[Footnote 102: Mr. Baring, a secretary of the British Legation at

Constantinople, after a careful examination of the evidence, gave the

number of Bulgarians slain as "not fewer than 12,000"; he opined that

163 Mussulmans were perhaps killed early in May. He admitted the Batak

horrors. Achmet Agha, their chief perpetrator, was at first condemned to

death by a Turkish commission of inquiry, but he was finally pardoned.

Shefket Pasha, whose punishment was also promised, was afterwards

promoted to a high command. Parl. Papers, Turkey, No. 2 (1877), pp.

248-249; _ibid_. No. 15 (1877), No. 77, p. 58. Mr. Layard, successor to

Sir Henry Elliott at Constantinople, afterwards sought to reduce the

numbers slain to 3500. Turkey, No. 26 (1877), p. 54.]

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 Siéyès 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 Saïd 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. Élie 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: Élie 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: Débidour, _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: Élie 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

_débuter_ 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 Cæsar, 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 attaché

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 _têtes 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.

[Illustration: MAP OF BULGARIA.]

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 attaché 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 _tête 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 Krüdener, 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 attaché 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 Krüdener 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 Krüdener 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 Krüdener 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. Krüdener 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 Krüdener 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.

On September 11 Prince Imeritinski and Skobeleff (the order should be

inverted) commanded the extreme left of the Russian line, attacking

Plevna from the south. Having four regiments of the line and four

battalions of sharpshooters--about 12,000 men in all--he ranged them at

the foot of the hill, whose summit was crowned by an all-important

redoubt-the "Kavanlik." There were four others that flanked the

approach. When the Russian guns had thoroughly cleared the way for an

assault, he ordered the bands to play and the two leading regiments to

charge up the slope. Keeping his hand firmly on the pulse of the battle,

he saw them begin to waver under the deadly fire of the Turks; at once

he sent up a rival regiment; the new mass carried on the charge until it

too threatened to die away. The fourth regiment struggled up into that

wreath of death, and with the like result.

[Illustration: Plan of Plevna.]

Then Skobeleff called on his sharpshooters to drive home the onset.

Riding on horseback before the invigorating lines, he swept on the

stragglers and waverers until all of them came under the full blast of

the Turkish flames vomited from the redoubt. There his sword fell,

shivered in his hand, and his horse rolled over at the very verge of the

fosse. Fierce as ever, the leader sprang to his feet, waved the stump in

air, and uttered a shout which put fresh heart into his men. With him

they swarmed into the fosse, up the bank, and fell on the defenders. The

bayonet did the rest, taking deadly revenge for the murderous volleys.

But Osman's engineers had provided against such an event. The redoubt

was dominated from the left and could be swept by cross fire from the

rear and right. On the morrow the Turks drew in large forces from the

north side and pressed the victors hard. In vain did Skobeleff send

urgent messages for reinforcements to make good the gaps in his ranks.

None were sent, or indeed could be sent. Five times his men beat off the

foe. The sixth charge hurled them first from the Kavanlik redoubt, and

thereafter from the flanking works and trenches out on to that fatal

slope. A war correspondent saw Skobeleff after this heart-breaking loss,

"his face black with powder and smoke, his eyes haggard and bloodshot,

and his voice quite gone. I never before saw such a picture of

battle[148]."

[Footnote 148: _War Correspondence of the "Daily News,"_ pp. 479-483.

For another character-sketch of Skobeleff see the _Fortnightly Review_

of Oct. 1882, by W.K. Rose.]

