The Circassian Chief: A Romance of Russia

“Curses on the fell Giaour!” he exclaimed. “Yonder flames and smoke are their hellish work! See how the burning cottages, and farms, and ripe corn fields of our countrymen, mark the course of our foes. See, they take the passes towards Anapa. Ha! we may yet be in time to stop them before they reach that castle. They will no doubt attempt the passage of the valley of the Zemes; and there the brave Seraskier Manjour Bey will be found in waiting for them. Onward, my friends, we will see what these Moscov are about.”

Saying which, the whole party urged their horses down the dizzy mountain’s side, crossing valleys, streams, rocks and hills, in their eagerness to arrive at the scene of action. It was nearly sun-set when they came within hearing of distant and straggling shots; and, surmounting a hill, they perceived in the broad valley below them, the vast Russian force winding its way by the side of a clear stream, which protected one flank.

The long and close columns advanced in regular and steady order; their colours waving above their heads, their bands playing animating and lively airs, and their artillery guarding their van and rear. Trains of baggage and ammunition waggons were in the centre, furnished with all the “materiel” for war; while troops of Cossacks scoured the fields on each side, to protect their flanks, and to guard them from a surprise. Here and there might be seen hovering around them, parties of the patriot horsemen, every now and then charging the Cossacks, grappling with their opponents, bearing them off, or cutting them down, ere the Russians could point their howitzers at the assailants.

A messenger now arrived who had been sent in search of the Hadji’s party from the Seraskier, then commanding the main body of the Circassians assembled to impede the Russian’s progress. He informed them that this chief had determined to hazard no engagement till the enemy had entered the valley of the Zemes, which they would probably do on the following morning; calling in all stragglers to form an ambuscade, except a few scouts to watch the movements of the foe. The Hadji and his party directly determined to obey the wishes of the General, as did most of the parties who had been engaged in harassing the enemy’s advance; though a few still continued hovering on his flanks.

The Hadji and his followers, therefore, turned their horses’ heads in the direction of the spot where their friends were assembled; riding over the summit of the hills, which bounded the valley, till they arrived at the edge of the lofty cliffs forming the sides of the pass or glen of the Zemes. The Seraskier Manjour Bey came forward to welcome the friends who had so opportunely arrived; and led them round to the places where he had posted his men, who were to sleep that night on their arms ready for any sudden movement of the enemy, should they attempt to pass through the gorge under cover of the night; the Hadji placing his followers in other advantageous positions. Behind every rock and bush, on every projecting craig where footing was to be found, were to be seen the athletic forms of the highland warriors, their rifles and bows ready for action, and their ears intent to catch the first notes of the Russian horns in their advance. Many also, in places to which they could lead their horses, were crouching down by the side of the well-trained animals, hidden by the thick brushwood and broken rocks.

It was but a small body of mountaineers whom the Hadji and Selem found assembled; they were entirely destitute of artillery, and there was a scarcity of ammunition. They could, therefore, depend alone on their sharp broad swords to contend with the well-trained bands of Europe supplied with all the “materiel” of war. The Hadji was deeply disappointed when he discovered the hopelessness of entirely annihilating the Russian army, as he at first expected; but he determined to gall them, as much as possible, in their march.

Here the brave patriot band continued the live-long night in eager expectation; not a word above a whisper being uttered to disturb the dead silence which reigned around. Young Alp remained by his father’s side, as did Selem, for they well knew that where the fight was thickest, there would the gallant old warrior be found. Seated on the soft heather, on a bank rising but a little way above the bottom of the glen, they passed the night, listening to his long tales of war, and his adventures. Our hero, unaccustomed as yet to the night watch, and the bivouac, was worked up to the highest pitch of excitement and expectation; the night seemed interminably protracted; but to the other hardy warriors it was an affair of constant occurrence, though they were, perhaps, no less eager for the issue of the approaching combat, which might be of such vital importance to the liberty of the province of Khapsoukhi.

