It is very well known that there are many who deny that Russia was moved by any high sense of honor, or driven by righteous and outraged Christian sentiment to draw the sword for the deliverance of Bulgaria and the punishment of the unspeakable Turk. They affirm her to be governed entirely by self-interest, and that under the garb of zeal for her distressed co-religionists she seeks to conceal her purposes of self-aggrandizement. Russia has been the persistent and bitter foe of Turkey for three hundred years, and Turkey of Russia.
Only once in all that time (1833) did Russia stretch out her hand to aid the Turk, and for reward she received the free navigation of the Dardanelles and the Bosphorus for a series of years. She has fought the Turk single-handed and alone: she has fought him when he has had Poland and the Tartars for his allies: when Venice and Austria and Hungary fought under his banners: when Italy and France were his allies: when England, France and Sardinia united to help him in the Crimea.
Whatever her motives Russia has always been true to herself, and consistent in her hatred of the Turk. It may be that she has dreams of an empire ruled from Constantinople as a Winter Capital; but whatever her dreams or purposes, no nation has less claim to rule over the ancient Byzantine Empire than the alien race of the Ottoman Turks--fanatical followers of the prophet.
The Russo-Turkish war, while but a brief campaign, was from its beginning to the treaty of San Stefano a war for religious life and freedom and singularly free from death or insult to civilian or woman, while abounding in thrilling and dramatic incident.
On the Russian side the preparations for war had been carried on with much secrecy, headquarters being at Kischeneff in Bessarabia. The greater part of the army had been distributed throughout the provinces in comfortable winter quarters, and were in excellent health and spirits. Early in April the soldiers began swarming towards Kischeneff for the Grand Review and the expected declaration of war. The city had put on its holiday attire, flags and streamers were flying from the houses, and there was the greatest excitement among the people and the soldiers as they waited the arrival of the Emperor. The Review was to be no dress parade, but the serious prelude to war. It was all the more impressive therefore, as early on the morning of April 24th, 1877, the army corps began to gather on the broad plains and sloping hillsides above the town. The troops were already under arms by nine o'clock, standing in lone lines and solid masses, silent and almost motionless as for an hour and a half, they waited the arrival of the Emperor. The crowd, too, of onlookers were serious, and spoke in hushed voices, for these splendid troops were soon to be hurled against the fortification of Plevna only to be shattered, broken, decimated. Only when the Emperor appeared mounted, accompanied by his brother the Grand Duke Nicholas and an immense staff of a hundred officers and rode slowly along the lines, was the silence broken by the sound of music and the cheering of the soldiers.