Zevin
Loris-Melikov had received news from Tergukassov of the Battle of Taghir on June 18; the latter’s despatch had explained the difficulties in which he was placed, and after a Council of War was held it was resolved to advance from the vicinity of Kars to provide some relief. On June 20 Loris-Melikov, leaving Devel to manage the siege of Kars with part of the army, marched off with some 17,000 men. Unlike a number of subordinates, (in particular Heimann), he did not suppose that the operation against Mukhtar’s well-entrenched army would be a walkover. He was well aware of the stream of reinforcements that the Turks had been sending forward, and although he had been in favour of pushing on to Erzerum three weeks earlier, he now realised that the chance of doing so successfully might have gone.
By nightfall on June 22 the army had reached Sarakamish, at the entrance to the mountains. There were two routes that might be followed; to the north, via Bardez, and to the south by Meliduz and Mejingerd. Loris-Melikov opted for the southern route, in order to give the impression that he was aiming for the entrenched camp at Khorassan before swinging to his right to attack Zevin. If in the meanwhile Mukhtar had moved to support the Khorassan position, Loris-Melikov could fall on his flank after taking Zevin. As a plan, this was well enough; but it remained to be seen if the Russian army was strong enough to take Zevin.1
On June 23 the Russians began their painful climb up the mountain. Sappers had been sent forward to prepare the way, but for the artillery it called for a colossal effort:
By yoking eight horses to one piece, and making the soldiers push at the wheels, the passage of the guns was accomplished, but not without much trouble and great fatigue to the men and horses. At last they reached the plateau of Meliduz, which is about half the height of Mont Blanc, and where the cold was very severe. A magnificent panorama was enjoyed from this point, and as far as the eye could reach shone the snow-clad peaks of the range of mountains.2
On June 24 Loris-Melikov decreed a rest day, while he sent forward patrols to examine the Turkish positions. They were quite as strong as he had feared. The natural strength of the terrain, described in Chapter 16, had been utilised with great skill by Mukhtar’s engineers to render it almost impregnable.
The Turkish position effectively barred the main road to the west of the heights from Kars to Erzerum, and lying as it did on the flank of the road to Khorassan it threatened any Russian advance on that line. It extended along the western side of the River Zevin ravine for some five miles south of Zevin itself. The one defect of the position was its length; the inadequate Turkish force available for its defence must necessarily be spread very thinly.3
Although the command was nominally in the hands of Ismail Hakki Pasha, the Governor of Erzerum, it was Faizi Pasha, in the absence of Mukhtar, who was effectively in control of the Turkish army at Zevin, where his task was relatively simple. All he had to do was to sit tight, and allow the Russians to break their heads in vain assaults on his position. It is not entirely clear how many troops he had available, but his strength was put by Williams at 16,000.4 Other estimates put the total at much lower, probably correctly.
On June 25, at 7.00 am, the Russian troops began their advance, pushing forward through extremely difficult and broken country, climbing and descending steep slopes. The baggage and ammunition train was left on the Meliduz plateau, guarded by a battalion with one battery. The assaulting force consisted of fifteen battalions with twenty-four guns. Loris-Melikov detached his cavalry, consisting of six regiments with two batteries, under Prince Tchavtchavadze for a thrust towards Khorassan, in the hope of weakening the Turkish army in the Zevin position or at least diverting all or part of the force with which Mukhtar had beaten Tergukassov. However, he postponed this manoeuvre until the day of the assault on Zevin, which gave the Turks no time to take the bait in any case. As it turned out, the two batteries were unable to traverse the road to Khorassan, so their detachment was wasted, while the Turkish cavalry guarding the place simply withdrew to Kaprikoi. Nothing therefore had been gained by the reduction in strength of the force before Zevin.
