“Oh, I say, doctor, that is too strong altogether,” Miller exclaimed indignantly.
“Well, prove it by argument,” the doctor replied calmly. “I am not saying that from our point of view we are not more than justified. I am simply explaining why these Chiots do not feel any extraordinary gratitude to us. We are benefiting them, if they did but know it. We are saving them, body and soul; but that is not the light in which they see it.”
“You are right, doctor,” Mr. Beveridge said. “And now you put it before us, I am really not surprised that these poor creatures do not feel any very lively gratitude. They are fond of ease and comfort, and have been accustomed to it, and to them the utter uncertainty of their life among strangers is not unreasonably more terrible than the prospects of an easy life as a favoured slave in a Turkish household. It is sad that it should be so; but it is human nature. Still, the consideration must not weigh with us in carrying out what we know to be a good work. We have saved in all more than three thousand souls from Turkish slavery, and can only trust that in the long run most of them will recognize the inestimable service we have rendered them.”
“I TELL you what it is, Mr. Beveridge,” the governor said when the latter went up to call as usual upon his arrival at Corfu, “I quite begin to dread the appearance of that smart schooner of yours; during the last five weeks you have added a thousand mouths to my anxieties. What we are to do with all these poor creatures I have not the slightest idea. We can’t go on feeding them for ever; and what with the voluntary fugitives and those brought over to us, there are at present some forty or fifty thousand strangers in the islands, and of these something like half are absolutely dependent on us for the means of living.”
“It is a very difficult problem,” Mr. Beveridge said. “Of course, when the war is over the great proportion of them will return to their homes in Greece; but the fugitives from the Turkish islands and mainland are in a different position. Doubtless, when peace is made, there will be some arrangement by which those families which have men among them can also return to their homes without being molested; but those consisting only of women and children could not do so. Some of the women and girls can find employment in Greek families, and I suppose the rest will finally become absorbed as servants in the towns on the Adriatic.”
“I see nothing else for it, Mr. Beveridge; unless you choose to continue your good work, and transport them in batches across the Atlantic. I believe there is a great dearth of women in Canada and the United States.”
“You will have to set up schools and teach them English first, sir,” Mr. Beveridge laughed, “or they would not be welcomed there. When they can all speak our language I will think over your suggestion.”
“Do you think that Greece ever will be free, Mr. Beveridge?”
“I think so. Certainly I think so. These terrible massacres on both sides seem to render it absolutely impossible that they should return to their former relations. The Turks have not yet made their great effort, and I believe that when they do they will reconquer Greece. But I do not think they will hold it. The hatred between the races is now so bitter that they can never live together in peace; and I believe that the Greeks will continue their resistance so long that Europe at last will come to their assistance, and insist upon a frontier line being drawn. This terrible affair of Chios, dreadful as it is, will tend to that. The Christian feeling of Europe will become more and more excited until, if the governments hold back, the people will force them forward, and England and France at least will, if necessary, intervene by force. I believe that they would do so now were it not for jealousy of Russia. It is Russia who fomented this revolution for her own purposes, and it is solely the fear that she will reap the whole benefit of their action that causes England and France to look on this struggle with folded arms.”
“I fancy you are right, and that that will be the end of it,” the governor said. “I need not say how earnestly I wish the time would come. I can assure you I have a very anxious time of it. What with providing for all these people, what with preventing breaches of neutrality by the Greeks, and what with the calumnies and complaints that the Greeks scatter broadcast against us, I can assure you that my task is not an enviable one.”
“I can quite imagine that. The Greeks make it very hard for their well-wishers to assist them; indeed, if they were bent upon bringing obloquy upon their name they could hardly act otherwise than they are doing. The one man they have hitherto produced who goes his way regardless of intrigue and faction, fighting bravely for the country, is Constantine Kanaris, who has destroyed two Turkish ships with his own hand. A hundred of such men as he is, and Greece would have achieved her independence without foreign assistance; and yet, even in his own ship, he is unable to maintain even a shadow of what we should consider discipline. He himself acknowledged as much to me at Psara.”
