments to converge on redoubt No. 8 and to
carry it, no matter at what cost. One could see through the glass
Turkish officers on horseback standing behind its parapet and watching
the oncoming Russian forces. Presently two rode away at a gallop and
immediately returned with a swarm of men on foot, who clapped tackle on
the guns in the redoubt and withdrew them all before the Russians took
it. The capture at the last was curiously sudden. All of a moment along
the lip of the Turkish parapet there was a final spurt of white smoke,
through which were visible dimly swarms of dark-coated men scrambling
over the ditch and up the outer slope of the work. On the crest of the
parapet itself there was a short but sharp struggle. Then through the
telescope was seen a crowd of men in lighter blue in apparent full
flight across the great stretch of vineyard behind the redoubt.
The Russians, then, at about half-past five of this bloody afternoon,
had possessed themselves of two of the Turkish redoubts, but their
tenure was very precarious. The Turks had not fled far from the
second redoubt, about the northern and western faces of which they
hung obstinately, while their cannon from further rearward dropped
shell after shell into it with extraordinary precision. Schahofskoy
sent forward eight guns to an intermediate knoll, to cover the troops
in the redoubt and cope with the Turkish artillery fire which was
punishing them so severely; but about six o’clock the Turks pressed
forward a strong body of infantry to its recapture. The defence was
stubborn, but the Moslems were not to be denied; and in spite of the
stubborn Russian resistance, they reoccupied the redoubt half an
hour later. In the course of the original advance on it, part of the
troops of Schahofskoy’s left had penetrated by a ravine up to near
the south-eastern verge of Plevna. From the first, this body was very
hard pressed by fresh Turkish reserves issuing from the town. The
Russians, bent on entering the place, charged again and again till
they could charge no more for sheer fatigue; and then the stubborn,
gallant fellows stood leaderless--for nearly all the officers were
down--sternly waiting death there for want of leaders to march them
back. To their help Schahofskoy sent in succession the two battalions
which were his last reserve; but all that these could do was to
maintain a front with cruel losses, until the darkness would permit of
a retirement to the Radischevo ridge. The ammunition had failed, for
the carts had been left far in the rear; and all hope died out of the
most sanguine as the sun sank in lurid glory behind the blood-stained
and smoke-mantled field.
Then the Turks struck without stint. They had the upper hand now, and
were clearly determined to show that they knew how to make the most of
it. Through the dusk they advanced in swarms into their original first
positions, and recaptured their two guns which the Russians had taken
in their first assault, but which they had found no opportunity to
withdraw. Turkish shells now again began to whistle and yell over the
Radischevo ridge, and to crash into the village behind, by this time
crammed with wounded men. The streams of wounded were incessant. The
badly-wounded lay where they fell, and were butchered ruthlessly by the
Turkish irregulars, who swarmed over the battle-field and slaughtered
indiscriminately. The moon rose on their bloodthirsty devilry; and
in the hot, still night-air one could hear--and shuddered in the
hearing--the shrieks of pain, the futile entreaties for mercy, and the
yells of cruel, fanatical triumph.
[Illustration: “THEY GATHERED TO THE SOUND.”]
