No French girl, waiting for her lover, was ever more impatient than I to see the enemy, yet it was my fate never to plough the waters of the Euxine.
In company with the Mahmoudieh, a small Osmanli steam-brig of ten guns, we had left astern the narrow channel of the Hellespont, and the lights of Gallipoli had sunk into haze and darkness on our larboard quarter, as we steamed, but slowly, into the sea of Marmora.
The night, at first, was calm, but intensely dark, yet on we glided—on, on—over the waste of waters, our almost noiseless speed forming a strange contrast to the silence and sleep of the hundreds on board, who were borne forward through the seething foam and whirling water, as the revolving screw urged on the sharp-prowed frigate—an even course before us, a long white wake of froth astern; no light visible, save a faint ray near the binnacle, or that red and dusky gleam which shoots at times upward from the engine-room, when the iron jaws of the hot furnace are unclosed for a moment, and a flash of fiery radiance falls on the mysterious intricacies of the clanking machinery, and on the dark and swarthy visages of the engineer and his mates.
So thought Belton and I, as we trod the deck together, cigar in mouth, while gliding over the darkened waters of the Propontis.
Our coal was becoming scarce, for after an hour the engines almost ceased, and every stitch of canvas she could carry was set upon the vessel; but this was continued only for a time, as before midnight a gale came on, and the sails were rapidly reduced, and we lost sight of the Mahmoudieh, with her crescent and lantern glittering at her foremast-head.
Jack Belton was officer of the watch, and about fifty of our men were on deck in their forage-caps and greatcoats, ready to bear a hand whenever they were required, in working the ship and general deck duty. As he scanned the horizon of the dark sea of Marmora, and saw a peculiar white streak at its utmost verge, Captain Crank swore a few nautical oaths, and bent his piercing solitary eye aloft on every yard and rope and sail, to see, as he said, 'if she drawed properly.'
'What headland is that, now rising like a dark cloud upon our larboard bow?' I inquired, with great suavity, as our skipper was not in a mood to be trifled with.
'Cape St. George—and a d—ned unpleasant place it may prove to us, if the wind shifts, and we find it on our lee,' he answered, in a voice not unlike a growl, as he turned his red and weather-beaten visage to windward. 'How's her head?' he snappishly asked the midshipman of the watch.
'East and by north, sir.'
'Keep her so, and if the wind veers round, call me;' and, with a general scowl round about him, he entered the poop.
As the night waxed older, the seamen, who generally have peculiar and intuitive instincts about the weather—mysterious forebodings which they cannot account for or explain, looked anxiously ahead, as the dark clouds deepened on our ocean path, and the hurrying scud tore the foam from the tops of the lifted billows. The crew seemed restless, and gathered together in whispering groups about the forecastle and lee side of the main deck.
'I think we will have a rough night, sir,' said the middy of the watch, in a low voice, to old Crank, who had come again upon deck.
'And a dangerous one, too,' he answered, adding, to the chief mate, 'let both watches be kept on deck, for I don't think it worth their while to turn in now; double reef the foresail and main-top-sail—quick, Mr. Gasket! Send all the topgallant-yards on deck—handsomely a bit—bravo! Now make all fast, and keep a sharp look out there forward.'
With these words, and a last glance at the compass, in the light of which his red face glowed like a stormy moon, our gallant skipper again descended from the poop and entered his cabin, to consult the chart through the mellowing influence of a glass of stiff brandy grog.
At nine o'clock an order had been given to batten all the port-lids, and ship the dead-lights.
These warnings and precautions detained me long, and somewhat anxiously, on deck, till the bellowing wind and the bitter spray, which showered over the ship like rain, fairly drove me below; but knowing less, or caring less, about the actual risk we ran, after playing chess for an hour or two with Major Catanagh, and hearing some prosy old stories about the Mahrattah war and Bob Clavering of the 5th, I 'turned in,' and wearied by a long day spent in the keen sea-breeze, after a prayer that Laura might be happy though she had deserted me for ever, I was soon fast asleep and dreaming of Sebastopol.
From this comfortable state I was suddenly awakened by a frightful uproar on deck, the bellowing of the wind through the rigging; the creaking of the timbers; the grating and straining of the guns in their lashings; the jarring, swaying, and pitching of the ship, as she rose on one billow, and plunged surging deeply into the dark watery trough of another. The lamp in my cabin swung madly about in its brass slings; at last the crystal globe was clashed to pieces; the light went out, and I was in darkness.