“I hear you took him off after he had burned the Turkish war-vessel.”
“Yes; we were lying off the port and saw it. I am glad we were not nearer, for it was a terrible business. It is a barbarous war altogether.”
“Then why do you mix yourself up in it, Mr. Beveridge?”
“My mother was a Greek, and I have always lived in Greek thought rather than in English. I desire not only the independence but the regeneration of the Greeks. They have lost all the virtues of their ancestors save their intelligence; but once free they will, I hope and trust, recover their lost virtues and become, if not a great people—which they can hardly do, their numbers being comparatively so few—at least a worthy one.”
“I hope they may. They certainly have enthusiastic friends. Only a week or two since, a young fellow named Hastings, a lieutenant of our navy, came out. He has a fortune of some seven or eight thousand pounds, which he intends to devote to buying and fitting out a ship for their service. There are scores of English and French officers kicking their heels at Corinth, vainly asking for employment. And I hear they are organizing a corps, composed entirely of foreign officers, who will fight as private soldiers without pay, simply for the purpose of endeavouring to shame the Greeks into a feeling of patriotism.
“Where are you thinking of sailing now? If you have no fixed plans, I should advise you to go round to Athens. They say the Turkish garrison is at the last extremity. I have had a message from the consulate there, asking me to send a British ship of war round to insist upon the conditions of surrender being observed; but unfortunately the insane rage for retrenchment at home has so diminished the strength of our fleet that we haven’t a single ship in these waters at a time like this. I hear that the French consul has also sent urgently asking for ships of war. At any rate, your influence might do something.”
“I fear not,” Mr. Beveridge said gravely. “However, my men and guns might have some weight, and at any rate I will go round at once and do my best. If possible, I am even more anxious to save Turks from massacre by Greeks, than Greeks from massacre by Turks.”
“I can understand that,” the governor said cordially. “Well, I wish you every good fortune, Mr. Beveridge; but I say honestly that I do not wish to see your saucy schooner again unless she comes in with empty decks. Give them a turn at Malta next time, my dear sir, and I shall feel really grateful towards you.”
Four days after leaving Corfu the schooner dropped anchor in the port of Athens. Learning from the first boat that put off to them that the capitulation of the Turks was to be signed on the following morning, Mr. Beveridge determined to land at once, in order that he might see as many of the leading officials as possible, and urge upon them the necessity of preventing any repetition of the breaches of faith which had brought such disgrace to the Greek name.
“I shall take Zaimes with me,” he said to Martyn, “and should I see any signs of an intention upon the part of the populace to commence a massacre of the Turks I will send him off instantly. In that case, Captain Martyn, you will at once land the whole of the crew fully armed, with the exception, say, of five men, and march them to the British consulate in Athens. You know where it is. Take a Greek flag with you, for two reasons; in the first place, if you were to go without it the Greeks would spread the report that the crew of an English ship of war had landed; and in the second place, it may quieten and appease the mob if they see that we are in the service of Greece.”
“Very well, sir, I will carry out your instructions. I don’t think that rascally mob will venture to interfere with us.”
“I hope not, Martyn; but at any rate we must risk that. Any other message I may have to send off to you I shall send by an ordinary messenger; but if you are wanted, I shall trust no one but Zaimes.”
Late in the evening a Greek came off with a letter. All would, Mr. Beveridge hoped, be well. The Turks had agreed to surrender their arms, and the Greeks had bound themselves to convey them to Asia Minor in neutral ships. By the terms of capitulation the Turks were to be allowed to retain one-half of their money and jewels, and one-half of their movable property.
“I have every hope that the treaty will be respected,” Mr. Beveridge wrote. “I am happy to say that the Bishop of Athens, who is a man of high character, and President of the Areopagus, has insisted upon all the civil and military authorities taking a most solemn oath to observe strictly the terms of capitulation, and so far to redeem the good faith of the nation, which has been so deeply stained by the violation of so many previous treaties.”