Thus all the efforts of the Russians and Roumanians had failed to wrest

more than a single redoubt from the Moslems; and at that point they were

unable to make any advance against the inner works. The fighting of

September 11-12 is believed to have cost the allies 18,000 men killed

and wounded out of the 75,000 infantrymen engaged. The mistakes of July

31 had been again repeated. The number of assailants was too small for

an attack on so great an extent of fortified positions defended with

quick-firing rifles. Had the Russians, while making feints at other

points to hold the Turks there, concentrated their efforts either on the

two Grivitza redoubts, or on those about the Kavanlik work, they would

almost certainly have succeeded. As it was, they hurled troops in close

order against lines, the strength of which was not well known; and none

of their commanders but Skobeleff employed tactics that made the most of

their forces[149]. The depression at the Russian headquarters was now

extreme[150]. On September 13 the Emperor held a council of war at which

the Prince of Roumania, the Grand Duke Nicholas, General Milutin

(Minister of War), and three other generals were present. The Grand Duke

declared that the only prudent course was to retire to the Danube,

construct a _tête de pont_ guarding the southern end of their bridge

and, after receiving reinforcements, again begin the conquest of

Bulgaria. General Milutin, however, demurred to this, seeing that

Osman's army was not mobile enough to press them hard; he therefore

proposed to await the reinforcements in the positions around Plevna. The

Grand Duke thereupon testily exclaimed that Milutin had better be placed

in command, to which the Emperor replied: "No; you shall retain the

command; but the plan suggested by the Minister of War shall be carried

out[151]."

[Footnote 149: For an account of the battle, see Greene, _op. cit._ pt.

ii. chap. v.]

[Footnote 150: Gen. von. Lignitz, _Aus drei Kriegen_, p. 167.]

[Footnote 151: Col. F.A. Wellesley, _op. cit._ p. 281.]

The Emperor's decision saved the situation. The Turks made no combined

effort to advance towards Plevna in force; and Osman felt too little

trust in the new levies that reached him from Sofia to move into the

open and attack Sistova. Indeed, Turkish strategy over the whole field

of war is open to grave censure. On their side there was a manifest lack

of combination. Mehemet Ali pounded away for a month at the army of the

Czarewitch on the River Lom, and then drew back his forces (September

24). He allowed Suleiman Pasha to fling his troops in vain against the

natural stronghold of the Russians at the Shipka Pass, and had made no

dispositions for succouring Lovtcha. Obviously he should have

concentrated the Turkish forces so as to deal a timely and decisive blow

either on the Lom or on the Sofia-Plevna road. When he proved his

incapacity both as commander-in-chief and as commander of his own force,

Turkish jealousy against the _quondam_ German flared forth; and early in

October he was replaced by Suleiman. The change was greatly for the

worse. Suleiman's pride and obstinacy closed the door against larger

ideas, and it has been confidently stated that at the end of the

campaign he was bribed by the Russians to betray his cause. However that

may be, it is certain that the Turkish generals continued to fight, each

for his own hand, and thus lost the campaign.

It was now clear that Osman must be starved out from the position which

the skill of his engineers and the steadiness of his riflemen had so

speedily transformed into an impregnable stronghold. Todleben, the

Russian engineer, who had strengthened the outworks of Sevastopol, had

been called up to oppose trench to trench, redoubt to redoubt. Yet so

extensive were the Turkish works, and so active was Shevket Pasha's

force at Sofia in sending help and provisions, that not until October 24

was the line of investment completed, and by an army which now numbered

fully 120,000 men. By December 10 Osman came to the end of his resources

and strove to break out on the west over the River Wid towards Sofia.

Masking the movement with great skill, he inflicted heavy losses on the

besiegers. Slowly, however, they closed around him, and a last scene of

slaughter ended in the surrender of the 43,000 half-starved survivors,

with the 77 guns that had wrought such havoc among the invaders. Osman's

defence is open to criticism at some points, but it had cost Russia more

than 50,000 lives, and paralysed her efforts in Europe during

five months.