I thought of that dreadful storm in the Euxine, which in the preceding November had nearly destroyed an entire fleet of transports and store-ships, strewing the shores of the Crimea with shattered wrecks and unburied bodies; and with a new sensation of alarm in my heart, I sprang from bed and proceeded to dress; at that moment I heard the excited voice of Jack Belton in the great cabin.
'Gentlemen! gentlemen!' cried he, 'turn out—breakers are ahead! Mac Innon—-Mac Pherson—Major, on deck—on deck, for heaven's sake; the ship will strike in ten minutes!'
The appalling announcement brought every officer from his cabin in such garments as he could grasp and don on the instant; and we hurried to the poop. It was only by clinging to the rail and stanchions that we could retain our footing on the lofty poop, over which the white foam was sweeping. The waist seemed full of water; the strong cordage bent or snapped, and streamed about like whipcord; the foresail, main-topsail, and gib strained and flapped like thunder, for the ship would not obey her helm; four men stood by the wheel, and a chaos of darkness, water, foam, noise, and uproar, were around me; and I had no distinct impression of anything, but that our large ship, borne by the stormy wind and furious current, with all her deck crowded by human beings, was drifting, at the rate of nine knots an hour, towards a line of foam ahead, that marked where the breakers curled on the beach. But what beach—whether it was the classic shore of Roumelia, of Asia Minor, the Isle of Marmora, or the rocks of Coudouri, we knew not, for the binnacle, with its compasses, had been swept away by a wave which made a clean breach over the ship about midnight, sweeping three men away, with the poor middy of the watch.
The black sky was moonless and starless.
I looked upon Major Catanagh, who stood near me shivering, half clad and clinging to a timber-head, his grey hair matted to his face by the drifting spray. Old Duncan was brave as a lion; but he was a husband—he was a father, and from the wild black tumult of the waves that boiled around us—
'His eyes
Were with his heart, and that was far away,'
in a little cottage half buried among roses and woodbine, on the western bank of Loch Lomond, where, at that hour so terrible to him, his poor wife lay perhaps sleepless on her pillow, listening to the wind that soughed round the craigs of Ross Dhu, and thinking of him, with their little ones hushed in dreamless slumber around her. Poor Duncan's softer soul was stirred within him. His face was pale; his eyes were stern and sad; and if his spirit quailed in that awful hour, it was not with fear, for he had faced death on many a field.
Those and those only who have been in such a place, where every wave swept some brave soul into eternity, and where every gust of wind bore the cry of despair and the knell of death, can tell what Catanagh felt; and I read his thoughts rightly, for he turned to me abruptly, and warmly pressing my hand, said,—
'Thank heaven, Allan, that you have none left behind you to love or to regret—none to weep for you! no wife to leave to the starvation of a widow's pension—no puir wee ones to cast upon a cold and faithless world!'
I thought more of Laura than of this thankfulness; and as my heart swelled with the bitter knowledge that my fate might never be regretted, all fear and anxiety died away within it. I became totally indifferent, and felt myself really the only unconcerned spectator present.
Callum Dhu having sprung to my side, threw his strong arm round me, as if to break the force of the waves which every instant flooded the deck; several soldiers followed him, and came crowding on the poop, for as death seemed before us, discipline and etiquette seemed alike to be forgotten.
The rudder chains had given way, and the ship was driving alternately broadside and stern on, towards the line of breakers, above which we could discern the outline of a dark and rocky shore.
'She will strike in ten minutes!' cried one of the mates.
The men became excited, and tumultuous cries ascended from the waist.
'Clew up—cut away the masts—lower the boats!'
Then followed shouts, disputes and struggles for spars, booms, and hen-coops.
'Silence fore and aft—silence!' cried old Crank, through his trumpet; 'boatswain, pipe away the barge and cutter—be ready to lower away the boats, man the pumps, and stand by to cut away the masts the moment she strikes!'
'Be cool, Highlanders—be cool, and fall into your ranks, my lads!' cried Major Catanagh, perceiving that the crowding of the soldiers upon the deck impeded the movements of the seamen; 'fall in here across the main-deck: bugler sound the assembly—sound, my boy.'
Long and loudly blew the little bugle-boy the familiar barrack-yard call, and strangely and wildly, at that terrible moment, it rang upon the roaring wind, which seemed to tear the very notes off at the bugle mouth, and sweep them to leeward with the hissing foam.