The Russian defeat was complete. The remains of the army came sullenly
back, companies that had gone down hundreds strong returning by tens
and twenties. For three hours there had been a steady current of
wounded men up from out of the battle to the reverse slope of the
Radischevo ridge, to which Schahofskoy still held on grimly. All
round, the air was heavy with the moaning of the wounded who had cast
themselves down by the fountain at the foot of the slope, craving
with a pitiful longing for a few drops of the scanty water. In this
awful hour Schahofskoy’s attitude was admirable: now that the day
was lost beyond remedy, he was cool and collected. To protect his
wounded, and rally what remained of his force, he was determined to
hold the ridge to the last extremity. He ordered his bugle to sound
the “Assembly.” They gathered to the sound, singly and by twos and
threes, many bleeding from flesh-wounds, yet willing still to fight
on. But it appeared scarcely a company that came together; it seemed
as if the rest of the army was quite dispersed. Schahofrkoy was loth
to fall back, for he still hoped that belated troops would come back
out of the valley of the shadow of death down below him; but he was
disappointed. Meanwhile, as the ambulance work was going on apace, and
the wounded withdrawn into the comparative safety of the village in the
valley behind, the Turks continued to pour on the ridge a heavy fire
of shells and bullets. At length, near midnight, Schahofskoy and his
staff quitted the front, now protected, after a fashion, by a cordon
of cavalry. As the forlorn _cortège_ rode slowly away in the
moonlight, an aide-de-camp remarked in an undertone to his neighbour:
“We are following a general who has lost his army going in search of
an army which has lost its general, who now, to make the day’s loss
complete, has lost his way.” It was a miserable business.
But it was in a measure retrieved by the conduct of Skobeleff. His
orders were to prevent any reinforcement from Loftcha from entering
Plevna, and in general to cover the extreme left flank of Schahofskoy.
For this wide range of duty he had at his disposal one infantry
battalion, twelve squadrons of Caucasian Cossacks, and twelve 4-pounder
horse-guns. His first undertaking was to make a reconnaissance on
Plevna from the south-west, till he looked down on the place from a
height within three hundred yards of it. When Schahofskoy began his
cannonade on the redoubts, Skobeleff opened fire on the town, and
drew upon himself a large body of Osman’s forces. When attacked in
strength he, of course, had to withdraw to his main force at Krishin;
but he discovered that, from a hill two miles south of Plevna the Turks
could enfilade Schahofskoy’s line, and take his advance in reverse.
To hinder the enemy from occupying this point he resolved to attack
energetically; and he was able, by dint of skill and dexterity, to keep
up an active fight throughout the day and on until after nightfall, and
also to remove all his wounded. After dark, he made good his retreat to
Krishin, and re-assembled there what remained of his little command. He
had not spared it, for fifty per cent. was _hors de combat_. But
he had gained his object in keeping the Turks away from the Green Hill,
from which, had they occupied it, they would have cut Schahofskoy’s
force to pieces.
[Illustration: ENVIRONS OF PLEVNA.
_a_, Plevna; _b_, Plevna Redoubt; _c_,
Grivitza Village; _d_, Grivitza Redoubt; _e_,
Radischevo Ridge; _f_, Balkan Mountains in distance.]
The Russian losses were 169 officers and 7,136 men, out of a total
of 30,000 engaged. Of this number, 2,400 were killed and left on the
field. One of Schahofskoy’s regiments (the 126th) had 725 killed and
over 1,200 wounded--a total loss of about 75 per cent. of its strength.
Over their respective responsibility, Krüdener and Schahofskoy
quarrelled bitterly. Schahofskoy complained that Krüdener had not
supported him. Krüdener retorted that Schahofskoy had disobeyed his
orders in assaulting without permission. But the real responsibility
for the defeat rested on the shoulders of the Grand Duke Nicolas, who
had given peremptory orders from a distance to attack a position of
which he knew nothing, and in the teeth of a remonstrance on the part
of a commanding-officer who had carefully studied the subject.
[Illustration: _THE SHANGANI PATROL_
_BY E. F. KNIGHT_]
“They were men of men, and their fathers were men before them,”
were the words of old Umjan, the chief induna of the Imbezu
Impi--Lobengula’s Royal Regiment--as he described the gallant stand
of that handful of men under Major Allan Wilson which was cut to
pieces by the Matabele, hard by the Shangani river, on December 4th,
1893. Umjan, a full-blooded Zulu warrior, who, as a stripling, had
taken part in the conquest of Matabeleland with Moselekatse’s raiding
horde, led the force that slaughtered Major Wilson’s party, and the
terms of keen admiration which he employed when speaking of those
brave men but represented the feeling of his whole people. That day’s
fight produced a deep impression throughout the country. Till then
the Matabele were inclined to despise the white men, and considered
them weak and timorous. True, the Matabele had been vanquished; but
they argued that they had not been routed in fair fight, but by the
aid of witchcraft--by the deadly fire of those invincible Maxims,
which spirits had manufactured for the white men; they boasted that
without Maxims the white men would never have had the heart to face the
valorous _amajakas_ of Lobengula. But they were undeceived by the
brave doings of December 4th, which cannot rightly be called a day of
disaster--valuable though were the lives we lost--when it is remembered
how glorious was that gallant stand, how far-reaching were its results.