At 8.00 am there was a dramatic development, when Loris-Melikov at last received news from Tergukassov, for which he had been waiting for the last two days. It read: ‘Attacked at Taghir by superior forces. I have fought for ten consecutive hours, and maintained my position. Manoeuvre so as to extricate me.’ Loris-Melikov halted the advance while he pondered the situation. Another Council of War was convened. As usual Heimann and the other veterans of wars in the Caucasus were all for launching an immediate assault. Others were not so sure, preferring to put off the attack until the following day. In the face of Tergukassov’s appeal, and in the knowledge that Mukhtar was on his way back to strengthen the garrison, Loris-Melikov reluctantly decided that the assault must go in that day.5
The attackers had arrived in front of the Zevin position at about 11.00 am. The enormity of their task was immediately apparent. The Russian batteries could not get nearer than 5,000 yards to their targets, while the strength of the three tiers of Turkish field works was all too clear. The principal assault was to be undertaken by the centre column, under Major-General Komarov, who led forward the 15th (Tiflis) Regiment, with three battalions of the 14th (Georgian) Regiment and one battery. His task was to cross the steep-sided valley of the River Khani and attack the principal feature of the Turkish position, known as the ‘Yellow Mamelon.’ On Komarov’s right, with orders to support this operation, was the 13th (Erivan) Regiment and three batteries under Major-General Avinov. On the left, the 16th (Mingrelian) Regiment, with one battery, was to cross the River Zevin and assault the left of the Turkish position, which was separated from the centre by a deep ravine.
At 1.00 pm the Russian artillery began its bombardment of the entrenchments, but firing at a great range, and at targets that stood some 1,500 feet higher than the guns, the shells fell at a high angle and did relatively little damage, although a high rate of fire was maintained. On the left the Mingrelian Regiment crossed the ravine of the Zevin and clambered up to the heights to the first line of the Turkish trenches. To Loris-Melikov’s delight, as he watched through his binoculars, they first disappeared into the smoke and then beyond it, having taken the trenches.
Russian wounded being transported in the Caucasus. (Strantz)
In the centre, Komarov’s troops crossed the Khani, forming up on the road at the foot of the heights at the village of Zevin. The first line of Turkish infantry was behind a crest at a bend in the road as the Russians came up:
A magnificent display of discipline was then exhibited. The Russian soldiers advanced in perfect order, without firing a shot, under a tremendous fusillade which had suddenly burst out along the whole Turkish line, to the right, left and in front of them. Arrived within about 200 yards of the trenches the Russians opened fire, and then almost immediately rushed on the enemy with the bayonet. The attack was of brief duration; the Turks hastily fell back, and thus another entrenchment was taken.6
This success, however, represented the high watermark of the Russian assault. The Yellow Mamelon still confronted the Russian troops, and from its first line sharpshooters poured a heavy fire on the attackers, while from either side the Turkish infantry in the trenches opened fire. Nevertheless, the Russian troops did all they could, sometimes using their bayonets as alpenstocks to help them up the steep slopes. So threatening was their advance that at one point a body of Turkish soldiers retreated en masse to a higher trench line. Faizi, however, who was on the spot, ran to them and led them back. For a while the attack hung in the balance. The Russians made no less than ten attempts to gain the crest of the mamelon, but each time they were driven back by the hail of fire from the trenches. The fight went on till after dark and it was only by the light of the moon that Loris-Melikov finally pulled back the exhausted attackers.
Faizi, anxiously watching from the centre, did not at first realise what had happened. It was Baron Schluga, of the Neue Freie Presse, who first spotted the Russian move, and he galloped up to Faizi, shouting ‘The Russians are retreating!’ Faizi, although lacking cavalry that might have been able to pursue the enemy, made the most of his advantage, inflicting heavy loss on the retiring enemy as they fell back down the slopes.
Meanwhile on the right flank the Erivan Regiment had got itself into a dreadful mess. Avinov got a message to send two battalions to the assistance of Komarov, with which he complied; he then received the same message again, and not realising that it was a duplicate sent off two more battalions. This mistake was compounded by further confusion in the commands that reached him, and he crossed and recrossed the river four or five times, uncertain as to his instructions.
During the afternoon there had been no news from Prince Tchavtchavadze as to his movement towards Khorassan. The Mingrelian battalions remained in the positions which they had occupied while awaiting the arrival of the cavalry. It was not until 7.30 pm that Tchavtchavadze was able to push forward parties of dismounted cavalrymen, and these joined the Mingrelian battalion on the hill at the southern end of the Turkish position. Without artillery, however, no further forward movement was possible, and these troops joined the general withdrawal ordered by Loris-Melikov.7 The Russian official casualty reports indicated that 880 officers and men had been killed or wounded. Hozier noted that the Turkish losses having been acknowledged as 138 killed and 1,328 wounded, it was probable that the Russian loss as given was an understatement8. The manner of their advance, and the ferocity of the storm of rifle and artillery fire which they faced, suggests that the Russians did indeed suffer heavily.