At length, as reclined on the turf, he gazed up into the pure calm sky, dotted with myriads of stars, they seemed to grow fainter and fainter, until he could scarcely distinguish them, amid the blue void. He sprung to his feet; not a sound was heard; the first faint streaks of dawn appeared in the east, yet no one moved from the leafy shelter. The sun rose, a vast globe of living fire, glowing as if in anger at the scene of blood on which his beams were so soon to shine; now throwing a glowing red flame on the dew-besprinkled trees above their heads, soon to be followed by one of still deeper hue.

So calm and quiet was the scene, that a traveller might have passed through the glen, unconscious that he was surrounded by hundreds of warriors and their steeds. All were on the tiptoe of expectation; for every moment might bring up the Russian army; when the interest was increased tenfold as the scouts, breaking through the brushwood, spurred their horses up the sides of the glen.

“The Urus are advancing! The Urus are advancing!” they cried, as they passed to make their report to the Seraskier, and to take their station within the shelter of the thickets. All things wore again the silence of the grave; then the cheering sounds of drums and fifes came faintly on the breeze, through the windings of the valley; next, the firm tread of the approaching host might be heard; and then appeared the advance guard of the Russian army. Onward they came, regardless of danger. Each of the highland warriors held his breath with eagerness, and more firmly grasped his sword to spring forward on the foe; or kept his finger on the lock of his rifle, or drew his arrow to his ear, prepared for the word of command to commence the work of death.

Not a leaf moved, not a whisper was heard, when the advancing column of the Russian force appeared in sight. The leading file came directly below the ambuscade. At this moment, a terrific cry arose from the sides of the glen, reverberating from rock to rock, from craig to craig, down the whole extent of the savage pass.

“Come, my sons, now is the moment; we’ll up and be at them. Follow, those who will. Wa Allah! Allah! Allah!” cried the gallant Hadji, springing to his horse. His example was followed by Alp, Selem, and about twenty other warriors, who drew their scymitars as they rushed from the leafy cover; shrieking, rather than shouting their war cry, and dashing among the foremost ranks of the Russians, giving them not a moment to defend themselves.

It is necessary to go back a little in our narrative, and explain the cause of this sudden incursion on the part of the Russians. When the brig of war returned to Ghelendjik, bringing the remnant of the garrison, and an account of the loss of the fort, the rage of Baron Galetzoff knew no bounds; especially when he heard that our hero had been one of the most daring leaders, and that Lieutenant Stanisloff had escaped. Again, and again, he renewed his vows of wreaking vengeance on the Circassians, and expressed his determination to capture the two friends at all hazards. Count Erintoff confessed that he had, at first, the intention of putting the Baron’s warrant into execution himself, and dispatching Thaddeus in prison, with his own hands; but the surprise of the mountaineers had been so sudden, that he had barely time to escape with his life. Some time after these events, a fleet arrived with fresh troops to garrison Ghelendjik; and the Baron received orders from the general-in-chief to proceed with a large body of troops by land, to Anapa, through the defiles of the Zemes, from thence to take up his position, and erect a new fort near the Kouban, at no great distance from the spot where the Ubin falls into that river.

The Baron marched out of the fort with four or five thousand men under his command, well supplied with all the munitions of war, and was allowed to proceed unmolested through the broader valleys, where his cannon had range enough to play, leaving, as he advanced through the smiling vales, dotted with hamlets, and spread with verdant fields, a long track of ruin and desolation behind him. So suddenly, indeed, had the Russian army sallied out, that the inhabitants had scarce time to drive off their flocks and herds, and remove their valuables, as from a distance they mournfully beheld, but with a keen hope of vengeance, their habitations wantonly committed to the flames. The Russians continued to advance through the open valleys, and through the first part of the defiles of the Zemes, without meeting a foe; the country throughout appealing to be some land of enchantment, so calm and beautiful did it look. They began to congratulate themselves on having awed the natives into peace, and on the hope of being allowed to perform their march without molestation. Towards the evening, indeed, a few Circassians appeared, attacking their flanks, at intervals, like hornets on some huge animal, and flying off, before there was time to send any of their own cavalry to pursue them. The General had ordered the Cossacks to scour the sides of the hills, to prevent the main body from being taken by surprise – a most hazardous service; for, one by one, those who took the outer range disappeared, and their comrades, who went in search of them, shared the same fate; but there was no time to make inquiries.

