The Circassian Chief: A Romance of Russia

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The Governor looked with pity on Thaddeus, as he gave the Count’s message; but he himself received it unmoved, and thus addressed the officer:

“I ask you to defend my fame whenever you hear my name blackened; say then, that I died true to my colours, and to my oath. That is my only request.”

“I will do my utmost to defend your character,” said the officer.

“Farewell!” exclaimed Thaddeus, “till to-morrow’s dawn. Delay the execution, if possible, till the sun rises. I would look once more on that glorious luminary: his beams will aid my strength.”

“It shall be as you wish, if I can possibly so arrange it,” returned the officer, as he hastened from the prison, and left Thaddeus again to meditate in solitude on his impending fate.

The night had at first been serene and beautiful, but towards morning, sudden gusts of wind howled through the rocks and buildings of the fort. The thunder broke in loud peals over head, and flashes of lightning illuminated the gloom of his small and dark prison, through the bars of the only aperture to give light and air. The tumult of the tempest awoke Thaddeus from a slumber into which he had fallen. It seemed to him to rage with greater fury than at first, as he sat up, watching each bright flash. The wind had increased to a hurricane.

The tempest, however, quickly passed over, and all was again silent, except the low sullen roar of the ocean, as its waves dashed on the rocky and caverned shore, or the distant murmur of the passing blast among the trees of the neighbouring mountain.

The dawn was about to break. Thaddeus, whose spirits were exhausted by his mental sufferings, had thrown himself on the rough log, which formed the only seat and couch of his prison, and was falling into a quiet slumber, when he was startled by a fearful shriek, piercing to the inmost recesses of the fort. Again and again it arose from all sides, far louder than the howling of the late tempest, drowning the shouts of the soldiers, as they rushed to their posts at the walls. Soon the roar of artillery, and the rattle of musketry seemed endeavouring to overpower the sound of that war-cry; but it triumphed over all, and sounded nearer and nearer. Thaddeus felt that he could not be mistaken; he had heard that tremendous shout but a few days before, when attacked by the mountain cavalry.

The cannon had ceased its roar, when next arose the shouts of the Russian soldiery; succeeded by thrilling cries for mercy and agonised groans of despair, answered by the loud, overwhelming huzzas of “Allah! Allah!” from all sides. A momentary silence ensued; and then a tramping of feet, as of men engaged in desperate strife. Even he, from whom the fear of death had passed away, felt his heart beat quick, and his breath almost stopped. The cries passed close to him; the bullets rattled against his prison walls; and the flashes of the guns lighted up the gloom of the chamber. The strange unearthly noises grew more confused; the reports of the firing ceased, except a few straggling shots, and the shouts of the combatants passed on.

Knowing little of the localities of the fort, Thaddeus could not discover in what direction the combatants had gone, when he again heard the sound of the rapid steps of a body of men passing close to his prison. Presently, loud and quick reports of musketry were heard, and he concluded that a body of Russians, cut off from their retreat to the shore, had thrown themselves into some strong building, and were making a last desperate defence. They seemed to be successful, as the firing increased, when an awful pause ensued, a tremendous deafening explosion took place, as if an earthquake had rent the earth; the prison walls were shaken to their foundation; the door flew open, and the roof fell in, overwhelming the prisoner in its ruins.