PLEVNA, THE SULTAN, AND THE PORTE.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 5537, 25 December 1878, Page 3

PLEVNA, THE SULTAN, AND THE PORTE.

(From the Pall Mall Budget.)

Reminiscences of the War iu Turkey. ■ By J, Drew Gay. (London : Chatto and Windue; 1878.)

Besides seeing much that was interesting in the city of Constantinople, where he passed nearly three years —from 1875 to 1878—ras correspondent of the Daily Telegraph, Mr. Drew Gay had several interviews with thd Sultan, and visited Plevna while tho siege was goxug on. He had plenty of materials, then, for the small but in a certain sense very substantial volume in which his experiences of a most eventful period are now set forth. As soon as he joins the army, Mr. Gay performs feats of reckless daring; his audacious disposition being shown not less in the anecdotes he ventures to tell than in the conspicuous positions which he habitually takes up in the presence of the enemy. But this does not diminish tho value of his chapters on the daily life of the Sultan, to whom, by permission, the book is dedicated.

AEter a long and not very apposite oulogium of the Prince of Wales, Mr. Cray points out that tile advantages enjoyed by bis Royal Highness were not within reach ot Abdul Hamid—which is undoubtedly true. Most persons, moreover, will be inclined to agree with him when he observes that the position of Abdul Hamid on ascending the throne was one of great difficulty. However that may be, Mr. Gay is probably right in asserting that, considering how the Sultan was educated—considering that from his earliest infancy he had been confined in a palace; surrounded only by servants and a teacher of religion ; that books of all kinds, except certain religious works, had been denied him ; that he had not made the acquaintance of a single politician or statesman, and that the history of his country was entirely unknown to him—he has done as well as under the circumstances could have been expected of him. Meanwhile, Mr. Gay sees in the Sultan’s personal character and in his daily habits guarantees that when the' opportunity presents itself, and when, in the first place, the country is free from the presence of foreign troops, ho will undertake great things. That Abdul Hamid, instead of being a lunatic, as he was at one time represented to be, is an intelligent, sober, well-in-tentioned man, is entirely credible, if we may trust the account given by Mr. Gay of his ordinary life and of several long conversations with which this fortunate correspondent was honored. The Sultan, like other Orientals, is an early riser. Ho has coffee served to him between six and half-past. At seven he receives his secretary, and at eight he grants an interview—or at least has done so on more than one occasion—to Mr. Gay. Nine is an ordinary hour of meeting for a Council of Ministers ; and whatever the work in hand may be, the Sultan goes on with it until eleven o’clock, when he takes a moderate lunch. Then the Minister’s reports are examined, and public affairs of all kinds are attended to until five, when his Majesty dines—a seat at the table being now and then reserved for Mr. Gay. The dinner, which lasts about an hour, is followed by coffee and conversation with Mr. Gay, who explains the political situation and gives good advice. To such an extent did Mr. Gay find favor in the eyes of “ the Sultan,” “ the Caliph,” “ the Padishah,” “the Commander of the Faithful”— as, in litanioal style, he is turn by turn called—that his Majesty, in addition to receptions and invitations to dinner, granted him a pass for Plevna, at a time when Osman Pasha was positively refusing to admit correspondents. A pass for Plevna was no easy thing to procure, nor, once obtained, was it easy to make use of it. Still more difficult was it, when Plevna had been reached and a certain amount of fighting had been seen, to return to Constantinople along a road which Mr. Gay believes to have been cut from time to time by flying parties of Cossacks, and on which at one place he found a large mass of infantry stationed. It is narrated in the Russian legend of the burning of Moscow that Napoleon, at the head of a large body of troops, was oh the point of marching to the Troitza Monastery, at about forty miles distance, when he desisted on observing that the road was held by an immense army of warriors, dressed like monks, entirely in black. The supernatural troops who guarded the approach to the Troitza, with its countless treasures ot rubies and pearls, had such an effect upon Napoleon’s imagination that he abandoned all idea of attacking the home of so much piety and so much wealth. The masses of Russians, however, who held the road by which Mr. Drew Gay proposed to make his way back from Plevna to Constantinople did not have the effect of disheartening him. Neither foot nor horse could check him ; and the description of the sights he saw in and around Plevna is sufficiently exciting to make his readers thank heaven that at the critical memont—or rather at half a dozen critical moments—his courage did not fail him. As Mr. Gay himself suggests, nothing like the narrative he presents of dangers encountered and escaped is to be found even in the pages of Pennimore Cooper. His story will remind some of Captain Mayne Reid, and a few of the details aro not altogether unworthy of Baron Munchausen. “Every road leads to Homo and Mr. Gay’s journeying in Turkey has brought him several times to a place called Ichtiman, botween Tartar Eazardjik and Sophia, where two or three years ago ho discovered at an inn eight bottles of Chateau Lafitto. The wine was genuine, and it was offered to Mr. Gay at the rate of a shilling a bottle ; but although it was “ some ot the softest and most fragrant wine” ever tasted, he declined to take it, and contented himself with drinking a couple of bottles. Seven months afterwards, returning from the campaign in Servia, he called at Ichtiman and drank two more bottles of his favorite vintage. On his road from Constantinople te Plevna he once more passed through Ichtiman, consumed his usual two bottles, and now informs future travellers along the same road that two bottles yet remain of a wino which, though worth drinking, is apparently not worth carrying away. At Sophia, Ahmed Pasha, an “ancient veteran,” as Mr. Gay calls him, advised him not to continue his journey, and expressed doubts as to whether in case of his doing so he would over reach Osman Pasha, The energetic correspondent “ demanded the reason for these fears,” but could extract nothing from the aged old soldier except a dark hint to the effect that he had better bo very cautious about moving along the road. On reaching ICamarU Mr. Gay was “ received with military honors.” “I also,” he adds, “ received some refreshment. At Orkhanie, in the neighborhood ot Plevna, where Mr. Gay determined to pass the night, the caimakam, hearing ot his approach, “with a gracious smile, and a bow worthy of an- aiderman, not only turned out the guard, but turned out himself, and bade us welcome to his township.” The villagers in the neighborhood of Orkhauie assured Mr. Gay that the Russians had all gone away, so that he holt regretted at having, in his own language, “ sot out to he present at such a fiasco as a more running fight.” A running fight, however, is anything rather than a fiasco to the pursuing side, and Mr. Gay, instead of allowing himself to bo moved by the pugnacious spirit within him, should have rejoiced to think that the Turks, who covered him with decorations, bestowed on him the rank of colonel, and received him with military salutes and refreshments, had their enemy to flight and were following him at; the point of the sword, Damian Pasha is, we are told, “a middleaged gentleman, in appearance somewhat like an English farmer. Ho speaks a little French, understands a little more, but prefers to talk in Turkish when he can.” Apart from the tragic incidents of war, Mr. Gay saw some very strange things at Plevna, Osman Pasha showed him a revolver-ease taken from a dead Russian pfliccr, “ in which thorn was actually a sham wooden model of a pistol—that was all —with ring in the butt-end, nice leather case."