The operations around Plevna are among the most instructive in modern

warfare, as illustrating the immense power that quick-firing rifles

confer upon the defence. Given a nucleus of well-trained troops, with

skilled engineers, any position of ordinary strength can quickly be

turned into a stronghold that will foil the efforts of a far greater

number of assailants. Experience at Plevna showed that four or five

times as many men were needed to attack redoubts and trenches as in the

days of muzzle-loading muskets. It also proved that infantry fire is far

more deadly in such cases than the best served artillery. And yet a

large part of Osman's troops--perhaps the majority after August--were

not regulars. Doubtless that explains why (with the exception of an

obstinate but unskilful effort to break out on August 31) he did not

attack the Russians in the open after his great victories of July 31 and

September 11-12. On both occasions the Russians were so badly shaken

that, in the opinion of competent judges, they could easily have been

driven in on Nicopolis or Sistova, in which case the bridges at those

places might have been seized. But Osman did not do so, doubtless

because he knew that his force, weak in cavalry and unused to

manoeuvring, would be at a disadvantage in the open. Todleben, however,

was informed on good authority that, when the Turkish commander heard of

the likelihood of the investment of Plevna, he begged the Porte to allow

him to retire; but the assurance of Shevket Pasha, the commander of the

Turkish force at Sofia, that he could keep open communications between

that place and Plevna, decided the authorities at Constantinople to

order the continuance of defensive tactics[152].

[Footnote 152: A. Forbes, _Czar and Sultan_, p. 291. On the other hand,

W.V. Herbert (_op. cit._ p. 456) states that it was Osman's wish to

retire to Orkanye, on the road to Sofia, and that this was forbidden.

For remarks on this see Greene, _op. cit._ chap. viii.]

Whatever may have been the cause of this decision it ruined the Turkish

campaign. Adherence to the defensive spells defeat now, as it has always

done. Defeat comes more slowly now that quick-firing rifles quadruple

the power of the defence; but all the same it must come if the assailant

has enough men to throw on that point and then at other points. Or, to

use technical terms, while modern inventions alter tactics, that is, the

dispositions of troops on the field of battle--a fact which the Russians

seemed to ignore at Plevna--they do not change the fundamental

principles of strategy. These are practically immutable, and they doom

to failure the side that, at the critical points, persists in standing

on the defensive. A study of the events around Plevna shows clearly what

a brave but ill-trained army can do and what it cannot do under modern

conditions.

From the point of view of strategy--that is, the conduct of the great

operations of a campaign--Osman's defence of Plevna yields lessons of

equal interest. It affords the most brilliant example in modern warfare

of the power of a force strongly intrenched in a favourable position to

"contain," that is, to hold or hold back, a greater force of the enemy.

Other examples are the Austrian defence of Mantua in 1796-97, which

hindered the young Bonaparte's invasion of the Hapsburg States;

Bazaine's defence of Metz in 1870; and Sir George White's defence of

Ladysmith against the Boers. We have no space in which to compare these

cases, in which the conditions varied so greatly. Suffice it to say that

Mantua and Plevna were the most effective instances, largely because

those strongholds lay near the most natural and easy line of advance for

the invaders. Metz and Ladysmith possessed fewer advantages in this

respect; and, considering the strength of the fortress and the size and

quality of his army, Bazaine's conduct at Metz must rank as the weakest

on record; for his 180,000 troops "contained" scarcely more than their

own numbers of Germans.

On the other hand, Osman's force brought three times its number of

Russians to a halt for five months before hastily constructed lines. In

the opinion of many authorities the Russians did wrong in making the

whole campaign depend on Plevna. When it was clear that Osman would

cling to the defensive, they might with safety have secretly detached

part of the besieging force to help the army of the Czarewitch to drive

back the Turks on Shumla. This would have involved no great risk; for

the Russians occupied the inner lines of what was, roughly speaking, a

triangle, resting on the Shipka Pass, the River Lom, and Plevna as its

extreme points. Having the advantage of the inner position, they could

quickly have moved part of their force at Plevna, battered in the

Turkish defence on the Lom, and probably captured the Slievno passes. In

that case they would have cleared a new line of advance to

Constantinople farther to the east, and made the possession of Plevna of

little worth. Its value always lay in its nearness to their main line of

advance, but they were not tied to that line. It is safe to say that, if

Moltke had directed their operations, he would have devised some better

plan than that of hammering away at the redoubts of Plevna.