That night the army slept on their arms; before the sun arose on the following morning, they were again on their march. They advanced cautiously through many serpentine windings of a deep gorge; at their feet rushed the surge of a mountain torrent, in whose bright waters the soldiers eagerly slaked their thirst. Not a foe had been seen as onward they marched, the cool morning air refreshing their cheeks, and a deep and solemn silence reigning through the glen.

In a moment that scene of quiet and repose was changed into one of carnage and confusion. The foremost ranks fell back, trembling at the sound of the war shout of the mountaineers, as from behind every craig, shrub, and tree, a destructive shower of bullets and arrows fell thick among them. At that instant, a troop of fierce horsemen leaped from amid the rocks, hewing down all who crossed their path; and, ere the cannon could be brought to bear, vanishing on the opposite side.

It was the daring band of Guz Beg.

“Ya Allah! well done, my sons!” cried the veteran. “My brave Alp, you will not disgrace your father. You cut down those vile Urus as a mower cuts corn with his sickle. Ask what you will of me, my son, and it shall be granted for that one charge. What say you, my friends, shall we be at them again?”

Saying which, before there was time to think of the great danger they ran, the Hadji’s band were once more upon the amazed and confused ranks of the foe, scarce recovered from their first panic. They were not this time so fortunate; one of their number fell by the fire which the Russians now opened upon them; and Selem was nearly suffering the same fate, for, as he swept by, he perceived the Count Erintoff in the advance, who spurred on his horse to meet him; but too many men intervened for them to exchange blows; and Selem was obliged to follow his friends, being the last Circassian horseman who reached the covert of the wood.

“That will do for the present,” said the Hadji. “But, mashallah! I should like to be among them again. A few charges like that would annihilate their army.”

Selem, however, urged him not to attempt the manoeuvre, which involved too great a risk, without advantage, to his valuable life. However, the Hadji and Selem were every where to be seen dashing at the foe, then galloping up the steep sides of the glen.

The Russians, stunned with the terrific cries knew not which way to turn. Where they least expected an attack, they found themselves grappled by the active mountaineers, who seemed to leap from the cliffs above their heads, dealing death around them with their sharp broad daggers, then rapidly disappearing among the rocks, leaping from craig to craig, where none could follow. Hundreds were shot down by the silent arrows of their invisible foe; nor, as they gazed with fear around, could they tell whence the shafts proceeded. The soldiers saw their comrades next to them sink down, struck by those winged messengers of death. Their ranks were thinning fast, nor could they defend themselves, nor attack their aggressors; but in these trying moments, the stern discipline, even of slaves, triumphed over their fears, and rescued them from the hands of the most daring and courageous warriors. The officers shewed courage worthy of a nobler and better cause: exerting themselves to the utmost, with calm voices, keeping up the men’s spirits, closing their ranks, and leading them on in order.

But could it have been real courage which enabled the men to endure this terrific storm? It was rather a dull and heartless apathy. They saw their fellows fall; and knew that they were released from a life of privation and tyrannical suffering; and cared not if it should be their fate to be the next victims. It mattered but little whether death should come by famine, the sword, or by pestilence; too certainly would they fall by one or the other.

The army, with thinned ranks, continued to advance, protected, as they defiled into more open ground, by their light howitzers carried on the backs of horses; every now and then keeping the slender force of their daring assailants at a distance, as they could bring their guns to bear on them. They marched as fast as they were capable of doing; but they were not yet secure; for the Seraskier of the Circassians, a brave, but a sagacious and cautious leader; though he would not allow his followers to attempt competing with the Russians on the plain; attacked their rear and flank incessantly, until, when near Anapa, he was joined by another larger body of the patriots.

The whole army of the enemy might now have been destroyed, had the mountaineers possessed artillery. As it was, they escaped destruction solely through the garrison of Anapa making a sortie to their rescue, with artillery and a strong body of Cossacks. The harassed remnant at length reached that fortress.

