Under the Red Crescent: Adventures of an English Surgeon with the Turkish Army at Plevna and Erzeroum 1877-1878Ryan, Charles S. (Charles Snodgrass)
History
Under the Red Crescent: Adventures of an English Surgeon with the Turkish Army at Plevna and Erzeroum 1877-1878
Ryan, Charles S. (Charles Snodgrass)
Russo-Turkish War, 1877-1878 -- Personal narratives
On the day before we left Erzeroum I called on General Duhoffskoy, as
the military governor of the town, in order to obtain from him a pass
through the Russian lines and the necessary papers authorizing my
departure. The general was a distinguished-looking man of about forty
years of age, and he received me very courteously, expressing polite
regret at my departure, and promising to facilitate my journey as far
as possible. It struck me that I had never seen him in such good
spirits before, and that there was a beam of sunshiny contentment in his
face, which was an agreeable change from the rigid military look of his
usually stern features. As I was inwardly wondering what could have
happened to effect this change, the door opened, and a lady entered the
room. "Permit me to present you to my wife, Dr. Ryan," said the general;
and turning I bowed, there in remote, snow-clad, devastated Erzeroum, to
one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.
Princess Duhoffskoy, _née_ Princess Galitzin, was then about twenty
years of age, and to my youthful imagination, with her beautifully
chiselled features, complexion of exquisite fairness, and large blue
eyes that looked me frankly in the face, she seemed like a visitant from
another world. For a year and a half almost the only specimens of
womanhood that I had seen were squat and swarthy Bulgarian girls, frowsy
Armenians, or Turkish women closely veiled in their yashmaks. It was no
wonder that this lovely Russian, with her delicate, refined beauty and
her frank and gracious manner, made a profound impression upon me, and
set my heart beating quickly with mingled surprise and delight.
The general returned to his writing-table, and I was left to talk to
this beauteous vision alone. I stammered a few remarks in execrable
German; for though I spoke that language fairly fluently on ordinary
occasions, my sensations drove my vocabulary out of my head, and I felt
that for one in my position at any rate the resources of that grave and
elephantine tongue were exasperatingly inadequate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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