The next morning the Mussulmans marched out from the Acropolis. Out of the 1150 remaining only 180 were men capable of bearing arms, so stoutly and obstinately had they defended the place, yielding only when the last drop of water in the cisterns was exhausted. They were housed in some extensive buildings in the town. Three days passed quietly. Two ephors, who had been ordered by the Greek government to hasten the embarkation of the Turks, took no steps whatever to do so. On the morning of the fourth day, Horace, who had been twice on shore to see his father, saw a boat rowing off to the ship. He turned a glass upon it and exclaimed:
“There is Zaimes on board that boat, Captain Martyn. I am sure my father would not send him on board unless there is trouble in the town.”
Martyn did not wait for the boat to arrive, but instantly mustered and armed the crew, and the boats were in the water by the time Zaimes arrived alongside. He handed a note to Martyn; it contained only the words:
“Land instantly, they are murdering the Turks.”
With a hearty execration upon the Greeks, Martyn ordered the men to take their places in the boats, and gave his final orders to Tarleton, who was to remain in charge.
“Get all the guns loaded with ball, Mr. Tarleton. For aught I know we may have to fight our way down to the beach. Fire the first shot over their heads. If that does not frighten them, plump the others into them.”
The three boats pushed off, the doctor taking his place by the side of Horace, who was in command of one of them.
“Have you got your instruments, doctor?” Horace asked smiling.
“I have got these instruments,” Macfarlane said, tapping the butts of a heavy pair of pistols. “Just for once I am going as a combatant. I thought there was a limit to everything, but there really doesn’t seem to be any limit to the faithlessness of the Greeks. I should like very much to help to give them a little lesson as to the sanctity of an oath.”
The sailors marched in a compact body from the port to the town. They had been told the errand upon which they had come, and from the pace at which they marched, and the expression of angry determination on their faces, it was evident that they entered thoroughly into the business. They were met at the entrance to the town by Mr. Beveridge.
“It is of no use going to the British consulate,” he said; “there are no English officials there, the place is simply in charge of a Greek, who dare not, if he would, move in the matter. The Turks are taking refuge in the French, Austrian, and Dutch consulates. It is more than doubtful whether the flags will be respected. You had better place say eight men at each, with orders to defend the places till the last if the mob attacks them; while with the rest of the men you can endeavour to escort the fugitive Turks to the consulates. Don’t let the men use their arms till the last extremity, Martyn.”
“Very well, sir. Where will you be?”
“I will go to the French consulate and aid them there in pacifying the mob. My son had better go to one of the others. Harangue them from the windows, Horace; point out to them that they are disgracing Greece in the eyes of all Europe, and implore them not to bring Austria on their backs by insulting her flag. At the same time see that all the lower shutters are barred, and be ready to sally out with your men to bring in any fugitives who may approach.”
“Mr. Miller, do you take eight men to the Dutch consulate,” Martyn said, “and follow the instructions Mr. Beveridge has given to his son.”
“Zaimes shall go with you, Mr. Miller.”
“Thank you, Mr. Beveridge; if he will do the haranguing I will look after the fighting if there is any to be done.”
The three parties, each of eight men, at once started for the consulates. Martyn waited till they had gone, and then turned to the remainder. “Boatswain, you take ten men and go one way, I will go another way with the rest. You heard Mr. Beveridge’s instructions, that the men were not to use their arms unless absolutely attacked. At the same time, if you come upon any of the Greeks engaged in murdering women and children you will remember there are no orders against your using your hands, and that there are windows as well as doors by which a Greek can be made to leave a house.”
“Ay, ay, sir!” Tom Burdett replied with a grin; “we will be as gentle with them as possible.”