'Fall in, my lads—fall in, and keep in order. If the boats can save us, we shall be saved the more readily by being in order to leave the ship. If she splits below us, then we shall die in our ranks like British soldiers, and like our father's sons—hoping everything from a gracious God and fearing nothing. Remember your discipline, my lads, and keep up your hearts—mine has not sunk yet, though like many among you, I have a dear wife and bairns at home in Scotland. Close in, shoulder to shoulder, and remember the glorious example of Seton and his Highlanders in the Birkenhead.'
A faint hurrah responded to this brief speech, and like a dark mass in their soaked great coats, the poor fellows immediately formed in their ranks, four deep across the deck in front of the poop, where they stood in silence and in order awaiting either death or deliverance with that calmness and fortitude for which no soldiers in Europe can surpass our own braves.
I took my place on the left flank, and Callum Dhu was close beside me, with a coil of rope in his hand, and a small hen-coop which he had torn from a part of the ship, and which he defended from all by his drawn bayonet; but not for his own use or safety. Amid all the terrors of that awful night, Callum's whole anxiety was for me. The crews of the boats stood by the davits and hoisting-tackles, ready to lower away on the order being given, though there was little hope of either cutter, dingy, or whale-boat living in such a sea. The well was sounded; and now we began to hear the clank of the pumps, while a group of men stood by the masts ready to cut away everything fore and aft; but the carpenter and his mates were saved that trouble, for just as the huge ship surged broadside on among the white breakers, she gave two fearful lurches—there was a shock that made her vibrate from her trucks to her keel, and snapping like a hazel twig, the strong mainmast, though built of Meniel fir, and cramped with forty iron rings, went by the board with a crash like thunder.
The main-topmast of course, and the fore and mizen-topmasts, with all their debris of yards, ropes, blocks and chain-sheets, came clattering down in ruin and confusion among us, killing two men and wounding others. The shrouds snapped like threads, and then all this wilderness of top-hamper was swept away to leeward, and dashed to shreds upon the rocky shore.
Father Neptune and old Æolus had proved alike inimical to us, and thus in a moment did our once-gallant old frigate become a hideous and hopeless wreck, dismasted, defaced, and bulged upon a coast unknown.
The night was as dark as if we were in the bowels of the earth; yet from the whiteness of the foam that covered all the waves which boiled over the ghastly reef, there came a species of reflected light that revealed the horrors of our situation. The wind still blew furiously in fierce and heavy gusts; drenching us with spray; yet there stood our little band in their ranks, orderly and calm, as if upon parade—brave, firm, and God-fearing men—expecting every instant that the ship would go to pieces!
The fall of the masts and top-hamper greatly eased the Vestal, and she gave no immediate indications of that general breaking up which we had all so much reason to dread.
'Where are we—on what coast?' was the question we asked of each other a hundred times.
'Daylight will show,' was the invariable answer, and watches were impatiently consulted, and the horizon scanned for the first indication of dawn. Some brandy was hoisted up from below; an allowance per man was served round, and, as old Crank said, 'Never was a raw nip more welcome.'
As the wind lulled on the approach of morning, the sea went down; the spray ceased to deluge the deck, and we all sought our cabins to procure such warm and dry clothing as might have escaped the invasions made by the waves into our premises.
A faint streak that glittered along the far verge of the horizon, marked the quarter of the sky where the sun would appear, and never was its gleam more welcome, for now the storm had completely lulled, and as the ship remained firmly bulged upon the rock, with her lower hold half filled with water, we felt ourselves comparatively safe. An order was given to lower away the boats; and having now fairly escaped the horrors of the shipwreck, we began to look calmly about us.
A flood of saffron light spread over the eastern quarter of the sky; then, radiating like the points of a mighty star, the sun's rays shot upward and played upon the dispersing clouds which turned to deep crimson, and then the sea beneath them seemed to roll in alternate waves of sapphires and rubies, till he rose in all his splendour, and then one long and mighty blaze of dazzling light flashed steadily from the horizon to the shore, filling with a sunny glory all the sea of Marmora.
Now we could perceive the land distant about a mile; the shore was green and fertile; to the eastward rose the towers of an old fortified town, the domes and tall slender minarets of which were glittering in the sun. A little lower down lay a promontory covered with ruins. To the westward was a cape, under the lee of which were a number of Levantine craft with long lateen-yards that tapered away aloft, and their striped or brown shoulder-of-mutton sails, creeping out from the creeks and inlets where they had found shelter during the squall of the past night.