Charles Williams, writing on the day after the battle, commented on the improved performance of the Turkish infantry:
Behind breastworks, or in rifle pits, at any rate, the Turks are quite a match for the invader; and after a few weeks of this sort of thing, they will not be far behind them in the open field, though it will be long before they learn to come into action, like the Russians, with such beautiful regularity that, from a parade point of view, old soldiers are struck with admiration. There is just a question, however, whether this machine-like style does not cost a good many lives that a more scrambling system would save. There is no doubt it gives immense confidence to the men, both in themselves and in their officers.9
During the night Mukhtar arrived in the Zevin position with twenty-two battalions, more than doubling the size of the Turkish army there. It was certainly possible for him to launch a counter-attack upon his beaten enemy, but he resolved to continue with his defensive tactics, and did no more than to prepare for a second Russian assault. Heimann urged strongly on Loris-Melikov that he should order this, but the latter, saying that enough brave men had already died in a rash venture, ordered a retreat to rejoin the army around Kars. Remaining in its overnight position throughout June 26, his force fell back first to the Meliduz plateau on the following day and then crossed the Saghanli Dagh. By July 3 it was reunited with the rest of the army.
Camels conveying ammunition to the front. (Ollier)
Mukhtar made no attempt at a close pursuit. On June 30 he advanced from Zevin with twelve battalions, twelve guns and a large part of the cavalry, being followed by Faizi next day with twelve more battalions and twelve guns. He ordered Ismail to take the remainder of the army, comprising twenty-three battalions, 1,500 cavalry and two field and two mountain batteries, and operate on the right wing, keeping in touch with the centre and putting pressure on Tergukassov’s force. Mukhtar resolved now to march to the relief of Kars, reached the Meliduz plateau on July 1, and next day moved through the Meliduz pass, taking advantage of the greatly improved roads which the Russians had left behind. On July 4 he halted at Kirk Bunar, some twenty miles south-east of Kars, to await reinforcements, which arrived two days later. His force now consisted of thirty battalions, and on July 7 he advanced to within seven miles of Kars.
All this time the Russian besiegers of Kars had kept up a heavy bombardment. As Mukhtar approached, the Cossack cavalry screening the siege operations fell back, and on July 8, accompanied by his staff and Sir Arnold Kemball, the Turkish commander in chief was able to ride in to the city. During the day the Russian gunfire began to slacken, and the Turkish outposts suspected that the Russians might be retiring. That night there were large fires in the Russian siege works, and next morning all was quiet. Loris-Melikov had retreated, taking all his stores and equipment, to a position that had previously been prepared at Kuruk-Dere Pass, only a few miles from the frontier, covering the two roads to Alexandropol. Mukhtar, having ordered Kars to be resupplied sufficiently to stand a twelve months’ siege, moved forward to take up a position along the edge of a high plateau, from Visinkoi to Ani, on the River Arpa. This position, like that of his adversary, was soon strongly fortified.10
The Russian retirement had come as a considerable surprise to Mukhtar. The force with which he had advanced from Zevin was no stronger than the Russian force which had been beaten there; the latter, combined with the troops with which Devel had been investing Kars, substantially outnumbered Mukhtar’s army. The retreat had been ordered following instructions from the imperial headquarters on the Danube, where the current success of the operations there made it seem that an adventurous policy in the Caucasus was unnecessary as well as risky.11
There matters remained for some considerable time, the only activity amounting to an occasional cavalry skirmish. On his side Mukhtar was bound by the strictest orders from Constantinople to remain on the defensive. For his part, Loris-Melikov had already realised that his army had bitten off more than it could chew, and in view of the orders received was obliged to await reinforcements before he undertook a further offensive. For the moment he enjoyed the benefit of a much shorter line of communication with his base, at Alexandropol; Mukhtar, on the other hand, had to bring up all his supplies from Erzerum. Nonetheless, in the euphoria which gripped the Turkish headquarters following the Battle of Zevin and the relief of Kars, it seemed to Charles Williams that the victorious progress of the Turks might continue to a remarkable extent:
Turkey can hope for no conquests in Europe – it is even possible that she may lose all control over the provinces north and west of the Balkans; but what if she were able, unaided, to repossess herself of Georgia, and to win Circassia even, across the vast chain of the Caucasus, part of which is before my eyes as I write, which is the nursing mother of all the nations of the West, and which has been described somewhere or other as the natural northern frontier of Islam?12
An encounter between an artist from the Illustrated London News and some Cossacks. (Illustrated London News)
Meanwhile the events at Zevin gave Tergukassov no alternative but to retreat as quickly as he could. Threatened in front by the large force under the command of Ismail, he was already aware that his line of retreat was under threat. A Turkish force of six battalions of regular infantry, with three batteries and some 8,000 Kurdish irregulars, commanded by Faik Pasha, had marched on Bayazid, besieging the small garrison of about 1,600 in the citadel of that place. Unknown to Tergukassov at the time, Bayazid had been the scene of an appalling atrocity. Marching on the town on June 17, Faik’s leading troops encountered an enemy patrol, which fell back on the garrison. That night a small Russian force advanced from Bayazid in the direction from which the Turkish forces had come, only to encounter a very much larger force some ten miles from the city. The Russians retreated, pursued by Kurdish cavalry, leaving behind their wounded. Hozier described what followed:
All these wounded, together with a few prisoners cut off by the Kurds, were remorselessly butchered. With the aid of two field guns the commandants managed for a time to keep the Turks at bay; but Faik sending Munib Pasha, with two battalions and three mountain guns, to occupy a hill about 1,200 yards east of the castle, the Turks were enabled to command the Russian position, and finally rendered it untenable, driving the whole of the garrison within the citadel, and what was of more importance to them, cutting off their supply of water.13
Worse was to follow. The Russian commander, Colonel Kovalevsky, reckoning that the situation was hopeless, sought to negotiate terms of surrender. Agreement was reached, and at 4.00 pm on June 19, the gates were opened and the unarmed garrison began to file out of the citadel between lines of Turkish regular troops. About 200 had left when a large body of Kurdish irregulars rushed on the defenceless men and began a massacre. Neither the Russian officers nor the Turkish regulars could prevent them all being slaughtered; only the hurried shutting of the gates and a brisk fire from the citadel prevented the Kurds from breaking in. Thwarted in this endeavour, the Kurds turned their attention to the unfortunate inhabitants of Bayazid, murdering nearly the whole population of 1,400. Kovalevsky had been killed; his wife, who was still in the citadel, urged the rest of the garrison to resist, taking a rifle to fight alongside the soldiers. The command was taken by Colonel Stokvitch, who proved a reliable and enterprising leader. On June 21 he was able to send messengers to Tergukassov to report what had occurred.
Tergukassov remained in his position on the Koseh Dagh, near Delibaba until June 27, confident that the extensive earthworks which he had constructed there left him safe against attack while he made his preparations to retreat. The Turks soon pursued him, as he fell back through Karakilissa and Dyadin and all the way to Igdir, the other side of the frontier. His progress had been severely hampered by the large number of Armenian families, to whom had been promised the Tsar’s protection, who followed his retreating columns. In the face of the pleas of these unfortunates that they should not be abandoned to the untender mercies of Turkish irregulars, Tergukassov felt obliged to cover their march to Russian territory, and safety, by the vigorous operations of his rearguard. The whole column finally reached Igdir on July 5, having suffered casualties during a difficult and dangerous retreat of only 31 men.14 Preparations were made to turn the force around for a relief march to Bayazid as soon as possible, for which some reinforcement had been sent to Tergukassov.
He set out on July 8, appearing to the north-east of Bayazid at dawn on July 10. The Turkish forces at Faik’s disposal were some three times as strong as those with which Tergukassov advanced, having been reinforced by a brigade under Nakif Bey sent forward by Ismail. Although the Russian cavalry succeeded in cutting off Munib’s retreat from the position he had taken up to rejoin Faik, they could not prevent him from uniting with the approaching brigade of Nakif. Nonetheless a prompt Russian attack soon drove the Turks back with heavy losses; Faik did nothing to assist, and himself rapidly retreated from Bayazid.
Since the beginning of the siege, the garrison had lost 116 men killed and 366 wounded; the survivors were practically all ill, and were swiftly taken back to Russian territory for rehabilitation. Having raised the siege, Tergukassov at once returned with all his sick and wounded, and those of the civilian population who had survived the Kurdish massacre, to Igdir, without further contact with the enemy.15