“Mashallah!” cried the old warrior, as he looked angrily towards their retiring columns when they entered the fort; “We’ve repaid them for the surprise they attempted to give your noble father. They will not forget this day’s work, for a long time to come. Allah! if we had some of their light guns, they would not have escaped as they have done. But fear not, my sons, we will meet them again before long.”

There seemed every probability that the campaign in this part of the Caucasus would be soon finished for that year. The Hadji, therefore, with his followers, returned to the camp on the Ubin to wait further events.

The preceding is a faithful account of the style of warfare the Russians have to engage in with the mountaineers of the Caucasus, in which thousands of their soldiers annually fall victims. But what matters such a loss to the government of St. Petersburg? They have millions of slaves to replace those who fall; and they have resolved to subdue the barbarians in spite of the rivers of innocent blood which may flow. May Heaven grant that the bravery and patriotism of the high-minded and gallant Circassians may be completely triumphant over all the efforts of their slavish and despotic oppressors!

Volume Three – Chapter Five

Thaddeus Stanisloff was now perfectly happy. No longer did he hesitate to approach the anderoon, and no longer did Ina fear to meet him; her ear was ever intent to catch his approaching footstep, when, in spite of old Kahija’s frowns, she would start up, and hasten to the gate of the enclosure, for within those sacred precincts, no man dares venture to approach.

She did not, however, stop to analyse very clearly her own feelings; but they were so novel, so delightful, so pure, she could not help indulging in them. Thaddeus loved Ina, with the most ardent, tender attachment; and often did he anticipate a life of happiness, passed in her society, amidst the vales and mountains of Circassian when he would teach her the love, religion, and the customs of civilised Europe, and eagerly did she listen to these discourses of her gallant preserver.

Still they had not yet talked of love; yet, much did he long to speak in the language of confidence, unrestrained by the presence of the gentle Zara, or the young Conrin.

Early one morning, he met his mistress at the gate of the anderoon, fortunately before old Kahija had made her appearance; seizing the opportunity —

“Ina,” said he, “I have much of deep and earnest import to communicate; and I would not, that other ears than yours, should listen. Will you deign to meet me then, and hear my words, for here I cannot speak them? Ere the sun has set this evening, will you meet me, Ina, in the sacred grove, near the ruins, over whose shattered fragments the Cross still rears its head triumphant?”

“Stranger,” answered Ina, “you are my brother’s trusted friend. I know too from your brave and generous nature, that you would not seek aught from me, that is unbecoming a maiden’s modesty.”

“Believe me, you will do no wrong in trusting me. I’ll wait until you can steal from old Kahija’s vigilance. Your page can see you safe, and watch the while we speak, that none intrude. Do you consent, lady?”

“I will meet you, noble stranger,” answered Ina, with timidity, and blushing as she spoke. “I know that you will guard me from danger.”

“Thanks, Ina, thanks, for your confidence; my life shall answer for your safety!”

Thaddeus might, perhaps, at that time have found an opportunity of letting Ina fully understand his devoted love for her; when they were interrupted by the coming of the discreet old Kahija, who considered that the conversation had already endured beyond the bounds of decorum. He was most unwillingly, therefore, obliged to retire, and to pass away the hours in thinking of his mistress; until the old nurse should have gone to the Mosque for evening prayer, when Ina would meet him.

The spot Thaddeus had selected, was a beautiful grove situated a little way up the mountain side, which, from time immemorial, had been looked on with veneration, by the inhabitants; because there, according to tradition, their ancestors had formerly worshipped the Great Spirit, and his Son who once visited earth. In his wanderings, Thaddeus had discovered the ruins he mentioned, which were those of a church of considerable size, as appeared by the fragments, still remaining scattered here and there, among the herbage; but many years must have passed since it was reduced to its present state, from the large trees growing amidst the stones.

The foot of the cross itself, formed from two large blocks, had been deeply imbedded in a rock, projecting from the mountain’s side. Over the sacred emblem, the trees had formed a sheltering arbour, its existence there being a fit symbol of the Christian religion, standing on the rock amid the ruin and decay even of its own temples and rites.

