International Weekly Miscellany of Literature, Art and Science - Volume 1, No. 9, August 26, 1850

The first includes the mass of the armed people; whose zeal it promotes by strict religious and moral injunctions enjoining purity of life, exact regard to the ritual of the Koran, teaching pilgrimages, fasting, ablutions; the duty of implacable war against the Infidel, the sin of enduring his tyranny.

The second is composed of those, who, in virtue of striving upward to a higher Divine intelligence, are elevated above ceremonial religion. Of these the Murids (seekers or strugglers,) are formed: a body of religious warriors attached to the Imam, whose courage in battle, raised to a kind of frenzy, despises numbers and laughs at death. To accept quarter, or to fly from the Infidel, is forbidden to this class.

The third includes the more perfect acolytes, who are presumed to have risen to the ecstatic view of the Deity. These are the elect, whom the Imam makes Naibs or vice-regents,—invested with nearly absolute power in his absence.

The fourth, or highest, implying entire union with the Divine essence, is held by Schamyl alone. In virtue of this elevation and spiritual endowment, the Imam, as an immediate organ of the Supreme Will, is himself the source of all law to his followers, unerring, impeccable; to question or disobey his behests is a sin against religion, as well as a political crime. It may be seen what advantage this system must have given to Schamyl in his conflict with the Russians. The doctrine of the indifference of sects and forms enabled him to unite the divided followers of Omar and of Ali, in a region where both abound, and where the schism had formerly been one of the most effectual instruments of the enemy. The belief in a Divine mission and spiritual powers sustains his adherents in all reverses; while it invites to defection from the Russian side those of the Mohammedan tribes who have submitted to the invader. Among these, however, Schamyl, like his predecessors in the same priestly office, by no means confides the progress of his sect to spiritual influences only. The work of conversion, where exhortation fails, is carried on remorselessly by fire and sword; and the Imam is as terrible to those of his countrymen whom fear or interest retains in alliance with Russia, as to the soldiers of the Czar. With a character in which extreme daring is allied with coolness, cunning, and military genius, with a good fortune which has hitherto preserved his life in many circumstances where escape seemed impossible,—it may be seen that the belief in his supernatural gifts and privileges, once created, must always tend to increase in intensity and effect among the imaginative and credulous Mohammedans of the Caucasus; and that this apt combination of the warrior with the politician and prophet accounts for his success in combining against the Russians a force of the once discordant tribes of Daghestan, possessing more of the character of a national resistance than had been ever known before in the Caucasus,—and compelling the invaders to purchase every one of their few, trifling, and dubious advances by the terrible sacrifice of life already noticed.

In this formidable movement the highlander's natural freedom is fanned into a blaze by a religious zeal like that which once led the armies of Islam over one half of Asia and Europe. Although it reached its highest energy and a more consummate development under Schamyl, it was begun by his predecessors. Of the Mullah Mohammed, who first preached the duty of casting off the yoke of the Giaour, and the necessity of a religious reform and union of rival sects, as a means to that end, we have already spoken. This founder of the new system, an aged man, untrained in arms, never himself drew the sword in the cause; but was active in diffusing its principles and preparing a warlike rising by exhortations and letters circulated through all Daghestan. Suspected of these designs, he was seized, in 1826, by the orders of Jermoloff; and although be escaped,—by the connivance, it is said, of the native prince employed to capture him,—he afterward lived, in a kind of concealment, for some years. The post of Imam was thereupon assumed by a priest who was able to fight for the new doctrine as well as to preach it. The first armed outbreak took place under Kasi-Mullah, about the year 1829; from which time, until his death in a battle at Himry, in 1831, he waged a terrible, and, although often defeated, a virtually successful warfare, against the Russians, while he prosecuted the work of conversion among the tribes of Islam who delayed to acknowledge his mission, and to join in his enmity to the Russians, by the extremities of bloodshed and rapine. His death, after an heroic resistance, was hailed as a triumph by the Russians. They counted on the extinction of the new sect in the defeat of its leader, whose dead body they carried about the country to prove the imposture of his pretensions. This piece of barbarism produced an effect the reverse of what they expected. The venerable face of the Imam, the attitude in which he had expired, with one hand pointed as if to heaven, was more impressive to those who crowded round the body than his fearless enthusiasm had been,—and thousands who till then had held aloof, now joined his followers in venerating him as a prophet. Of this first warrior-priest of Daghestan, Schamyl was the favorite disciple and the most trusted soldier. Kasi-Mullah was not killed until Schamyl had already fallen as it seemed, under several deadly wounds:—his reappearance after this bloody scene was but the first of many similar escapes, the report of which sounds like a fable. He did not, however, at once succeed to the dignity of Imam: the office was usurped for more than a year by Hamsad Beg (Bey), whose rapacious and savage treatment of some of the princely families of Daghestan nearly caused a fatal reaction against the new sect, and the destruction of its main support, the Murids. Hamsad Beg performed no action of consequence against the Russians; but expended his rage upon the natives allied with them, or reluctant to obey his mandates. He was assassinated in 1834, by some kinsmen of a princely house whose territories he had usurped after a massacre of its princes. In the affray which took place on this occasion, there perished with him many of the fanatic Murids, who had become odious as instruments of the cruelties of their Imam. On his death, Schamyl was raised to the dignity,—but it was some time before the mischief done by his predecessor was so far repaired as to allow him to act with energy as the prophet of the new doctrine. One of the ill effects of Hamsad Beg's iniquities had been the defection to the Russians of n notable partisan—Hadjii Murad—for many years a fatal thorn in the side of the independent party.6 This and other difficulties, among which was the unpopularity of the Murids under Hamsad Beg, were removed by new alliances and precautions, while all that eloquence and skill could perform was applied to restore the credit of the religious system, before Schamyl could hazard a direct attack of the Russian enemy, who meanwhile had taken advantage of the delay and disunion to gain ground in many parts of Daghestan. From the year 1839, however, the tide rapidly turned; and the result, from that date until the period at which the account closes (1845)—when Woronzow was appointed to command in the Caucasus, with nearly unlimited powers,—has been, that the Russians, in spite of tremendous sacrifices, were constantly losing ground and influence, while Schamyl gained both in equal proportion. The details of the campaigns during this interval are highly interesting; and we regret that conditions of space forbid us to translate some of the exciting episodes recorded by Herr Bodenstedt. We may, however, extract the following account of the Caucasian hero,—whose portrait, we believe, has never before been so fully exhibited to European readers;—