In fact, the Russians made three great blunders: first, in neglecting to

occupy Plevna betimes; second, in underrating Osman's powers of defence;

third, in concentrating all their might on what was a very strong, but

not an essential, point of the campaign.

The closing scenes of the war are of little interest except in the

domain of diplomacy. Servia having declared war against Turkey

immediately after the fall of Plevna, the Turks were now hopelessly

outnumbered. Gurko forced his way over one of the western passes of the

Balkans, seized Sofia (January 4, 1878), and advancing quickly towards

Philippopolis, utterly routed Suleiman's main force near that town

(January 17). The Turkish commander-in-chief thus paid for his mistake

in seeking to defend a mountain chain with several passes by

distributing his army among those passes. Experience has proved that

this invites disaster at the hands of an enterprising foe, and that the

true policy is to keep light troops or scouts at all points, and the

main forces at a chief central pass and at a convenient place in the

rear, whence the invaders may be readily assailed before they complete

the crossing. As it was, Suleiman saw his main force, still nearly

50,000 strong, scatter over the Rhodope mountains; many of them reached

the Aegean Sea at Enos, whence they were conveyed by ship to the

Dardanelles. He himself was tried by court-martial and imprisoned for

fifteen years[153].

[Footnote 153: Sir N. Layard attributed to him the overthrow of Turkey.

See his letter of February 1, 1878, in _Sir W. White: Life and

Correspondence_, p. 127.] A still worse fate befell those of his

troops which hung about Radetzky's front below the Shipka Pass. The

Russians devised skilful moves for capturing this force. On January 5-8

Prince Mirsky threaded his way with a strong column through the deep

snows of the Travna Pass, about twenty-five miles east of the Shipka,

which he then approached; while Skobeleff struggled through a still more

difficult defile west of the central position. The total strength of the

Russians was 56,000 men. On the 8th, when their cannon were heard

thundering in the rear of the Turkish earthworks at the foot of the

Shipka Pass, Radetzky charged down on the Turkish positions in front,

while Mirsky assailed them from the east. Skobeleff meanwhile had been

detained by the difficulties of the path and the opposition of the Turks

on the west. But on the morrow his onset on the main Turkish positions

carried all before it. On all sides the Turks were worsted and laid down

their arms; 36,000 prisoners and 93 guns (so the Russians claim) were

the prize of this brilliant feat (January 9, 1878)[154].

[Footnote 154: Greene, _op. cit._ chap. xi. I have been assured by an

Englishman serving with the Turks that these numbers were greatly

exaggerated.]

In Roumelia, as in Armenia, there now remained comparatively few Turkish

troops to withstand the Russian advance, and the capture of

Constantinople seemed to be a matter of a few weeks. There are grounds

for thinking that the British Ministry, or certainly its chief, longed

to send troops from Malta to help in its defence. Colonel Wellesley,

British attaché at the Russian headquarters, returned to London at the

time when the news of the crossing of the Balkans reached the Foreign

Office. At once he was summoned to see the Prime Minister, who inquired

eagerly as to the length of time which would elapse before the Russians

occupied Adrianople. The officer thought that that event might occur

within a month--an estimate which proved to be above the mark. Lord

Beaconsfield was deeply concerned to hear this and added, "If you can

only guarantee me six weeks, I see my way." He did not further explain

his meaning; but Colonel Wellesley felt sure that he wished to move

British troops from Malta to Constantinople[155]. Fortunately the

Russian advance to Adrianople was so speedy--their vanguard entered that

city on January 20--as to dispose of any such project. But it would seem

that only the utter collapse of the Turkish defence put an end to the

plans of part at least of the British Cabinet for an armed intervention

on behalf of Turkey.

[Footnote 155: _With the Russians in Peace and War_, by Colonel F.A.

Wellesley, p. 272.]