That engagement brought the war to a sudden conclusion, and obviated
further bloodshed. It inspired the Matabele with a profound respect
and regard for their conquerors, which our previous victories alone
would not have given them. Without that sacrifice it would have been
long before we had brought about a true peace. Our vanquished foes
would have regarded any clemency on our part as a sign of cowardice;
the young _amajakas_ would have bragged at their periodic
beer-drinkings, and organised risings against the white men. But
having suffered so severely from that stubborn resistance to the death
of a handful of white men unprovided with Maxims, they realised the
hopelessness of again trying conclusions with the Chartered Company’s
forces; they were terrified at their own victory, and, as I myself
experienced, it was possible, immediately after the Shangani fight,
for a white man to travel alone and unarmed with safety throughout
the greater portion of Matabeleland. The death of Wilson and his men
brought a complete peace to the land, so they did not fall in vain. The
story of the Shangani will be told in many a kraal; and the prestige
these Britons won for their countrymen will go far to check the ardour
of turbulent tribes and to preserve the peace of Africa.
Not one man of Wilson’s party survived to tell the tale of that
hopeless but fierce stand of the thirty-four against thousands; but
various native rumours reached us. I was at Inyati when Dawson,
some three months after the fight, returned from his mission to the
Shangani: he gave me the full details he had gathered from Matabele
who had taken part in the fight; and later on old Umjan himself came
in, and told us all that had taken place, extolling the bravery of
the white men with a simple but most impressive eloquence. It is his
narrative I purpose to repeat here.
It will be well first to recall the events that led up to the despatch
of Wilson’s patrol. Lobengula’s impis had been broken in two decisive
battles; Buluwayo had been occupied by the Company’s troops; a
considerable proportion of the disheartened Matabele, having been
offered by Dr. Jameson easy terms of peace, and, realising that they
would be treated with generosity, were quite ready to “come in,” but
dared not so long as the King was still holding out with a large force
of his followers. It was therefore essential that the King should be
captured or be induced to submit, in order to effect the pacification
of the country and avoid further bloodshed. Lobengula, in reply to
Dr. Jameson’s messages inviting him to surrender and guaranteeing
his safety, had at first promised to “come in,” but had subsequently
either altered his intention, or had been constrained by his warlike
following. Spies brought in information that he was retreating to the
north with a considerable force consisting of the remnants of his
broken impis, with the object either of organising a stand further on,
or of crossing the Zambesi to establish another military despotism
beyond the great river.
Dr. Jameson accordingly sent a force, under Major P. W. Forbes, in
pursuit of the King; but this column failed to come up with the
fugitive, for, having exhausted its supplies, it was compelled to
retire on Inyati, a mission station forty miles to the north-east of
Buluwayo. It was afterwards ascertained that Lobengula was only three
miles away when his pursuers turned back.
Reinforcements with food and ammunition were then sent to Shiloh,
another mission station between Buluwayo and Inyati, and from this
place Major Forbes set out afresh with 300 men, on November 25th,
to overtake the King. There had been very heavy rains, and the
roadless wilderness through which they had to go was little better
than a morass, almost impassable for waggons. They had made but
little progress by November 29th, and Major Forbes, finding that his
horses and oxen were becoming exhausted and realising that the King
would never be caught unless the column travelled faster, sent all
his waggons and a considerable portion of his force back to Inyati,
only retaining 160 men, mounted on the best of the horses, of whom
sixty were troopers of the Bechuanaland Border Police, the remainder
volunteers of the Salisbury, Victoria, and Tuli columns. He took with
him two Maxims, and horses carrying ten days’ rations for each man.