Martyn had provided several small Greek flags which had been fastened to boat-hooks, and each party, taking one of these, proceeded on its way. They had gone but a little distance when shrieks and cries were heard, and, bursting into the houses from which they proceeded, the sailors came upon Greeks engaged in the diabolical work of torturing women and children. With a cheer they fell upon them, striking right and left with their fists, and levelling the astonished Greeks to the ground. Then the Turks were placed safely in their midst, and with a few hearty kicks at the prostrate ruffians they marched out. The scene was repeated again and again; the punishment inflicted upon the Greeks being more and more severe each time.
When some twenty fugitives had been collected they were marched through a yelling rabble to one or other of the consulates, to which a large number of fugitives had made their way when the massacre began. Several times the leaders of both bands had to call upon their men to present arms, the mob falling back and flying the moment they did so. After a time the two bands joined, Martyn considering it imprudent to venture out among the enraged populace in smaller force. The aspect of the crowd became more and more threatening, but it still confined itself to execrations and curses, being overawed by the determined attitude of the men with their muskets, cutlasses, and pistols, and with the apparent fact that the sailors were only prevented from using their arms by the exertions of the two officers, for the doctor kept close by Martyn’s side. At two o’clock the boom of a cannon was heard from the port; again and again it sounded at regular intervals.
“That is a ship of war saluting,” Martyn said.
The crowd fell away rapidly, many of them hurrying down to the port, and Martyn, taking advantage of it, was able to bring in a good many more fugitives to the consulates, the sailors from within rushing out when they approached, and clearing the way through the crowd with the vigorous use of their elbows and sometimes of their fists.
“We shall have help up soon,” Mr. Beveridge said, the first time Martyn brought in a party of fugitives after the guns fired.
An hour later a strong party of French sailors and marines with loaded muskets and fixed bayonets marched up to the French consulate from two French vessels, a corvette and a schooner, which had come from Syra in response to the consul’s earnest appeals for assistance. They placed in their midst three hundred and twenty-five Turkish fugitives who had found refuge there, escorted them down to the port, and placed them on board their ships. On the way they were surrounded by a menacing crowd of Greek soldiers and by a great mob, yelling, shouting, and brandishing their arms; but their valour went no further, and the fugitives were taken off in safety. The sailors of the Misericordia were now divided between the Austrian and Dutch consulates, and their appearance at the windows with loaded muskets intimidated the mob from making an attack. During the night the bishop and some of the better class exerted themselves to the utmost in calming the passions of the mob; and they themselves in the morning accompanied the crew of the Misericordia, who, guarding the fugitives, were allowed to proceed down to the port and embark on board the schooner without molestation from the people. Some seven hundred and fifty persons were saved by the French and the crew of the schooner. Four hundred were massacred in cold blood by the Greeks.
The French vessels had sailed away during the night, and the question arose what was to be done with the rescued Turks. Of these there were some forty soldiers, ten or twelve Turks of superior rank, military and civil officials; the rest were women and children. Two or three of the Turks spoke Italian, and four or five of them Greek. Mr. Beveridge held a consultation with these, and it was finally agreed that they should be landed at the Isle of Tenedos close to the mouth of the Dardanelles, as from thence they would have no difficulty in making their way to Constantinople.
“If there are no ships of war in the port we will hoist the white flag and sail straight in; but if there are, we must land you in the boats somewhere on the island. We have been in action with your ships of war and would at once be recognized, and the white flag would not be respected.”
“We owe you our lives, sir, and the lives of all these women and children,” a bimbashi or major of the Turkish garrison, a fine soldierly-looking man, said earnestly; “for had it not been for you and your brave crew even the flags of the consulates would not have sufficed to protect us. Assuredly my countrymen would never fire at you when engaged in such a work of mercy.”
“They might not in cold blood,” Mr. Beveridge said; “but we have just been saving Chiot prisoners as cruelly treated, and for every Turk who has been massacred in Athens, well-nigh a hundred Chiots have been murdered. I do not defend them for breaking their pledged faith to you, but one cannot be surprised at their savage thirst for vengeance.”
