CHAPTER XIV.
Return to Gasko—Thunderstorm—Attacked by Rebels—Enemy repulsed—Retrograde Movement—Eventful Night—Turkish Soldiers murdered—Montenegrin Envoy—Coal-Pit—Entrenched Camp assaulted—Return of Omer Pacha to Mostar—Distinctive Character of Mahometan Religion—Naval Reorganisation—Military Uniforms—Return to Mostar—Dervisch Bey—Zaloum—Express Courier—Giovanni—Nevresign—Fortified Barrack—Mostar—Magazine—Barracks—Wooden Block-houses—European Commission—Tour of the Grand Vizier—Enquiry into Christian Grievances—Real Causes of Complaint—Forcible Abduction of Christian Girls—Prince Gortschakoff's Charges—The Meredits—Instincts of Race.
On our return from the town we found the leading battalions in the act of crossing the stream which separates the valley from the overhanging woodland. The 900 ponies, now deprived of their burden, carried in lieu thereof sick soldiers from Niksich, or such as preferred riding to walking. Little order prevailed, and it is only wonderful that the consequences of entering a defile more than an hour after midday should not have proved more disastrous than they actually did. In vain I added my remonstrances to those of some of the staff, who were intelligent enough to predict evil. The order had been issued. The advance guard had already marched, and it was too late to countermand the departure. Thus saying, Osman Pacha crossed the stream and ascended to the high ground, now covered with a confused mass of bipeds and quadrupeds. At this moment the rain, which had ceased during the past hour, began to descend once more in torrents, accompanied by vivid flashes of lightning and thunder, which, though still distant, reverberated through the woods with grand effect. In the midst of this we retraced our steps until about 4 p.m., when the centre of the column, with the baggage and head-quarters, defiled from the woods into one of the open spaces, of which mention has been made. The General informed me of his intention to halt there until the morning; and he could not have found a spot better calculated for the purpose, since, by massing the troops in the centre, they would have been out of range of the surrounding heights, and a double line of sentries would have been the only precaution absolutely necessary. For some reason he, however, subsequently changed his mind, and the delay which had taken place only made matters worse. The advance guard of four battalions, under Yaya Pacha, had continued the march in ignorance of the halt of the main body, and were ere this out of hearing or chance of recall. Scarcely had we recommenced our advance when a dropping shot in the rear gave us the first announcement that the enemy had taken advantage of our false step, and was bent on harassing what would now assume the appearance of a retreat.
The shots, which were at first few and distant, soon increased, and by the time that the Affghan and myself had reached the rear of the column the action appeared to have become general. Ali Pacha, who commanded the rear-guard, now committed the grave error of halting the three battalions of his brigade, and wasted most valuable time in performing desultory movements, and in firing volleys of grape and musketry, without arriving at any practical results. At one point, however, the rebels, who were advancing in force with loud cries of fanatical vengeance, received a substantial check. Two companies of Turks had been concealed on either side of the defile, which was narrow at this point. Concealment was facilitated by approaching darkness, and it was only at a given signal that they rose and poured a deadly volley into the ranks of the advancing foe, who immediately fell back. This circumstance appeared to damp their ardour, and they contented themselves with running in small parties along the flank of our line of march; two or three would dash down the sloping banks, and, having discharged their pieces without aim or precision, would return to the safety afforded by the rocks and trees. It was between 6 and 7 o'clock before the order to resume the march was issued. And now began a scene which none who witnessed are likely to forget to their dying day: deeply tragical it might have been, but fortunately circumstances combined to render it merely ridiculous, as reflected in the mirror of memory. The rain still fell heavily, lying in places to the depth of nearly a foot, and converting all the ground that was not rocky into a slippery quagmire. So profound was the darkness, that it was literally impossible to see any object six inches from one's eyes, and it was only by the occasional flashes from the firelocks of the persevering enemy and the forked lightning that we could realise the surrounding scene. By the light of the last were revealed horses and men falling in all directions, and I may safely say, that some of the 'crumplers' received that night would have shaken the nerve of the hardest steeplechase rider. For my own part I preferred walking, after my horse had fallen twice, and with this object proceeded to dismount, but on bringing my leg to the ground, as I imagined, I made a rapid descent of about eight feet. On clambering up I was met with a sharp blow on the face from what I believe to have been the butt of a Turkish musket, and my horse was not to be found. About half an hour