Every one knew when the fields-guns ceased talking on the evening of the 19th that we were in for a big fight next day, and that the Russians were preparing to make an infantry attack. Hassib Bey, the principal medical officer, and Reif Bey, his second in command, were busy making preparations for the reception of the wounded; and the owners of several of the largest houses were unceremoniously evicted by the military authorities with the curt notification that their residences were required for hospital purposes. Weinberger and I dined with Robert that night at his house, and had a tremendous "shivoo," the expatriated Swiss surpassing all his previous bacchanalian exploits, and adding sundry incoherent battle-songs to his répertoire of selections, until the Viennese housekeeper finally asserted her authority and closed the festivities. I went off to bed at my own quarters about midnight, and found that my Circassian had arranged all my effects in order and made me fairly comfortable. All the medical staff had received instructions to assemble at the main hospital at seven o'clock in the morning; so I tumbled into bed at once, and slept until I was awakened at about six o'clock by the roar of the field artillery in action once more. The guns had already been firing for a couple of hours, and the engagement was in full progress, when I hurried to the large Bulgarian schoolhouse, which had been converted into the principal hospital.
At this stage it will be convenient to sketch briefly the main features of the attack which General Schilder-Schuldner delivered on Plevna on July 20, and of the manner in which he was defeated by Osman Pasha.
The total Russian force operating against him was supposed by Osman Pasha, from information which we obtained, to amount to thirteen thousand men. The total available strength in Plevna was about fifteen thousand men, most of whom, however, were in poor trim for fighting, having just arrived after a long and arduous march, and having been deprived of sleep for many nights in succession. On the night before the battle Osman Pasha gave strict orders to the outposts to exercise the greatest vigilance, so as to prevent a night surprise, and instructed the commanding officers to group their men as much as possible, and not allow them to straggle. An attack was imminent; but it was difficult to foresee in what direction it would be made. Roughly speaking, the Turkish line of defence extended from the village of Grivitza on the east of the town, along the slopes of the Janik Bair, and away through Bukova to Opanetz on the north-west, the right wing being at Grivitza and the left at Opanetz.
Soon after four o'clock the battle began by the Russian artillery opening fire upon the Grivitza positions, and the Turkish batteries at once replied. Then a brisk fusillade was heard on the hills in the direction of Opanetz, and the general advance of the Russians began. Five battalions of Russian infantry advanced to the assault, and threw themselves upon the Turkish left wing, forcing it backwards.
Osman Pasha quickly despatched supports, and the Turks charged home with the bayonet, whilst the Russian troops stood firm against the attack. The heaviest of the fighting took place on the slope of the Janik Bair extending towards Plevna, and here the loud "hurrahs" of the Russians were answered by cries of "Allah," "Allah," from the Turkish lines. After three hours' fighting the Russians, who had sustained enormous losses, were repulsed and driven off in full retreat, while the reserves sent up to support them retired without having taken part in the engagement. The initial success of the Russians in forcing back the Turkish line of defence no doubt conduced towards their defeat; for, encouraged by the result of the first attack, they straggled on in disorder, and fell in with a hot fire from the hedges and walls all round them.
While our troops were holding the enemy in check on the left, a Russian infantry attack was developed on our right wing, where two lines of trenches were carried; and finally the third and last trench was also carried at the point of the bayonet, nearly all the Russian officers having been killed. Turkish supports were hurried up, and the Russians, who had suffered terrible loss, were driven from the positions which they had taken, and were put to complete rout.
When I reached the building where I was instructed to report myself, I found that it consisted of two large rooms, the outer of which contained fifty beds, while the inner was furnished with three or four benches intended to serve as operating tables. The rooms were high and well ventilated with many windows, and fortunately there was an abundant water supply, while the building stood in about two or three acres of ground. This had originally been the playground of the Bulgarian children who attended the school. Now it was filled with wounded men, and the laughter of the children was replaced by groans of agony. Already the courtyard was full; and as I looked up the Nicopolis road I could see a long string of Bulgarian arabas, each drawn by two little white oxen, bringing the wounded down from the battle-field. Only the men who were gravely wounded were brought in these arabas, and hundreds had to drag themselves down on foot. As the rough, springless arabas jolted over the cobble-stones of the Plevna street, the sufferings of the wounded men must have been excruciating. There was no field hospital to render first aid, and it is not easy to imagine the misery of an unfortunate wretch, say, with a compound fracture of the thigh, transported in a cart and without any surgical attendance from the field to the base hospital. The two ends of the bone jarring together with every movement of the cart could not but cause the most exquisite agony.
As far as the eye could reach stretched the long line of arabas, each with its load of suffering men. Every cart was driven by its Bulgarian owner, and escorted by a Turkish soldier to see that the Bulgarian did not despatch the unhappy victims before their time. The foremost carts had already arrived, and the entrance was blocked by the jostling drivers all anxious to get rid of their loads, while every minute fresh wounded kept staggering in on foot. Even the stoical Turks could not help moaning when they were lifted out of the carts by unskilful hands and dragged into the hospital, which was quickly assuming the appearance of a slaughter-house. Dead and dying were lying one on top of another in many of the arabas, matted together with clotted blood.
Other ambulances had been established in different parts of the town; but this was the principal one, and there were six other surgeons besides myself attached to it. I pulled off my coat, and went to work at once. The first man whom I tackled had walked down from the field. He had been shot through the jaw, and was much blanched from loss of blood. I plugged the hole with lint, and passed on to the next unfortunate, who had been shot through the liver by a fragment of shell. Part of the liver was sticking out through the wound, and the man, who was much collapsed, although quite conscious and in great pain, formed a shocking spectacle. He had a great tear in his liver. I stitched it up and washed the wound; but the case was a hopeless one. If I could have given him chloroform, thoroughly opened him up, and washed everything out, I might have been able to save him; but there was no time for that. He lingered on in great agony, and died on the following day.
In dealing with gunshot wounds, where the variety is practically unlimited and no two cases are the same, the surgeon has to be resourceful and inventive. I was here brought face to face with conditions which were quite new to me, and with extraordinary complications, which required the most delicate and careful operations, but which had to be dealt with out of hand and in a few minutes. Looking back now I am filled with wonder that so many of our wounded recovered, considering the unfavourable conditions under which they were treated. The third man whom I tackled had been struck in the abdomen by a piece of shell, and about one foot of his intestine was projecting through the wound. In that condition he had been carried from the hill where he was shot, and, needless to say, he was in a horrible condition. I washed the intestine, enlarged the wound, again shifted the intestine back into its place, and stitched the wound up. In a week or two the man recovered, and went back to his place in the ranks.