Martyn had got up the anchor and set sail on the schooner directly the fugitives were on board, and as soon as he learned that Tenedos was their destination her course was laid north. Then came the work, to which they were now becoming accustomed, of stowing away the unfortunate passengers. The screened partition was allotted to the women and children of the officers and officials, most of whose husbands had fallen during the siege, and the rest of the women and children were stowed down on the main-deck, while the male passengers stayed on deck, where the women remained for the most part during the day. Those who had been rescued from the hands of the Greeks had been plundered of everything; but those who had at the first alarm fled to the consulates had carried with them jewels and money. The women of the upper class were all closely veiled, but the rest made but little attempt to conceal their faces, and all evinced the deepest gratitude to the crew of the schooner; murmuring their thanks whenever an officer or sailor passed near them, and trying to seize their hands and press them to their foreheads.
The fugitives of the upper class, both men and women, were more restrained, but there was no mistaking the expression with which their eyes followed their protectors. Many of the women and children were worn out with the sufferings they had sustained during the last days of the siege, and some of the soldiers were so weak as to be scarce able to stand. The doctor attended to many of the children, while the Greeks and the ship’s cook were kept busy all day in preparing nourishing soups. The next day they were off Tenedos. No Turkish ship of war was lying near the town. A boat was lowered, and Miller, accompanied by Horace as interpreter, took his place in her with one of the Turkish officers. A white flag was hoisted in her stern, and six men rowed her ashore.
Their movements had been watched, and a body of Turkish soldiers were drawn up at the landing-place with several officials. The Turkish officer mounted the steps and explained to the governor of the island, who was among those at the landing-stage, the purpose for which the Misericordia had arrived at the port. There was a rapid conversation as the officer, frequently interrupted by exclamations of indignation, and questions from the Turks, narrated what had taken place. Then the governor and his officers ran forward, seized Miller and Horace by the hand, patted them on the shoulder with the liveliest demonstrations of gratitude and friendship. The Turk who had come ashore with them translated to Horace, in Greek, the governor’s earnest request that the owner of the ship and his officers would come ashore to visit him.
“The governor says that he himself would at once come off to visit the ship and return his thanks, but that, as she is flying the Greek flag, he cannot do so, much as he desires it; but that if the flag were lowered, and a white flag substituted, he would come off instantly. He has heard of the fight between the Greek ship with an English crew and the boats of the Turkish fleet, and of the many craft she has taken and destroyed, always sparing the crews and sending them ashore, and he has great esteem for so brave an enemy; now he cannot view them but as friends after their noble rescue of so many of his countrymen and women and children.”
Horace in reply said that he would give the governor’s message to his father, and that the fugitives should at once be landed.
“Do you think that he really meant that he would come on board if we hoisted the white flag, Horace?”
“I think so, father. He and the officers with him certainly seemed thoroughly in earnest. What do you think, Martyn? There can be no objection to our lowering the Greek flag, I should think, while acting as a neutral.”
“I should think not,” Martyn said, “and I should not care a snap of the fingers if there was. The Greek flag is all well enough, Mr. Beveridge, when we see an armed Turk of superior size in sight, but at other times I don’t feel proud of it.”
“We will lower it down then, Martyn.”
The Greek flag was lowered from the peak and a white one run up. Then the work of debarkation commenced, the Turks insisting upon shaking hands with Mr. Beveridge and the officers, thanking them in the most fervent way, and calling down the blessing of Allah upon them; while the women, many of them weeping, threw themselves on their knees and poured out their thanks, some of them holding up their infants to gaze on the faces of those to whom they owed their lives. The sailors came in for their share of thanks, and were quite embarrassed by the warmth with which they were greeted. Just as the first batch left the ship, a large boat flying the Turkish flag was seen putting out from the shore, and in a few minutes the governor with seven or eight civil and military officials came on board.
