The Circassian Chief: A Romance of Russia

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Come, my sons, now is the moment; we’ll up and be at them. Follow, those who will. Wa Allah! Allah! Allah!” cried the gallant Hadji, springing to his horse. His example was followed by Alp, Selem, and about twenty other warriors, who drew their scymitars as they rushed from the leafy cover; shrieking, rather than shouting their war cry, and dashing among the foremost ranks of the Russians, giving them not a moment to defend themselves.

It is necessary to go back a little in our narrative, and explain the cause of this sudden incursion on the part of the Russians. When the brig of war returned to Ghelendjik, bringing the remnant of the garrison, and an account of the loss of the fort, the rage of Baron Galetzoff knew no bounds; especially when he heard that our hero had been one of the most daring leaders, and that Lieutenant Stanisloff had escaped. Again, and again, he renewed his vows of wreaking vengeance on the Circassians, and expressed his determination to capture the two friends at all hazards. Count Erintoff confessed that he had, at first, the intention of putting the Baron’s warrant into execution himself, and dispatching Thaddeus in prison, with his own hands; but the surprise of the mountaineers had been so sudden, that he had barely time to escape with his life. Some time after these events, a fleet arrived with fresh troops to garrison Ghelendjik; and the Baron received orders from the general-in-chief to proceed with a large body of troops by land, to Anapa, through the defiles of the Zemes, from thence to take up his position, and erect a new fort near the Kouban, at no great distance from the spot where the Ubin falls into that river.

The Baron marched out of the fort with four or five thousand men under his command, well supplied with all the munitions of war, and was allowed to proceed unmolested through the broader valleys, where his cannon had range enough to play, leaving, as he advanced through the smiling vales, dotted with hamlets, and spread with verdant fields, a long track of ruin and desolation behind him. So suddenly, indeed, had the Russian army sallied out, that the inhabitants had scarce time to drive off their flocks and herds, and remove their valuables, as from a distance they mournfully beheld, but with a keen hope of vengeance, their habitations wantonly committed to the flames. The Russians continued to advance through the open valleys, and through the first part of the defiles of the Zemes, without meeting a foe; the country throughout appealing to be some land of enchantment, so calm and beautiful did it look. They began to congratulate themselves on having awed the natives into peace, and on the hope of being allowed to perform their march without molestation. Towards the evening, indeed, a few Circassians appeared, attacking their flanks, at intervals, like hornets on some huge animal, and flying off, before there was time to send any of their own cavalry to pursue them. The General had ordered the Cossacks to scour the sides of the hills, to prevent the main body from being taken by surprise—a most hazardous service; for, one by one, those who took the outer range disappeared, and their comrades, who went in search of them, shared the same fate; but there was no time to make inquiries.

That night the army slept on their arms; before the sun arose on the following morning, they were again on their march. They advanced cautiously through many serpentine windings of a deep gorge; at their feet rushed the surge of a mountain torrent, in whose bright waters the soldiers eagerly slaked their thirst. Not a foe had been seen as onward they marched, the cool morning air refreshing their cheeks, and a deep and solemn silence reigning through the glen.

In a moment that scene of quiet and repose was changed into one of carnage and confusion. The foremost ranks fell back, trembling at the sound of the war shout of the mountaineers, as from behind every craig, shrub, and tree, a destructive shower of bullets and arrows fell thick among them. At that instant, a troop of fierce horsemen leaped from amid the rocks, hewing down all who crossed their path; and, ere the cannon could be brought to bear, vanishing on the opposite side.

It was the daring band of Guz Beg.

“Ya Allah! well done, my sons!” cried the veteran. “My brave Alp, you will not disgrace your father. You cut down those vile Urus as a mower cuts corn with his sickle. Ask what you will of me, my son, and it shall be granted for that one charge. What say you, my friends, shall we be at them again?”

Saying which, before there was time to think of the great danger they ran, the Hadji’s band were once more upon the amazed and confused ranks of the foe, scarce recovered from their first panic. They were not this time so fortunate; one of their number fell by the fire which the Russians now opened upon them; and Selem was nearly suffering the same fate, for, as he swept by, he perceived the Count Erintoff in the advance, who spurred on his horse to meet him; but too many men intervened for them to exchange blows; and Selem was obliged to follow his friends, being the last Circassian horseman who reached the covert of the wood.

“That will do for the present,” said the Hadji. “But, mashallah! I should like to be among them again. A few charges like that would annihilate their army.”

Selem, however, urged him not to attempt the manoeuvre, which involved too great a risk, without advantage, to his valuable life. However, the Hadji and Selem were every where to be seen dashing at the foe, then galloping up the steep sides of the glen.