"Schamyl is of middle stature; he has light hair, gray eyes, shaded by bushy and well-arched eyebrows,—a nose finely moulded, and a small mouth. His features are distinguished from those of his race by a peculiar fairness of complexion and delicacy of skin: the elegant form of his hands and feet is not less remarkable. The apparent stiffness of his arms, when he walks, is a sign of his stern and impenetrable character. His address is thoroughly noble and dignified. Of himself he is completely master; and he exerts a tacit supremacy over all who approach him. An immovable stony calmness, which never forsakes him, even in moments of the utmost danger, broods over his countenance. He passes a sentence of death with the same composure with which he distributes "the sabre of honor" to his bravest Murids, after a bloody encounter. With traitors or criminals whom he has resolved to destroy, he will converse without betraying the least sign of anger or vengeance. He regards himself as a mere instrument in the hands of a higher Being; and holds, according to the Sufi doctrine, that all his thoughts and determinations are immediate inspirations from God. The flow of his speech is as animating and irresistible as his outward appearance is awful and commanding. "He shoots flames from his eyes, and scatters flowers from his lips,"—said Bersek Bey, who sheltered him for some days after the fall of Achulgo,—when Schamyl dwelt for some time among the princes of the Djighetes and Ubiches, for the purpose of inciting the tribes on the Black Sea to rise against the Russians. Schamyl is now (circa 1847?) fifty years old, but still full of vigor and strength: it is however said, that he has for some years past suffered from an obstinate disease of the eyes, which is constantly growing worse. He fills the intervals of leisure which his public charges allow him, in reading the Koran, fasting, and prayer. Of late years he has but seldom, and then only on critical occasions, taken a personal share in warlike encounters. In spite of his almost supernatural activity, Schamyl is excessively severe and temperate in his habits. A few hours of sleep are enough for him: at times he will watch for the whole night, without Showing the least trace of fatigue on the following day. He eats little, and water is his only beverage. According to Mohammedan custom, he keeps several wives—[this contradicts Wagner, who affirms that Schamyl always confined himself to one]; in 1844 he had three, of which his favorite, Dur Heremen, (Pearl of the Harem) as she was called, was an Armenian, of exquisite beauty."

Will Russian arms prevail in the end? The following is Herr Bodenstedt's answer; after noticing the arrival of Woronzow, and the expectations raised by his talents, by the immense resources at his command, as well as by such events as the storm of Schamyl's stronghold of Cargo:—

"He who believes that the issue of this contest hangs on the destruction of stone fortresses, on the devastation of tracts of forest, has not yet conceived the essential nature of the war in the Caucasus. This is not merely a war of men against men—it is a strife between the mountain and the steppe. The population of the Caucasus may be changed; the air of liberty wafted from its heights will ever remain the same. Invigorated by this atmosphere, even Russian hirelings would grow into men eager for freedom: and among their descendants a new race of heroes would arise, to point their weapons against that servile constitution, to extend which their fathers had once fought, as blind, unquestioning slaves."