They brought with them a merchant who spoke English to act as interpreter. Martyn drew up the whole of the crew who were not engaged in boat service as a guard of honour to receive them, while he, with Mr. Beveridge, met the governor as he mounted the gangway. The governor, who was a tall and dignified Turk, expressed to them his warmest thanks in the name of the Sultan for the rescue of so many of his subjects from the fury of the populace of Athens. Mr. Beveridge, through the interpreter, explained to the pasha that, although an Englishman he had Greek blood in his veins, and had therefore joined them in their attempt to achieve independence, and was prepared to fight on their side but that, as an Englishman, he revolted against the barbarity with which the war was carried on by both combatants; that his vessel was named the Misericordia, and that while he had saved a great number of Christian fugitives on the one side, he was equally ready and pleased at being able to render the same service to Mussulman fugitives on the other side.
THE GOVERNOR COMES ON BOARD
“Your errand is a noble and merciful one,” the Turk said, “and must have the approval of Allah as well as of the God of the Christians. We have heard of your terrible vessel, how she destroyed a frigate off Cyprus, beat off the boats of our fleet at Chios, and played havoc among the shipping from Smyrna. We knew her when we saw her, for we had heard of her white sails and tall masts; but we had heard too that no prisoner was injured by you. I never thought to set foot on the deck of the ship that had become the dread of the traders of Smyrna and other ports, but I am glad to do so since those who sail her, although our enemies in battle, have proved themselves indeed our friends in the time of distress.”
When this had been translated, Mr. Beveridge invited the governor and his companions into the cabin, where coffee and chibouks were served; then they were conducted round the ship. The governor conversed for some little time with two or three of the principal Turks from Athens, and learned the full details of the surrender and the subsequent events as he watched the debarkation of the fugitives; and then, after obtaining a promise from Mr. Beveridge that he and his officers would come on shore at sunset to dine with him, he entered his boat and was rowed back.
At sunset Mr. Beveridge and all the officers, with the exception of Tarleton, who remained in charge of the ship, went ashore. They were received at the landing-place by a guard of honour of Turkish soldiers in charge of one of the principal officers of the governor, and were conducted to his house through a crowd of people cheering and shouting.
The governor received them at his door. The dinner was served in Turkish fashion, all sitting on cushions round a table raised about a foot from the floor. A band of music played without, and a great number of dishes, of most of which Horace could only guess at the ingredients, were served; and after the meal, which was of great length, was concluded, slaves brought round ewers of water, in which all dipped their fingers, wiping them on embroidered towels. A variety of sweetmeats were then handed round, followed by coffee. Three or four interpreters had stood behind the guests, who were all placed between Turks, and thus conversation was rendered possible. At ten o’clock they took their leave with many cordial expressions on both sides, and were again escorted by a party of soldiers to their boats.
“There is no gainsaying,” Macfarlane said as they rowed off, “that there seems to be a good deal livelier feeling of gratitude among the Turks than there is among the Greeks. We have come all the way out from England to fight for the Greeks; we have sunk a Turkish ship, beaten off their boats with very heavy loss, and rescued nearly three thousand women and children from their hands, and yet there isn’t a Greek official who has said as much as thank you. They seem to consider that it is quite sufficient reward for us to have been of service to so great a people as they are. Upon the other hand, here are these Turks, though we have done them a great deal of damage, putting aside all enmity and treating us like gentlemen because we have saved a ship-load of their people. He was a very fine old heathen that governor.”
“The Turks, too, were a deal more grateful than any of the Greeks have been, except that batch from Cyprus,” Horace said.
“They were in better heart for being thankful, Horace,” Mr. Beveridge replied. “We have taken them back to their native land, and they will soon rejoin their friends and families; whereas the Chiots were going into exile and had lost everything that was dear to them, and the lot before them was, as the doctor pointed out, little if anything better than that we had saved them from. Still, I will do them the justice to say that the Turks were really grateful to us; and though we are not working for the purpose of obtaining gratitude, it is pleasant to see that people do feel that one has done something for them.”
“I suppose you won’t get up sail until morning, Martyn?” Mr. Beveridge said as they went down into the cabin.