Here, then, as at so many points of their history, the Turks lost their

opportunity, and that, too, through the incapacity and corruption of

their governing class. The war of 1877 ended as so many of their wars

had ended. Thanks to the bravery of their rank and file and the mistakes

of the invaders, they gained tactical successes at some points; but they

failed to win the campaign owing to the inability of their Government to

organise soundly on a great scale, and the intellectual mediocrity of

their commanders in the sphere of strategy. Mr. Layard, who succeeded

Sir Henry Elliot at Constantinople early in 1878, had good reason for

writing, "The utter rottenness of the present system has been fully

revealed by the present war[156]." Whether Suleiman was guilty of

perverse obstinacy, or, as has often been asserted, of taking bribes

from the Russians, cannot be decided. What is certain is that he was

largely responsible for the final _débacle_.

[Footnote 156: _Sir William White: Life and Correspondence_, p. 128.]

But in a wider and deeper sense the Turks owed their misfortunes to

themselves--to their customs and their creed. Success in war depends

ultimately on the brain-power of the chief leaders and organisers; and

that source of strength has long ago been dried up in Turkey by adhesion

to a sterilising creed and cramping traditions. The wars of the latter

half of the nineteenth century are of unique interest, not only because

they have built up the great national fabrics of to-day, but also

because they illustrate the truth of that suggestive remark of the great

Napoleon, "The general who does great things is he who also possesses

qualities adapted for civil life."

CHAPTER IX

THE BALKAN SETTLEMENT

New hopes should animate the world; new light

Should dawn from new revealings to a race

Weighed down so long, forgotten so long.

ROBERT BROWNING, _Paracelsus_.

The collapse of the Turkish defence in Roumelia inaugurated a time of

great strain and stress in Anglo-Russian relations. On December 13,

1877, that is, three days after the fall of Plevna, Lord Derby reminded

the Russian Government of its promise of May 30, 1876, that the

acquisition of Constantinople was excluded from the wishes and

intentions of the Emperor Alexander II., and expressed the earnest hope

that the Turkish capital would not be occupied, even for military

purposes. The reply of the Russian Chancellor (December 16) was

reserved. It claimed that Russia must have full right of action, which

is the right of every belligerent, and closed with a request for a

clearer definition of the British interests which would be endangered by

such a step. In his answer of January 13, 1878, the British Foreign

Minister specified the occupation of the Dardanelles as an event that

would endanger the good relations between England and Russia; whereupon

Prince Gortchakoff, on January 16, 1878, gave the assurance that this

step would not be taken unless British forces were landed at Gallipoli,

or Turkish troops were concentrated there.

So far this was satisfactory; but other signs seemed to betoken a

resolve on the part of Russia to gain time while her troops pressed on

towards Constantinople. The return of the Czar to St. Petersburg after

the fall of Plevna had left more power in the hands of the Grand Duke

Nicholas and of the many generals who longed to revenge themselves for

the disasters in Bulgaria by seizing Constantinople.

In face of the probability of this event, public opinion in England

underwent a complete change. Russia appeared no longer as the champion

of oppressed Christians, but as an ambitious and grasping Power. Mr.

Gladstone's impassioned appeals for non-intervention lost their effect,

and a warlike feeling began to prevail. The change of feeling was

perfectly natural. Even those who claimed that the war might have been

averted by the adoption of a different policy by the Beaconsfield

Cabinet, had to face the facts of the situation; and these were

extremely grave.

The alarm increased when it was known that Turkey, on January 3, 1878,

had appealed to the Powers for their mediation, and that Germany had

ostentatiously refused. It seemed probable that Russia, relying on the

support of Germany, would endeavour to force her own terms on the Porte.

Lord Loftus, British Ambassador at St. Petersburg, was therefore charged

to warn the Ministers of the Czar (January 16) that any treaty made

separately between Russia and Turkey, which affected the international

treaties of 1856 and 1871, would not be valid without the consent of all

the signatory Powers. Four days later the Muscovite vanguard entered

Adrianople, and it appeared likely that peace would soon be dictated at

Constantinople without regard to the interests of Great Britain

and Austria.

Such was the general position when Parliament met at Westminster on

January 17. The Queen's Speech contained the significant phrase that,

should hostilities be unfortunately prolonged, some unexpected

occurrence might render it incumbent to adopt measures of precaution.