To this answer of Herr Bodenstedt's we will add nothing of our own. We are weary with waiting for the events of history such as we would have them.

COOLING A BURNING SPIRIT

An incident which occurred soon after the accession of the present Sultan, shows that, in some respects, at least, he is not indisposed to follow up the strong traditions of his race. At the beginning of his reign, the Ulema was resolved, if possible, to prevent the new Sultan from carrying on those reforms which had ever been so distasteful to the Turks, grating at once against their religious associations and their pride of race, and which recent events had certainly proved not to be productive of those good results anticipated by Sultan Mamoud. To attain this object, the Muftis adopted the expedient of working on the religious fears of the youthful prince. One day as he was praying, according to his custom, at his father's tomb, he heard a voice from beneath reiterating, in a stifled tone, the words, "I burn." The next time that he prayed there the same words assailed his ears. "I burn" was repeated again and again, and no word beside. He applied to the chief of the Imams to know what this prodigy might mean; and was informed in reply, that his father, though a great man, had also been, unfortunately, a great reformer, and that as such it was too much to be feared that he had a terrible penance to undergo in the other world. The Sultan sent for his brother-in-law to pray at the same place, and afterward several others of his household; and on each occasion the same portentous words were heard. One day he announced his intention of going in state to his father's tomb, and was attended thither by a splendid retinue, including the chief doctors of the Mahometan law. Again, during his devotions, were heard the words, "I burn," and all except the Sultan trembled. Rising from his prayer-carpet, he called in his guards, and commanded them to dig up the pavement and remove the tomb. It was in vain that the Muftis interposed, reprobating so great a profanation, and uttering warnings as to its consequences. The Sultan persisted, the foundations of the tomb were laid bare, and in a cavity skillfully left among them was found—not a burning Sultan, but a Dervise. The young monarch regarded him for a time fixedly and in silence, and then said, without any further remark or the slightest expression of anger, "You burn?—We must cool you in the Bosphorus." In a few minutes more the dervise was in a bag, and the bag immediately after was in the Bosphorus.—De Vere's Sketches.

[From Household Words.]

AN OLD HAUNT

The rippling water, with its drowsy tone,— The tall elms, tow 'ring in their stately pride,— And—sorrow's type—the willow sad and lone, Kissing in graceful woe the murmuring tide;— The grey church-tower,—and dimly seen beyond, The faint hills gilded by the parting sun,— All were the same, and seem'd with greeting fond To welcome me as they of old had done. And for a while I stood as in a trance, On that loved spot, forgetting toil and pain;— Buoyant my limbs, and keen and bright my glance, For that brief space I was a boy again! Again with giddy mates I careless play'd, Or plied the quiv'ring oar, on conquest bent:— Again, beneath the tall elms' silent shade, I woo'd the fair, and won the sweet consent. But brief, alas! the spell,—for suddenly Peal'd from the tower the old familiar chimes, And with their clear, heart-thrilling melody, Awaked the spectral forms of darker times And I remember'd all that years had wrought— How bow'd my care-worn frame, how dimm'd my eye, How poor the gauds by Youth so keenly sought, How quench'd and dull Youth's aspirations high! And in half mournful, half upbraiding host, Duties neglected—high resolves unkept— And many a heart by death or falsehood lost, In lightning current o'er my bosom swept. Then bow'd the stubborn knees, as backward sped The self-accusing thoughts in dread array, And, slowly, from their long-congealed bed, Forced the remorseful tears their silent way. Bitter yet healing drops in mercy sent, Like soft dews tailing on a thirsty plain,— And ere those chimes their last faint notes had spent, Strengthen'd and calm'd, I stood erect again. Strengthen'd, the tasks allotted to fulfill;— Calm'd the thick-coming sorrows to endure; Fearful of nought but of my own frail will,— In His Almighty strength and aid secure. For a sweet voice had whisper'd hope to me,— Had through my darkness shed a kindly ray;— It said: "The past is fix'd immutably, Yet is there comfort in the coming day!"