This little force then pushed on rapidly, despite the heavy rains and
the fever that prevails at that season in the lowlands. They were on
a hot scent, and knew that the King could not be far ahead of them.
Each day they came to his recently abandoned camps, and found frequent
signs of his retreat. They thrust their way through the thick bush and
across the swamps, following the spoor of the King’s three waggons,
occasionally capturing stragglers from his force or some, of his
cattle. The Matabele hovered round, watching them all the while; but no
attack was made upon them, though the scouts had narrow escapes.
At last, on the 3rd of December, they came to a valley near the banks
of the Shangani and found a _scherm_ (enclosure of bushes), which
had evidently been vacated but a very short time before, for the fires
were still burning within it. A chiefs son, who was captured at this
place, confessed that the King had slept there on the previous night,
and was not far off. This was good news, and all hoped that they would
be rewarded for the privations they had undergone by the speedy capture
of Lobengula. But it was now five o’clock in the evening, and darkness
would soon make it impossible for the column to proceed; so Major
Forbes, having selected a strong position in which to laagar for the
night, decided to send Major Allan Wilson with a party of about twenty
men, to reconnoitre. Among those who volunteered to go on this patrol
were several officers and some of the leading settlers in Mashonaland:
it consisted, indeed, of the very pick of frontier manhood. Major
Wilson’s instructions were to follow the King’s spoor and ascertain
his whereabouts, and to return to the laagar before dark. It was Major
Forbes’s intention to remain where he was until dawn, and then to
make a final dash for the King. Supplies were now running short, and
unless Lobengula was captured on the morrow the chase would have to be
abandoned, and the column would have to return to Inyati. Shortly after
the patrol had set out, a native prisoner gave Major Forbes reliable
information to the effect that an impi of about 3,000 Matabele was then
hemming in his force, so extra precautions were taken to guard the
laagar against surprise during the night, which was an exceedingly dark
one.
Early in the night, two of Major Wilson’s party rode in with a message
for the commanding officer. They reported that the patrol had crossed
the Shangani, and that Major Wilson, having ascertained that the King,
accompanied by but few of his followers, was only a short distance
ahead of him, had thought it best not to return that night, but would
bivouac where he was, close on the King’s heels.
Before midnight three more men came in from Major Wilson. They
corroborated the report that the King had sent his impi to surround
the column and prevent its crossing the river. They said that the
patrol had found a native to guide them, had followed the King’s
spoor for some distance, and passed several _scherms_ full of
women, children, and cattle. Then they fell in with some of the King’s
men, who offered no resistance, possibly imagining that this was the
advance guard of the whole column, and that the dreaded Maxims were
close behind. An officer, who was acting as interpreter, shouted to
the natives that the white men would not injure them, but wanted to
talk to the King. Just as it was getting dark, they approached some
_scherms_, in one of which, the guide told them, was the King
himself. A number of armed Matabele came out with threatening action
ready to protect the waggons, and were surrounding the patrol. A heavy
rain-storm now rendered the obscurity intense, so Major Wilson was
compelled to retire, and took up his position for the night in the bush
half a mile away.
[Illustration:
MR. RILEY. UMJAN. MR. DAWSON.
(The waggon is the one in which Messrs Dawson and Riley
returned from the Shangani with the King’s wives as
described.)]
Major Forbes, hemmed in as he was by the enemy’s impi, would have been
guilty of extreme rashness had he ventured to take his whole force and
his Maxims across a difficult river and through dense bush on a dark
night, when the Matabele could have easily rushed the column with their
assegais and annihilated it; but he at once despatched Captain Borrow
to Major Wilson with a reinforcement of twenty men, while he explained
in a letter that he would cross the river at daylight with the column
to join him.