Year: 1877

---aal~-~on--un--


THE NIGHT AFTER PLEVNA.


Vivid Pen Picture Of Scenes on the |


Battle Field.


LendOn Nows.l


BUCHAREST. Augusta.


1t was the evening of the battle !
of Plevna. The sun was going
down behind the smoke-mantled |
nights in a glow of lurid crimson.
The dusk was fast settling on one
Of the blOodiest battle-felds of the
century-closing in round the bat
teries, whose guns were still firing
round detached parties of Russian
soldiers, who were doggedly main
tanning the fight against the
swarms of Turks, who formed
ring around them, firing fiercely
into their midst, round the dead
and the wounded lying thick on
the stubbles, on the grassy slopes,
in the hollows among the maize
plants and the oak copses, round
the knots of wounded who had
crawled for cover to the leeside of
the grain stacks on the fields, and
who lay there in the unspeakable
agony of waiting for the inevitable
doom which they knew too well
was to befall them, round the
group Of miscreantS tramping
about the battlefield intent upon
wreaking that doom on the defense
less wounded, and stopping ever
and anon to perpetrate some bar
barity. Prince Schackoskoy and
his staff stood on the summit of
the ridge above the village of Rad
isova, which was crammed with
wounded men. The fate of the
battle had hung in the scale for
some time, but now all hope of
success had gone. There was no
reserve among us in the acknowl-
edgment that the attack had been
failure; all the concern now was
to do whatever was possible toward
minimizing the results of that fail
ure. There was no CONVEX
sation; mems hearts were too
heavy for talk. We sat about
on the knoll, gazing down into the
pandemonium below. The general,
alone and apart, paced up and down
a little open space in the oak copse,
gloom settled on his face. All
around us the air was heavy with
the low moaning of the wounded,
who, having limped or been aided
thus far out of the fight, had cast
themselves down to gain a little
relief from the agony of motion.
There was net even water for them,
for Radisovo is all but a waterless
village, and what water trickled in
a tiny rill from the fountain behind
the village was struggled for eagerly
by the parched and fevered wounded
who crowded around it, coveting
with longing, the agony of which
the reader can never know, a few
drops Of the precious fluid. / can
not tell when / most respect and
admire the simple, honest Russian
soldier r-whether when he is plod-
ding along without a ,murmur yerst
after verst, under burden Just
double in weight that which our
soldiers carry, cheering the way as
he tramps with a lus5y chorus; or,
when, with cheers that ring with
sincerity, and with an alacrity which
is genuine, he presses forward into
the battle; or when he is standing
stubbornly confronting his enemy, |
conscious Of being over-matched, |
yet never dreaming OF running
away; or when he is lying wounded |
but uncomplaining, helping his
neighbor in the same plight with
some trifling act of tender kind
ness, and waiting for what God and
the Gar shall send him, with Il
patient, unmurmuring call that is
surely true heroism.


The darkness closed in around
us, and the enemy seemed bent on
following the example of the dark. |
ness. We had been on this ridge
for a long time, beyond the range
Of the enemy's batteries; but now
these were advanced; and we were
once more under fire. Through
the darkness we could see the
flashes of the cannon shots-they
must be back now in the position
on the knoll below-the position
where four hours ago the Russian
soldiers had charged home with the
bayonet, and whence two hours ago
the Russian cannon had been firing. !
A second more, and nearer and
nearer came the whistle of the
shells, with a swiftly gradual cre-
scendo into scream as they sped
over us and crashed down into the
village in the valley behind us; and
yet nearer there was the flashing Of
the musketry fire in the darkness;
one could watch the streaks of
flame iore-shortened down in the