later, while feeling for the road, to my great satisfaction, I placed my hand upon my English saddle, and thus repossessed myself of my steed. No need to dilate farther on the events of that disastrous evening. Suffice to say that, after some hours more of scrambling and toiling, falling frequently over the stones and trees which were strewn plentifully across the path, we reached the spot where the advanced body had arrived some four hours previously, and had succeeded, in spite of the rain, in kindling a few fires. It was close upon midnight when Ali Pacha arrived at head-quarters to report that the rear-guard had reached the bivouac, though nothing was known as to the losses incurred in men, horses, or provisions. All that was certain was that one gun had been abandoned, the mule which carried it having rolled down a ravine. This was never found, as the rebels, who passed the night within ten minutes' walk of our bivouac, had carried it off before the arrival of the force sent back at daybreak to effect its recovery. Our loss, however, proved to be insignificant—two killed and six wounded, and a few ponies, &c., missing. As might be supposed, the Slavish newspapers magnified the affair into a great and decisive victory for the rebels. It is true that it reflected little credit on Osman Pacha; and it might have been fully as disastrous to the Turks as their worst enemies could have desired, had not the intense darkness of the night, the heavy rain, and the want of pluck in the Christians (a fault of which they cannot in general be accused), combined to get them out of the scrape without any serious loss. The two whose deaths it was impossible to disallow, as their mangled bodies gave evidence thereof, were foully butchered by these long-suffering Christians. It came about as follows:—An officer and three soldiers had remained a little in rear of the column, being footsore with the march. As the rebels came swiftly and quietly along, one of the soldiers, believing them to be a Turkish regiment, made some observation. In a moment he and his comrade were seized, and, while receiving many assurances of safety, were stripped to the skin. The officer and the third soldier instantly concealed themselves behind some of the projecting rocks, within ten yards of the spot, and thus became auditors of the ensuing tragedy. No sooner had the rebels stripped their unfortunate captives, than they fell upon them en masse, literally making pin-cushions of their naked bodies. Throughout that long and painful night did those two men lie hid in jeopardy of their lives, and glad must they have been when they saw the rebels retracing their blood-stained steps on the following morning, and more grateful still when the arrival of the Turkish force enabled them to feel assured of life and liberty. The following afternoon we returned to Krustach, where we found a Montenegrin emissary, who was journeying homeward, having had an interview with Omer Pacha. He was a finely built and handsome man, dressed in his national costume, with a gold-braided jacket, and decorated with a Russian medal and cross, for his services against Turkey at a time when Russia was at peace with that power. He had been Superintendent of the Montenegrin workmen at Constantinople, and had consequently seen something of European manners, although unacquainted with any language save Slave and some Turkish. He told me that he had left 400 followers in Piwa; but this I found did not exactly coincide with a statement he had made to Omer Pacha, and it subsequently transpired that his body guard amounted to about double that number. This worthy asked me to accompany him to Cettigne, but circumstances conspired to prevent my accepting the invitation; and so we separated, he to Cettigne, we to Gasko on the following day.
During one of the halts on the line of march, I found the mouth of what must have been a coal-pit of large dimensions. The entrance of this was on the bank of a dry stream, and several masses of what appeared to be a concrete of lignite and coal betokened the existence of the latter in a purer form within the bowels of the surrounding country. This I showed to Omer Pacha, who said that he would adopt my suggestion of having it worked by military labour for the purpose of consumption during the winter months. In several places, I subsequently came across the same characteristics, which convince me of the existence of a spurious description of coal in large quantities in the province. In Bosnia it is plentiful, and of a very superior quality.
Some miles before we reached the camp we were met by Omer Pacha and his staff.
As may be supposed, the most extravagant reports of the extent of our disaster had preceded us. The most moderate of these involved the death of Ali Pacha (no great loss by the way), and about 1,000 men put hors de combat. Omer's face wore a grave expression when we met, and his 'Eh bien, Monsieur, nous avons perdu un canon sans utilité' boded ill for the peace of Osman Pacha. It was a pleasing duty to be able to refute the assertion that this last had lost his head on the occasion in question. Although guilty of grievous error of judgement, the other more pitiful charge could hardly be laid to his account, since he never for a moment lost his habitual sangfroid and self-possession.