To this spot resorted those, who would ask some special favour of the mighty spirit they worshipped; but, ignorant of him who had chosen it as his emblem, they would fall down in adoration before it; many believing that the spirit himself dwelt within it, and that the stone retained hidden virtues. It was also considered as a sanctuary, which none would dare to violate. Any one followed by his most deadly enemy, who could reach it, might cling to its support and there be safe from vengeance. Even those professing Islamism still held it in veneration. Chaplets of flowers, the votive offerings of the worshippers, were hung on the surrounding trees until they withered away.

Thaddeus eagerly hastened to the spot, long ere the time he might expect the coming of his mistress; but he wished to be alone in that sacred place to commune with himself, to dwell upon the anticipation of his bliss should his hopes of her answer be fulfilled. He wandered round the ruins of the once sacred pile; sometimes he feared she could not really love him, and a moment afterwards he felt confident of winning her. Then he threw himself beneath the shade of some tree, and anxiously watched the lengthening shadows; and next he would rise and hasten through the grove, towards the direction whence his mistress should come; but he saw her not. The sun had not yet sunk low enough in the heavens, and he regretted that he had not persuaded her to come at an earlier hour. He again returned, lest, perhaps, she might have passed some other way.

Inspired by the solemnity of the spot, he threw himself down before the cross, and offered up his thanksgiving to heaven for his own preservation, and his prayers for future blessings. Deeply absorbed in his devotions, he thought not of the lapse of time; and, as he rose and gazed eagerly around to see if Ina was near, the sun had reached the edge of the mountain, tinging its sides with a saffron hue, and throwing a deep shade at its base. The minutes now passed like hours; he feared something might have prevented her coming; some accident might have befallen her; he thought of the revenge of the Khan and trembled for her safety.

As despair was about taking possession of him, at length, his heart bounded as he caught sight of her, moving amid the trees like some benign spirit of the groves. At a little distance from her, followed Conrin, slowly and mournfully; who, on seeing Thaddeus, turned aside.

The young lover hastened forward to meet his mistress; he gently took her hand, which she did not withdraw, as he led her to a seat, formed of a broken architrave, beneath the cross. For some minutes neither spoke, as they sat gazing on the rich and smiling valley below them, which was clothed with a soft mellow light; a serene and solemn silence reigned over the whole scene. The lovers felt perfect happiness; they feared to speak, lest a word might break the soft enchantment.

Thaddeus turned to Ina, and, gazing on her eyes, so liquid and tender, yet so lustrous, he saw an expression there which gave him courage to speak. “Ina,” he said, “I came to this land a stranger among your people. All my hopes in life were blighted. I had been an imprisoned felon, condemned to death, every instant expecting to die by the hands of my comrades, but was rescued by your brother’s bravery. To him I owe all I now possess: I owe him my life, and – more far more than life – the happiness of seeing you. From the moment I saw you, I loved you; from that moment your image has never been absent from my thoughts. In the ardour of the chase, in the solitude of the night, I have thought alone of you; and oh! the rapture, when I found you were saved from the ruffian who would have torn you from me! Sweetest Ina, I love you!”

Ina gazed at him. A sweet smile irradiated her features; her eyes sparkled with animation.

“Is it possible?” she said, with an inquiring look. “That you, Thaddeus, accustomed to the magnificence of the cities, and the accomplished beauties of Frangistan, can think of a mountain maid like me, who has never passed her native shores? Perhaps, you spoke but in sport; but no, you would not tamper thus with my heart.”

“Ina, could words alone convince you how ardently I love you, I would speak them,” answered Thaddeus; “but no language has fitting words to express my feelings. I would die to save you from harm. Dearest Ina, can you love me?”

“Love you? Blessed joy! oh yes! Perhaps, I do not love you as I ought; still I would not that any arm but yours should have saved me from him that would have torn me from you. Do you think I love you now?”

“Yes, dearest,” said her lover, folding her in his arms as her head sank upon his neck. “Yes, Ina, by yonder cross I swear to guard you with my life; to love no other but you.”