Five days later it transpired that the Sultan had sent an appeal to

Queen Victoria for her mediation with a view to arranging an armistice

and the discussion of the preliminaries of peace. In accordance with

this appeal, the Queen telegraphed to the Emperor of Russia in

these terms:--

I have received a direct appeal from the Sultan which I

cannot leave without an answer. Knowing that you are

sincerely desirous of peace, I do not hesitate to communicate

this fact to you, in hope that you may accelerate the

negotiations for the conclusion of an armistice which may

lead to an honourable peace.

This communication was sent with the approval of the Cabinet. The nature

of the reply is not known. Probably it was not encouraging; for on the

next day (January 23) the British Admiralty ordered Admiral Hornby with

the Mediterranean fleet to steam up the Dardanelles to Constantinople.

On the following day this was annulled, and the Admiral was directed not

to proceed beyond Besika Bay[157]. The original order was the cause of

the resignation of Lord Carnarvon. The retirement of Lord Derby was also

announced, but he afterwards withdrew it, probably on condition that the

fleet did not enter the Sea of Marmora.

[Footnote 157: For the odd mistake in a telegram, which caused the

original order, see _Sir Stafford Northcote, Earl of Iddesleigh_, by

Andrew Lang, vol. ii. pp. 111-112.]

Light was thus thrown on the dissensions in the Cabinet, and the

vacillations in British policy. Disraeli once said in his whimsical way

that there were six parties in the Ministry. The first party wanted

immediate war with Russia; the second was for war in order to save

Constantinople; the third was for peace at any price; the fourth would

let the Russians take Constantinople and _then_ turn them out; the fifth

wanted to plant the cross on the dome of St. Sofia; "and then there are

the Prime Minister and the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who desire to

see something done, but don't know exactly what[158]." The coupling of

himself with the amiable Sir Stafford Northcote is a good instance of

Disraelian irony. It is fairly certain that he was for war with Russia;

that Lord Carnarvon constituted the third party, and Lord Derby

the fourth.

[Footnote 158: _Ibid_. pp. 105-106. For the telegrams between the First

Lord of the Admiralty, W.H. Smith, and Admiral Hornby, see _Life and

Times of W.H. Smith_, by Sir H. Maxwell, vol. i. chap. xi.]

On the day after the resignation of Lord Carnarvon, the British Cabinet

heard for the first time what were the demands of Russia. They included

the formation of a Greater Bulgaria, "within the limits of the Bulgarian

nationality," practically independent of the Sultan's direct control;

the entire independence of Roumania, Servia, and Montenegro; a

territorial and pecuniary indemnity to Russia for the expenses of the

war; and "an ulterior understanding for safeguarding the rights and

interests of Russia in the Straits."

The extension of Bulgaria to the shores of the Aegean seemed at that

time a mighty triumph for Russian influence; but it was the last item,

vaguely foreshadowing the extension of Russian influence to the

Dardanelles, that most aroused the alarm of the British Cabinet. Russian

control of those straits would certainly have endangered Britain's

connections with India by way of the Suez Canal, seeing that we then had

no foothold in Egypt. Accordingly, on January 28, the Ministry proposed

to Parliament the voting of an additional sum of £6,000,000 towards

increasing the armaments of the country. At once there arose strong

protests against this proposal, especially from the districts then

suffering from the prolonged depression of trade. The outcry was very

natural; but none the less it can scarcely be justified in view of the

magnitude of the British interests then at stake. Granted that the views

of the Czar were pacific, those of his generals at the seat of war were

very much open to question[159]. The long coveted prize of

Constantinople, or the Dardanelles, was likely to tempt them to

disregard official orders from St. Petersburg, unless they knew that

any imprudent step would bring on a European war. In any case, the vote

of £6,000,000 was a precautionary measure; and it probably had the

effect of giving pause to the enthusiasts at the Russian headquarters.