The carpenter reported, that without powerful assistance, there was no possibility of getting the ship off, and as no British, French, or Sardinian steamer was in sight, Crank stamped about the deck in a high state of mental excitement and irritation, while fear of Greek pirates and Natolian robbers, whose armed boats are ever on the prowl in these seas, made Catanagh, at his suggestion, order our men to accoutre and parade with their arms and ammunition on deck, where an inspection was made, and our two hundred Highlanders were found to be in complete fighting order.
'What say you now, Captain?' asked Catanagh; 'do you know the coast?'
'Only too well, Major—it is Roumelia, and we are in the gulf of Salonica.'
'That town on the promontory—'
'Is Heraclea, with the ruins of some old devilish Greek place close by.'
'Then we are on classic ground?'
'Damned deal too classic for my taste!' grumbled Crank; 'we are ashore, sir, on the Palegrossa rocks.'
'Is there a Turkish garrison in Heraclea?'
'Undoubtedly, for there is a population of about seven thousand—principally fishermen—and the town is fortified.'
'All right—let me get my men ashore, and we shall march in. The officer commanding must find us quarters. I long to stretch my legs on dry land again.'
Old Crank proved right; we were really wrecked upon those dangerous rocks which lie about the two little isles of Venetica, in the Bay of Salonica, about ninety miles from the mouth of the Dardanelles, and fifty from Constantinople, by the coast road.
A careful inspection of the Vestal proved that our carpenter's idea of getting her safely off, under any circumstances, was quite impracticable. She was firmly wedged and bulged between two masses of rock, and was so seriously injured that even were steam power procured sufficient to drag her into deep water, she would instantly sink. Thus all hope of preserving the shattered hull of our old donkey-frigate was abandoned; and as the sea was now calm, and she might be some weeks of going to pieces, we prepared to hoist up the battery guns, the ship's carronades, the stores, &c., and make other arrangements for disembarking by the boats with all due order and regularity.
Our men were paraded on deck, accoutred in heavy marching order, with their knapsacks, wooden canteens, greatcoats, and haversacks. The luggage, spare arm-chests, and squad-bags, were all brought up from below, and everything in the form of stores, clothing, and articles of value, were prepared for landing. Captain Crank, with Major Catanagh and an interpreter, were pulled ashore in the pinnace, with a well-armed crew, to make arrangements with the Turkish authorities for our reception and transmission to Constantinople.
With considerable interest—if not with some anxiety—we watched them and the pinnace disappear round a wooded promontory; and evening had almost deepened on the land and sea before they returned with intelligence that they had despatched tidings of our situation to the officer commanding at Scutari, and had made arrangements with Mir Alai Said, a Turkish colonel, who commanded in Heraclea, to afford us quarters in the barrack of that town.
We passed that night in the wreck. She was firm and motionless as the rocks on which she lay; but the occasional surging of the sea against her shattered sides, and the gurgling of the water, as it ebbed and flowed in the lower hold, together with the natural fear that some portion of her might give way in the night, kept us all anxious and wakeful; though Jack Belton was the life of our little party, and favoured us with his usual ditty—
'To be sad about trifles is trifling and folly,
Since the chief end of life is to live and be jolly.'
Though, like myself, he had only his pay, Jack was the most heedless of all heedless fellows. His father had been ruined, or nearly so, by a plea which had been before the Scottish Lords of Council and Session for the last fifty years; and which, in the hands of an able advocate and sharp-practising agent, like our friend the late-lamented Snaggs, bade fair to go on for another half century.
We idled away the chilly hours, muffled in our cloaks, regimental plaids, and paletots or bernous, à la Bedouin, over cigars, wine, and brandy-and-water, singing songs, telling stories, and practising the Highland feat of sheathing and unsheathing the claymore with both hands turned outwards, and playing other pranks, till again the bright sun of Asia shone upon the sea of Marmora, and after tiffin of biscuit, brandy, and junk, we paraded, to disembark upon the old historic shore of Roumelia.
I went off in the first boat with Mac Pherson (the captain of our Light Company), Jack Belton, Callum Dhu, and about thirty privates. We pulled away clear of the wreck into blue water, and then steered towards the shore, where three Turkish officers, on horseback, were waiting to receive us. After pulling for more than a mile through a sea which shone like burnished gold, and the transparent waves of which enabled us to perceive, at a vast depth below, the rank luxuriance of its dark green weeds, spreading their broad and tremulous leaves over a bed of snow-white sand, we reached the point indicated by Captain Crank as our landing-place. It was a rough and barren part of the coast, where the rocks were piled over each other in confusion, with a coarse bulbous plant, like a crocus, which spread its crooked leaves between the gaping interstices of the stones. No bushes or trees were there; but there were vultures, storks, and cranes, that hovered over the ruins of an old Roman wall, and flapped their wings upon the prostrate columns of a Corinthian temple, that lay half-merged among the waters of the encroaching sea.
