As I rode up the slope of the hill east of Plevna towards the redoubt defending the road between the town and the village of Radicheve, a ghastly scene was presented. Hundreds of Russian skeletons lay glistening on the hillsides, where they had fallen during the assault of September. The bones were generally completely bare. Those nearest to the earthwork had been covered with a few inches of earth, which had been washed off by the first shower, and now they lay as naked as the others. The Moslem outpost pits were among these skeletons, many of them not being more than a yard distant. Singular as it may seem, many of these skeletons had distinct expressions, both in the attitude in which they had fallen and in the position of the fleshless jaws. I could distinguish those who had fallen without suffering from those who had died in agony, and the effect was such as I shall never forget. The Russian soldiers who marched into Plevna in the rear of Osman's sallying force passed among these remains of their unburied comrades.... On entering the town I was surprised to find it so little injured by the cannonading.... Within a short time after Osman's surrender at the bridge over the Vid, on the Sofia road, the 16,000 prisoners were turned back into the town, with the artillery and transport trains.... The Turks were well fed in appearance, but were generally ragged, and were all wearing sandals. No boots were to be seen, though most of them had overcoats.... The contrast between these tatterdemalion battalions and the well-dressed men guarding them made the war appear a one-sided affair, until the reflection came that a ragged man shot as well as one perfectly equipped. Later in the day, standing on the Sofia road, in the Gravitza valley west of Plevna, I surveyed the whole basin forming Osman's position. The herbage and all other growing things had so effectually disappeared that the earth's surface looked as if a conflagration had swept over every square foot of it. The colour was a dull brown, and I never gazed upon a more dismal-looking region. The sides of the basin were serried by ravines, all centering in the valley where I stood, and upon the surrounding edges of the basin were the Turkish and Allied batteries planted in irregular line, but commanding every vantage-point of the neighbourhood.... Where the Gravitza _chaussée_ crosses the elevation the Turkish redoubts were weakest, and here the Russian artillery fire had been chiefly concentrated. The front and rear of the earthworks were ploughed up by shells, and in truth there was scarcely a square yard which had not been struck. Thousands of such missiles, varying from 3 inches to 6 inches in diameter, lay unexploded upon the surface of the earth. In a previous telegram I said that these redoubts were battered to pieces; but I now discover that this was a curious error of vision. The works are practically uninjured. So far as the earthworks are