[Footnote 159: See the compromising revelations made by an anonymous

Russian writer in the _Revue de Paris_ for July 15, 1897. The authoress,

"O.K.," in her book, _The Friends and Foes of Russia_ (pp. 240-241),

states that only the autocracy could have stayed the Russian advance on

Constantinople. General U.S. Grant told her that if he had had such an

order, he would have put it in his pocket and produced it again when in

Constantinople.]

The preliminary bases of peace between Russia and Turkey were signed at

Adrianople (Jan. 31) on the terms summarised above, except that the

Czar's Ministers now withdrew the obnoxious clause about the Straits. A

line of demarcation was also agreed on between the hostile forces; it

passed from Derkos, a lake near the Black Sea, to the north of

Constantinople, in a southerly direction by the banks of the Karasou

stream as far as the Sea of Marmora. This gave to the Russians the lines

of Tchekmedje, the chief natural defence of Constantinople, and they

occupied this position on February 6. This fact was reported by Mr.

Layard, Sir Henry Elliot's successor at Constantinople, in alarmist

terms, and it had the effect of stilling the opposition at Westminster

to the vote of credit. Though official assurances of a reassuring kind

came from Prince Gortchakoff at St. Petersburg, the British Ministry on

February 7 ordered a part of the Mediterranean fleet to enter the Sea of

Marmora for the defence of British interests and the protection of

British subjects at Constantinople. The Czar's Government thereupon

declared that if the British fleet steamed up the Bosporus, Russian

troops would enter Constantinople for the protection of the Christian

population.

This rivalry in philanthropic zeal was not pushed to its logical issue,

war. The British fleet stopped short of the Bosporus, but within sight

of the Russian lines. True, these were pushed eastwards slightly beyond

the limits agreed on with the Turks; but an arrangement was arrived at

between Lord Derby and Prince Gortchakoff (Feb. 19) that the Russians

would not occupy the lines of Bulair close to Constantinople, or the

Peninsula of Gallipoli commanding the Dardanelles, provided that British

forces were not landed in that important strait[160]. So matters rested,

both sides regarding each other with the sullenness of impotent wrath.

As Bismarck said, a war would have been a fight between an elephant

and a whale.

[Footnote 160: Hertslet, iv. p. 2670.]

The situation was further complicated by an invasion of Thessaly by the

Greeks (Feb. 3); but they were withdrawn at once on the urgent

remonstrance of the Powers, coupled with a promise that the claims of

Greece would be favourably considered at the general peace[161].

[Footnote 161: L. Sergeant, _Greece in the Nineteenth Century_ (1897),

ch. xi.]

In truth, all the racial hatreds, aspirations, and ambitions that had so

long been pent up in the south-east of Europe now seemed on the point of

bursting forth and overwhelming civilisation in a common ruin. Just as

the earth's volcanic forces now and again threaten to tear their way

through the crust, so now the immemorial feuds of Moslems and

Christians, of Greeks, Servians, Bulgars, Wallachs, and Turks, promised

to desolate the slopes of the Balkans, of Rhodope and the Pindus, and to

spread the lava tide of war over the half of the Continent. The Russians

and Bulgars, swarming over Roumelia, glutted their revenge for past

defeats and massacres by outrages well-nigh as horrible as that of

Batak. At once the fierce Moslems of the Rhodope Mountains rose in

self-defence or for vengeance. And while the Russian eagles perforce

checked their flight within sight of Stamboul, the Greeks and Armenians

of that capital--nay, the very occupants of the foreign

embassies--trembled at sight of the lust of blood that seized on the

vengeful Ottomans.

Nor was this all. Far away beyond the northern horizon the war cloud

hung heavily over the Carpathians. The statesmen of Vienna, fearing that

the terms of their bargain with Russia were now forgotten in the

intoxication of her triumph, determined to compel the victors to lay

their spoils before the Great Powers. In haste the Austrian and

Hungarian troops took station on the great bastion of the Carpathians,

and began to exert on the military situation the pressure which had been

so fatal to Russia in her Turkish campaign of 1854.