When the brunt of the work was over, I went back to my quarters, and Czetwertinski and Victor Lauri went with me—Czetwertinski because he was very delicate, and Lauri because he had no servant of his own, and did not know where else to go. About four days after the battle, Czetwertinski, who was in touch with the headquarters staff, heard that Osman Pasha was looking for some one who would endeavour to run the gauntlet of the Russians, posted all round Plevna, and carry his despatches to Constantinople. The gallant young Pole brought me the news, and asked me if I would join him in an attempt to get through with the papers. We sat up most of the night talking the matter over, and Czetwertinski carefully explained to me that, while we should certainly be hanged if we fell into the hands of the Russians, we should be rewarded with the highest decorations if we were successful in the attempt.
We agreed to offer our services as despatch-carriers to Osman Pasha, and next morning Czetwertinski waited on the commander-in-chief and formally represented our decision. Osman Pasha thanked us warmly, but declined our offer, preferring to entrust the task to a Circassian, who, being more intimately acquainted with the country, would stand a better chance of getting through the enemy's lines.
Gay, the Daily Telegraph correspondent, however, was extremely anxious to get away. He had shut himself up in his own room as soon as the battle was over, and had been writing all day and all night ever since, preparing a glowing description of the stirring events which had taken place. He had completed a fine budget of work, and was naturally burning to get it into his paper; for it meant a great journalistic coup for the Telegraph, as Gay was the only correspondent with the Turkish army, though Forbes, MacGahan, and many others were with the Russians. The first step was to engage a guide, and Gay selected a smart young Circassian, who willingly undertook the job for the munificent reward of three thousand piastres, which he was promised as soon as Sofia was reached. Sitting in his room in Plevna, Gay wound up his despatch for the Daily Telegraph by describing his plans for getting it to Sofia. "To-day, September 15," he wrote, "the cannonade goes forward languidly, nor is it at all likely that it will end so long as the Russians have a gun or a man anywhere near us. But it is comparatively harmless, so far as affecting the Turkish position goes, and will some day, when Osman Pasha is reinforced, as he shortly will be, come to an untimely end. For my own part I am about to endeavour to-night to break the blockade which surrounds Plevna. For two days I have sought for Circassians who would undertake the task of piloting me over the mountains in the dark and failed. Last evening Osman Pasha found a one-eyed chieftain, who with a comrade has engaged to conduct me if the feat is at all practicable, and according to present arrangements I am to start to-night about the time it begins to get dark. Mr. Victor Lauri too is anxious to go with me; and a Turkish officer also desires to be one of the party, which will thus consist of two Circassians, a Turkish sergeant, and my servant, an Ionian lad, a Greek groom, Mr. Lauri, the Turkish officer, and myself—in all a party of eight well armed. At the moment of my writing the Circassians and the Greek are out on a voyage of exploration, with a view to seeing whether there is the possibility of our accomplishing the task, in which case they will be back by evening ready to pilot us. As the risk is great, the Circassians are to be amply rewarded directly Sofia is reached, that is, if the work be faithfully done, and upon their report now all rests. For myself I am determined to go if they will take me. What the result will be time alone can show. But if you get this letter safely, I shall have run the gauntlet, and will then telegraph you the history of our risky ride across country."
As a matter of fact Gay did not start on that night. Czetwertinski and I went out with him to the outposts to see him off; but it was plain that the psychological moment was not yet. It was a bright moonlight night, and we could see the Russian vedettes sitting on their horses all round us. A cat could not have got through the lines without being seen, let alone a man on horseback; and the captain in command of our outpost absolutely refused to allow the attempt to be made, pointing out that it meant certain capture and death for all the party.
On the following night, however, Gay and his escort got away. We heard afterwards that they had a lively time of it, for they were chased by Cossacks, and fired on repeatedly by startled Russian sentries. It was only through the speed and bottom of their horses that they reached Orkhanieh in safety, and thence made their way to Sofia. Gay had a quarrel with Lauri before he went, and the result was that the little German artist stayed behind with me.
CHAPTER X.
THE INVESTMENT OF PLEVNA.
Lauri and the Sausage—A Diet of "Poiled Peans"—The Ways of a Parlementaire—Politeness on the Battle-field—Indefatigable Burrowing by the Turks—Skobeleff's Annoyance—A Visit to a Redoubt—Russian Artillery Practice—I lose my Groom—Geese, and how to get them—I go out reconnoitring—We have a Hot Ten Minutes—Looking out for a New Horse—A Grand Charger lost—We retire on Netropol—The Use of Artillery—The Russians attack our Convoy—We lose our Medical Stores—A Humorous Russian Prisoner—Afternoon Coffee with Sadik Pasha—A Call made under Difficulties—The Uninvited Guest—Kronberg my Colleague—He saves a Supposed Spy—A Visit to Sadik Pasha—Coffee under difficulties—In my Hospital again—Fearful Scenes of Suffering—Wounds, Filth, and Disease—Heavy Mortality—Antiseptics exhausted—Appearance of Gangrene—My Anatolian Soldier—Pyæmia Rampant.
Amid the recollection of all those scenes of bloodshed, the memory of the little German artist's yearning for the unattainable stands out clear and distinct. It was connected with a German sausage; but in order to make the matter plain, it is necessary to point out that Gay and Lauri had expended about thirty pounds in equipping a private commissariat department before they came to Plevna. In Constantinople they had bought provisions of all kinds: English kippered herrings, American canned beef, potted vegetables of strange and fearful hues, portable meat lozenges, and last, but not least, a magnificent German sausage—not one of those insignificant cylinders of suspicious ingredients which are exposed for sale in the piping times of peace, but a sausage which was constructed, so to speak, on a war footing. It was about four feet long and one foot six inches in circumference, and it was enclosed in a metal case of the kind generally used to carry maps and charts. This noble specimen of wurst was the apple of little Lauri's artistic eye. But, alas! I was ignorant of this. Before Gay went away, being incensed with Lauri over some trivial dispute, he presented me with the remains of the commissariat, which, it appeared, had been bought with his money, and which included the famous sausage. He also gave me several other things, including a capital bell tent, which, I am sorry to say, was afterwards stolen from me.