As our boat grounded, the three Turkish officers—each of whom wore the scarlet fez (which is named from the city of Fez), with its gold military button, the tight blue surtout, and crooked sabre, which make up the invariable costume of all in the service of the Sultan—brought their horses near, and as we sprang ashore, accorded to us the usual military salute; and one—a lieutenant—in very tolerable French, bade us welcome to the land of the Osmanli.
Mir Alai Said and the Mulazim (i.e., lieutenant) Ahmed were both handsome men, with keen Asiatic features, and dark eyes that glittered with somewhat of the cunning expression peculiar to all of Oriental blood; but the third, of whom the reader will hear more in future chapters, the Hadjee Hussein Ebn al Ajuz, was a Yuze Bashi, or captain of artillery, and wore the blue uniform, gold epaulettes, and laced belt and trousers of the corps of Bombardiers. He was a punchy, shaggy-browed, solemn, stately, and sulky-looking old Turk, with a heavy grizzled moustache; a skin of the hue of mahogany, and an eye that seemed to be for ever watching you, and you only. Besides, he spoke a little absurd broken English, which he picked up at Acre, during the war against Mehemet Ali.
While our men were scrambling ashore from the boats, as each in succession came in and grounded, we asked the Mir Alai what were the news from the seat of war?
'We have fought a brave battle on the Ingour,' replied the colonel, rather haughtily, as it is not the etiquette of the Turkish service for juniors to question a senior. 'Omar Pasha, with 20,000 Osmanlis, crossed the river in Mingrelia, in the face of a desperate fire of cannon and musketry; and fighting, with the water up to their armpits, stormed the position from 16,000 Russians, whom they forced to retreat.'
'And the Czar, whom God confound, has left the Crimea,' added the fat Captain Hussein Ebn al Ajuz; 'may the Prophet burn the Russian liars, who eat blood and swine's-flesh, and take usury! May he transform their young men into apes, and their old ones into swine, as he did those who, of old, offered incense to idols!'
'Amaum! Amaum!' muttered the other two, under their thick moustaches.
Mac Pherson, who had served long in India, retained his gravity; but Belton, on catching a twinkle of my eye, laughed aloud at these quaint expressions of hatred, which were uttered in a strong jargon of Turkish and queer French.
'And Kars—does it still hold out?'
'Mashallah! have you not heard?' they exclaimed.
'No—we have been at sea.'
'Kars is valueless as the cleft of a date-stone!' said the Mir Alai.
'Then it has fallen!' we exclaimed together.
'It capitulated through famine to that dog and son of a dog, Mouravieff. The garrison of the brave Ingleez Pasha marched out with the honours of war, and delivered themselves up to the Russians as prisoners; thus 8,000 true Believers are detained; but a number of militia-men have been liberated by Mouravieff, who found in the city one hundred and thirty pieces of cannon.'
'And Sebastopol?'
'Still holds out manfully and desperately,' said the Mir Alai; 'but what do I see?—women coming ashore—and, oh, Mohammed! without the vestige of a yashmack to cover their faces.'
'Your soldiers,' said the Yuze Bashi, 'are kilted like Arnaouts, and all giant in stature as Og the son of Anak. Your Mir Alai says he has two hundred of them—how many wives have they?'
'Four,' said I.
'Four!' reiterated the Mir Alai; 'O, Mohammed! what do we hear?'
'Our government permitted only two women per company in the transport.'
'Four wives for two hundred men!' exclaimed the punchy old Yuze Bashi of the Bombardiers, turning up his round black eyes in wonderment, and gathering the most peculiar ideas from my words; 'one wife for fifty men! It is enough to make every hair in the beards of the seventy imaums stand on end with astonishment!'
'Hush,' whispered the Mir Alai, in a tone of rebuke; 'beware what you say, Hussein; they have come to fight with us against the Muscovites, and may the Prophet—he who knoweth all things—shed a ray of light upon the darkness of their souls!'
'Amaum!' mumbled the lieutenant, who, as in duty bound, applauded all that the Mir Alai said; 'but oh, Allah! only two wives per company!'