The Circassian Chief: A Romance of Russia

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by William Henry Giles Kingston

owned the fastesthorses, and fought his way up to his father's side, shielding him fromthe many blows aimed at him, and regardless of those he himselfreceived. Desperately did he strive to keep his foes at bay until hisfriends could come to his relief.

  The old chief was saved; but at what a sacrifice! The blood flowed fromAlp's side; his eyes grew dim; his head giddy; he could not see longerto guard off the blows of his enemies.

  Selem, at the head of his brave troop, as he saw the predicament of hisfriends, charged the foe furiously, cutting down all who opposed him, ordrove them off till he reached the Hadji, who shouted his thanks as thelast Cossack disappeared between him and his rescuers. But why does Alpnot advance? Oh! Allah! where is he? Alas! behold him now welteringin his blood beneath his horse's hoofs. Gasping out his last breath, hethanks Allah that he has saved his father. He pronounced, too, hisloved Zara's name. He is lifted on his horse; but his pulse has ceasedto beat. The young warrior is no more. The old Hadji seems like someaged oak scathed by lightning. He hears not the shouts of thecombatants. His own voice is stilled. He knows not where they leadhim. One thing alone he sees--his noble, gallant boy a corpse by hisside. He mourns that he yet lives while the young and the brave havefallen.

  The main body of the Circassians, now arriving, set furiously on theCossacks, whom they drove before them; but, pursuing them too eagerly,they again found themselves exposed to the deadly fire from the town,showers of grape falling among them, and cutting through their rankswith deadly effect. Thus once more they were compelled to retreat. TheRussian infantry then marched out to support the cavalry, now againfollowing the Circassians, who, whenever the Russians approached nearenough, would suddenly wheel and charge them, thinning their ranks, anddriving them to a distance.

  In this hazardous style of fighting, Thaddeus had much distinguishedhimself, as well as in the principal charge, which he had made by theside of Selem to the rescue of the Hadji. As they approached theKouban, their own infantry coming up, the Cossacks took to flight, andwere pursued with considerable slaughter; but though it had been a dayof victory, it had been a disastrous and dearly bought one to theCircassians; many of their chiefs, and a great number of their followershaving fallen by the destructive fire of grape, which had played on themfrom the batteries; though, in comparison, they had lost but few men intheir encounter with the Cossacks; so superior are they in horsemanshipand the use of their arms.

  Arslan Gherrei rode up to the side of his brother chieftain and oldfriend, to endeavour to offer some consolation.

  "Nay, nay, my friend," said the veteran warrior, "I mourn not for myson. Allah is merciful, and has sent him to Paradise in the midst ofvictory. And what nobler fate could I wish for him? I would that I toohad died with him! For what was he born? For what have I bred him up awarrior, but to die for his country? There will be weeping and wailingenough among the women when he is brought home. Alas! for his bride!her heart will break. And his mother! It is a sad day for them. ButI!--no, I cannot mourn! My heart's feelings have long since been driedup. I grieve not for his loss."

  The low husky voice, the contracted brow, and expanded, but tearless eyeof the old chief, sadly belied his words. He spoke no more as he rodeon, except to issue some short orders to those of his followers whoremained alive. His thoughts were hidden in his own breast; but therewas an expression of concentrated agony in his stern features, whichshewed too well that a father's feelings were working strongly withinhim. Near him rode his squire, guiding the horse which bore the youngwarrior's body and arms; and every now and then the father would cast aglance full of deep meaning towards it.

  The army encamped that night on the same spot they had occupied on theprevious one; stationing, however, picquets to give timely warning incase their enemies should attempt to follow. The Russians, however, hadreceived that day a sufficient lesson to learn that the Circassians werefoes not to be trifled with.

  That night, no minstrels tuned their harps round the watch-fires; nordid the warriors indulge in tales of their exploits; but, as soon as thehorses were sheltered and fed, and they had partaken of their own frugalfare, wrapping themselves in their cloaks, they snatched a few hours'repose after the fatigues of the day.

