August 11 (August 23 according to new style) 1877 year is one of the most dramatic and bloody days in Bulgarian history. On this date, the decisive battle at Mount Shipka was fought, which predetermined the outcome of the war and the future of Bulgaria.
During the 3-day fighting, the losses of the Shipchen detachment amounted to 3100 Russian soldiers and officers and 535 Bulgarian militiamen, and the losses of the enemy – to more than 8200 people.
The aim of the Turkish forces of 27,000 regular troops and 34 cannons is to cross the mountain and help Osman Pasha besieged in Pleven. Facing this 27,000-strong army is the newly formed Shipchen detachment, composed of 7,500 Bulgarian militiamen with 27 guns. The fighting began in the early morning of August 9 and continued until August 14. Two days after the start, the decisive battle began, recalls radio "Veliko Tarnovo".
The Turks opened fire on the second and third militia companies, but were unpleasantly surprised. During the night, lieutenant Kisev with 18 archers took a position that turned out to be very successful. Several volleys destroyed the Turkish archers. During this time, the artillery fire continued for nearly two hours, which enabled the Ottoman infantry to get as close as possible to the Shipchen defensive position. The infantrymen and the Circassians charged with wild shouts and roars towards the trenches, but as on previous days they were met with knives and stones.
The miracle happened when, from the ranks of the third company, Major Chelyaev sang the song “Shumi Maritsa” and standing with sword in hand, ignoring the bullets, led the Bulgarian wars to victory. This last-ditch call gives new strength to the militia. The Turks launch a final attack on the singing Bulgarian fighters, who meet them with their last shells and cartridges. The corpses of more than 1,380 defenders lie on the rocks. Everyone, including the seriously wounded, is thrown into battle. A superstitious fear grips the Turks when corpses fly towards them.
The Bulgarian defenders do not flinch even at this moment. The Turks stop their attack, and the Bulgarian archers with a powerful “Hurrah” they push them out.
Shipka was saved, and Suleiman Pasha's army failed to join Mehmed Ali Pasha's troops and assist Osman Pasha defending Pleven and together push the Russian Danube Army north of the Danube River.
During the 3-day fighting, the losses of the Shipchen detachment amounted to 3100 Russian soldiers and officers and 535 Bulgarian militiamen, and the losses of the enemy – to more than 8,200 people. The Turks go on the defensive, which is a turning point in the war for the freedom of Bulgaria and foreshadows the future ultimate success.
Ivan Vazov
Shipka
(August 11, 1877)
Let us bear more shame on our foreheads,
whiplash bruises, weight marks;
let memory burn from days of infamy
to hang like a cloud in our horizon;
let him deny us history, the century,
let our name be tragic; let
Belasitsa old and new Batak
into our past they cast their darkness;
let them point at us with scornful insults
broken shackles and pubic scars
on our neck since the old yoke;
let this freedom be a gift to us!
Let. But we know that recently
something new is shining, there is something glorious,
that proudly beats our chests
and in us strong feelings, great fruits;
because it is not there on the top of the mountain,
that the sky blue supports with its shoulders,
some wild, strange peak rises,
covered with white bones and bloody moss
of immortal feat a monument vast;
because there is a memory in the Balkans,
there is one name that lives forever
and in our history as a gray legend,
one name new, great ancient,
like Thermopylae[1] glorious, boundless,
what answer shame gives and washes away,
and the tooth of slander breaks.
Oh Shipka!
Three days young teams
how the passage is defended. The forest valleys
Tremorously repeat the roar.
Terrible seizures! The twelfth time
thick hordes crawling over the raging wild
and bodies litter it, and blood floods it.
Storm after storm! Swarm after swarm!
Suleiman Bezumnii points to the top again
and shouts: “Run! There are the heavens!“
And the hordes leave with angry shouts,
and “Allah!“ thunder split the air.
The top responds with another shout: Hurray!
And with a new rain of bullets, stones and wood;
our teams, splashed with blood,
they fire and repel, without signal, without order,
everyone is only looking to get ahead
and breast heroic to death to expose,
and one more enemy to lay dead.
The gun went out. The Turks roar,
Mounds pour and fall and die; —
They come like tigers, they run like sheep
and they turn again; Bulgarians, Orlovians
as lions run along a terrible redoubt,
they feel no heat, no thirst, no labor.
The assault is desperate, the resistance fierce.
They have been fighting for three days, but no help is coming,
nowhere does the eye see hope
and brotherly eagles do not fly towards them.
Nothing. They will fall, but honestly, without fear —
a handful of Spartans under the influence of Xerxes.
The Talazis are coming; everyone is alert!
The last push has already come.
Then Stoletov, our general,
she roared loudly: “Young soldiers,
wreath Bulgaria with laurel wreaths!
to your strength the king entrusted
the passage, the war and even myself!“
With these words, strong and proud teams
heroically waiting for the hostile hordes
furious and noisy! Oh, hero hour!
The waves find canaries then,
cartridges are missing, but the wills last,
the bayonet breaks — the chest remains
and the sweet joy to a foot to die out
before the whole universe, on that glorious mouth,
with one maiden death and one victory.
„The whole of Bulgaria is now watching,
this peak is high: it will ripen us,
if we were to run: it would be better to die!“
No more weapons! There's a hecatomb[2]!
Every tree is a sword, every stone — bomb,
anything — blow, every soul — fervor.
Stone and wood disappeared there.
„Grab the bodies!“ someone screamed
and corpses dead farted prematurely
cat demons black over a black swarm,
they fall, pile up as if alive again!
And the Turks shuddered, never seen before
the living and the dead fight at once,
and split the air with a demonic cry.
The battle turns to death and bayonet,
our heroes are as hard as rocks
they meet iron with their iron breasts
and toss songs in the fierce felling,
seeing in vain that they are already dying…
But waves newer than hordes of savages
swallow, drown the eagle bravely…
One more moment — the covenant hill will fall.
Suddenly, Radetsky arrived with a bang.
………………………
And today the Balkans too, as soon as a storm hits,
I remember that stormy day, noisy and forward
His glory is as wonderful as some ek
from ruin to ruin and from century to century!
Plovdiv, November 6, 1883
Notes
[1] A narrow passage in Greece where three hundred Spartans led by Leonidas repulsed the Persian king Xerxes. ↑
[2] Ancient Greek. Sacrifice of a hundred bulls.