KILLING A GIRAFFE

At every stride I gained upon the giraffes, and, after a short burst at a swingeing gallop, I was in the middle of them, and turned the finest cow out of the herd. On finding herself driven from her comrades and hotly pursued, she increased her pace, and cantered along with tremendous strides, clearing an amazing extent of ground at every bound; while her neck and breast, coming in contact with the dead old branches of the trees, were continually strewing them in my path. In a few minutes I was riding within five yards of her stern, and, firing at a gallop, I sent a bullet into her back. Increasing my pace, I next rode alongside, and, placing the muzzle of my rifle within a few feet of her, I fired my second shot behind the shoulder; the ball, however, seemed to have little effect. I then placed myself directly in front, when she came to a walk. Dismounting, I hastily loaded both barrels, putting in double charges of powder. Before this was accomplished, she was off at a canter. In a short time I brought her to a stand in the dry bed of a watercourse, where I fired at fifteen yards, aiming where I thought the heart lay, upon which she again made off. Having loaded, I followed, and had very nearly lost her; she had turned abruptly to the left, and was far out of sight among the trees. Once more I brought her to a stand, and dismounted from my horse. There we stood together alone in the wild wood. I gazed in wonder at her extreme beauty, while her soft dark eye, with its silky fringe, looked down imploringly at me, and I really felt a pang of sorrow in this moment of triumph for the blood I was shedding. Pointing my rifle toward the skies, I sent a bullet through her neck. On receiving it she reared high on her hind legs and fell back with a heavy crash, making the earth shake around her. A thick stream of dark blood spouted out from the wound, her colossal limbs quivered for a moment, and she expired.—Cummings' Adventures.

THE VETERAN KOLOMBESKI

Several journals have spoken of the entry into the Hotel des Invalides of a soldier, stated to be 126 years of age. This is not quite correct. The following are some precise details respecting this extraordinary man, who arrived at the Hotel on the 21st inst.:—Jean Kolombeski, born at Astrona (Poland), on the 1st of March, 1730, entered the service of France, as a volunteer in the Bourbon regiment of infantry, in 1774, at the age of forty-four. He was made corporal in 1790, at the age of sixty. He made all the campaigns of the Revolution and of the Empire, in different regiments of infantry, and was incorporated, in 1808, in the 3d regiment of the Vistula. He was wounded in 1814, and entered the hospital at Poitiers, which he soon afterward left to be placed en subsistence in the 2d regiment of light infantry. On the 11th of October of the same year he was admitted into the 1st company of sous-officiers sedentaires, and, in 1846, into the 5th company of Veteran Sub-Officers. The last three of these companies having just been suppressed by the Minister of War, Kolombeski was placed en subsistence in the 61st regiment of the line, received a retiring pension by decree of May 17, 1850, and the Minister authorized his admission into the Invalides. Kolombeski is, therefore, more than 120 years of age; he reckons seventy-five and a half years of service, and twenty-nine campaigns. He enjoys good health, is strong and well made, and does not appear to be more than seventy or eighty. He performed every duty with big comrades of the 5th company of Veterans, When King Louis Philippe visited Dreus, Kolombeski was presented to him, who, taking the decoration from his breast, presented it to the veteran soldier. This is the most astonishing instance of longevity that has, perhaps, been ever known in the army. The Marshal Governor of the Invalides ordered that Kolombeski should be brought to him on his arrival; but, as the old soldier was fatigued, he was taken to the infirmary, and the Governor, informed of it, went to his bedside with General Petit, the commandant of the hotel, and addressed the veteran in the kindest manner. The Governor has issued an order that, for the future, all centenarian soldiers admitted into the hospital shall mess with the officers, in order to show his respect for their age, and for the long services they have rendered to the state.—Galignani's Messenger.

ANECDOTE OF LORD BROUGHAM

The "Life of the Rev. Dr. Hugh Heugh" has a description of an interview which a deputation of Scotch dissenters had some years ago with Lord Brougham. The Scotsman adds, from its private knowledge, some odd incidents of the affair.

His lordship, on coming out of the court to meet the deputation, immediately on being informed of their object, burst out in a volley of exclamations to the effect that, but for dissent, there would be "No vital religion—no vital religion, gentlemen, no vital religion." While pouring forth this in a most solemn tone, he was all the while shaking violently the locked doors of a lobby full of committee rooms, into one of which he wished to find entrance, and calling for an absent official not only in passionate tones, but in phraseology which the reverend deputation, at first unwilling to trust their own ears, were at last forced to believe was nothing better than profane swearing. At last, he suddenly drew himself up to the wall opposite a locked door, and with a tremendous kick, smashed the lock, and entered (exclaiming, first in a vehement and then in a solemn tone, but without pause) "—that fellow! where the —— does he always go to! No vital religion, gentlemen, no vital religion—no, no, no."

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Volume I. No. 9., by Various

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