  As Selem, who took his place at the fire near which the Hadji had thrownhimself on the ground, watched the old warrior, he saw many a convulsivethrob pass over his frame. Then he would start up, and sit gazing onthe burning embers, his thoughts doubtlessly resting on his slaughteredson, his white hair streaming over his stern and wrinkled brow, withmouth firmly set, and his hands clutching his snowy and flowing beard.He might have been compared to some aged oak, whose trunk had beenscorched and riven by the lightning's forked flash, yet refusing to bendbeneath the tempest's power. A true patriot's motto is, "I may break,but bend not."

  Volume 3, Chapter XIV.

  The next morning, as soon as the first streaks of light appeared in theeast, the whole assemblage were on foot, all anxious to return to theirhomes. The division of the booty, an important affair, was firstadjusted; the leaders of the different bands shared according to thenumber of their followers, among whom it was again to be divided; and,as the cattle were driven off by those to whom they were awarded, bydegrees the whole of the force melted away.

  A curious spectacle was presented, as the different bands wended theirway in warlike guise in every direction along the valleys, and up themountain's sides, driving the untractable cattle before them.

  To some, also, were awarded arms and powder, according to theirnecessities. The various other objects of booty, (and among them, a fewCossack prisoners, who were destined for slaves), had been thrown intothe common stock, to be equally distributed.

  The Seraskier, though still treated with the deepest respect by all, wasnow left without an army, except of his own immediate followers, everyman who had composed it considering himself perfectly at liberty to takehis departure when he wished, though equally ready to return, for anyfresh expedition.

  The chiefs parted from their leader with a respectful and affectionatefarewell; he returning to his cottage and his farm, like anotherCincinnatus, to till his land with his own hands.

  A considerable share of the spoils was awarded to Thaddeus, much to hissurprise and satisfaction; and the partition being arranged, he, withSelem, and Arslan Gherrei, prepared to accompany the Hadji in hismournful procession towards his home. Their sad journey was, ofnecessity, as rapid as possible, waiting only at night, to snatch a fewhours' repose, and borrowing fresh horses to proceed. The Hadji'snature seemed changed by the blow he had sustained; before lively, andfull of anecdote and conversation, he now spoke not, nor smiled, andseemed to be dreading the burst of grief and agony, which his arrivalwith the dead body of his son, would cause among those most dear to him.

  As they approached his grounds, the body was taken from the horse, andlaid out on a bier, formed of branches cut from the neighbouring trees,over which a cloak was thrown, and the arms of the deceased placed byhis side. No sooner did the cavalcade appear at a distance, slowlywinding their way down the valley, than the women rushed out to meet andwelcome them on their return from victory. Among the foremost cameZara, eager to clasp her young hero to her arms. The chaplet she hadwoven to crown him fell from her hands; a sad foreboding seized her, andas she saw at a distance, that they bore a bier, her eye wanderedanxiously round for Alp. She missed him from among the horsemen. Shesprang wildly forward.

  "Where is he?" she cried. "Where is my Alp? Why comes he not with you,warriors?" She caught sight of the bier. "Do you bear him therewounded? Oh, speak! Tell me, is he there?"

  "Daughter," said the Hadji, "Allah has taken my son."

  She seemed to hear him not, as she rushed forward. She lifted the cloakfrom the face, before any one could prevent her. She shrieked not; shedid not swoon; but, with a fixed gaze of despair, she stood like amonumental statue, bending over the corpse of her slaughtered husband,as cold and inanimate as he.
r />   At length, she seized a hand; it fell heavily down. She pressed herlips to those cold and lifeless ones, as if to find that breath stillanimated them. She seemed scarcely conscious what death was. It waslong ere she was convinced of the reality; yet no tear escaped her eye,no sob, her heart. Her soft and gentle nature was fearfully changing.

  "Who did this?" she cried. "The savage Urus! well I know their work!Alp, you shall be avenged!" Again she stood silently over the corpse,rigid and immovable. None could find it in their hearts to disturb her,until the mother of the slain youth arrived to bewail, with franticgrief, her loss, joined by the other women of their household. Theircries and shrieks rent the air.

  "My son! my son!" cried the distracted mother, "why hast thou been tornfrom me? Could not some more aged warrior have satisfied our foes? Whyhast thou been cut off in the prime of

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