To Mr, Gay this wooden revolver “ spoke volumes.” There is something in the story, all the same, which is not quite intelligible. Nothing is more unlikely than that ; the proprietor, of the curious weapon would never have thought of looking at it until one day, •rather late in the campaign, he had occasion to use it in action. Soon afterwards Mr. Gay found that Russian rifles were so plentiful at Plevna that they could be bought for fivepence or sixpence a piece—which is just possible ; also that Plevna was full of rouble notes, which any one might buy at the rate of threepence halfpenny a rouble. The moment was not a favorable one for speculating in rifles, but Mr. Gay might have made a very profitable investment in rouble notes, which he could have resold at Constantinople for six times their price at Plevna. The manner in which these rouble notes found their way to Plevna is most rcmrrkable. The Russian soldiers, as every one knows, are overburdened with money in various forms. They go into action carrying huge packets of bank notes, and when, after being defeated, they begin to throw away their arms and accoutrements, nothing satifcfies them until, that they may fly the faster, they have unburdened themselves of their piles of paper money. “Tho Muscovites,” says Mr.-Gay, “threw away their paper money as they ran.” Mr. Gay shows himself equal to great emergencies; but in the ordinary business of life he seems wanting in prudence and even common sense. In a country where, as a rule, drinkable wine cannot be obtained at any price, he neglects to carry away from a village inn a few bottles of genuine Chateau Lafitte which had been offered to him at a shilling a bottle. Rouble notes, worth on the St.. Petersburg Exchange nearly 2s, each,‘he refuses to take at 3Jd, Finally, wishing to see a battle, nothing will satisfy him but to exhibit himself to the enemy mounted on a superb whit© horse—the same which he was at one time, as he informs .us, very near selling to General Baker, only the General did not quite like the look of the beast. Mr, Gay’s white horse had of course the effect which its rider had foreseen, of drawing the enemy’s fire; and shells were hurled at him in such numbers that Mr. Gay estimated their value at nothing less than £l5O sterling. This was almost as much as in a military point of view Mr. Gay was worth ; for, though he bore tho title of colonel, and wore spurs, against which he now and then allowed his sword to “ clank,” he cannot be said to have formed part of the fighting force.’ The white horse was several times, wounded—of which wo are informed quite'casually, as though the fact had no importance whatever for the gentleman seated on the animal’s back. Mr. Gay, however, must have been exposed to serious inconvenience while the Russians were concentrating the fire of their batteries upon him ; for, in describing the habits of his invaluable charger, he declares that the sound of artillery made him lie down and roll. Mr. Gay, then, must have * been rolled over a great many times while the Russians were throwing their £l5O worth of shells at him. • •

Mr. Gay’s volume is decidedly interesting. But on some points he shows himself, unduly credulous ; while on others he seems to expect from his readers a readiness of belief which for the most part they will not accord.