“Yes, sir, if you have no objections I shall get up the anchor as soon as we are on board. You see we are not many miles from the mouth of the Dardanelles, and with a good glass they could make out our colours from the mainland; and if word were sent to their admiral that a Greek craft is at anchor here, he might send two or three ships out to capture us. I don’t give the Turks credit for such enterprise, but it is just as well not to run any risk. What is to be our course next, Mr. Beveridge?”
“There is likely to be a regular battle in a short time between the Greek army and the Turks. Indeed the Greeks will have to fight if they really mean to gain their independence. Dramali Pasha has some twenty thousand men collected on the banks of the Spercheus. Of these they say eight thousand are cavalry drawn from the Mussulman clans of Macedonia and Thrace, and he may move forward any day to reconquer the Morea and relieve Nauplia. If he is suffered to do this there is virtually an end of the war. I have not a shadow of faith in any of the Greek leaders, or in the Areopagus, but I still do believe in the vast bulk of the people. The Morea consists almost wholly of hilly and broken country, just the ground where an armed peasantry, knowing every pass and place of advantage, ought to be able to render the passage of a regular army with their wagons and baggage well-nigh impossible.
“In such a country the Turkish cavalry would be of little use, and there are only the infantry to cope with. The artillery would probably have to be left behind altogether. If ever an effort is to be made by the Greeks it must be made now. I propose therefore, Martyn, to sail down to Nauplia and to land there. The Turks, of course, still command the harbour with their guns, but the Greek vessels land supplies and ammunition for the besiegers, so there can be no difficulty about that. We have still a good many thousand muskets in the hold, and ammunition for them. I shall see what spirit prevails among the peasantry, shall issue arms to all who need them, and help with money if required. The peasantry will not want it, but the patriotism of their primates and captains may be a good deal strengthened by a little judicious expenditure of money. The Morea is the key of the whole position, and the present will be the critical moment of the revolution. If the Turks succeed, Greece is at their feet; if the Turkish army is defeated, Greece may conquer. Now, therefore, is the time for me to do my utmost to aid them.”
“Very well, sir; then I will lay her course to-morrow morning for the south-eastern point of Eubœa.”
On the voyage down Mr. Beveridge discussed with the others the course that he intended to take. He had quite determined himself to leave the coast and go into the interior, where, if the Turkish army was to be checked, the decisive battle must be fought. It was decided that Horace and the two Greeks should accompany him. The question most at issue was whether he should take with him any portion of the crew of the schooner; he himself was somewhat averse to this.
“I need hardly say, Martyn, that I have no intention whatever of mixing myself up in any fighting that may take place. I go simply to rouse the enthusiasm as much as possible of the peasantry, and to get the small local leaders to stir. If I can do nothing I shall simply come back to the schooner again. If the Greeks dispute the passage of the Turks I shall, if I can, take up my position where I can see what takes place, and if the Greeks are beaten, retire across the hills. What good then would it be for me to take any of the sailors with me? You may want them all on board, for it is possible, indeed it is probable, that the Turkish fleet will come round to Nauplia with supplies for the Turkish army when it arrives there.”
“Well, sir, I shouldn’t require the whole crew to get up sail and make off if I see them coming, and I do think that it would be very much better for you to have some men with you. In the first place, your having a guard of that sort would add to your importance in the eyes of the Greeks, and give more weight to your counsels. In the second place, if you are going to take arms and money on shore you will certainly require a guard for them, or run the risk of getting your throat cut. And lastly, if there should be a fight, and the Greeks get beaten, if you have fifteen or twenty men with you your chance of getting off safely would be very largely increased, for they could beat off any small party of horsemen that happened to overtake you. What do you think, Horace?”
“I certainly think so too. After what we have seen of the Greeks, father, I do think it would be better in every way to have a party of sailors with us. If it were known that you were going about the hills with a considerable sum of money you might be safe enough among the peasants, but I should say there were any number of these miserable primates and captains who would think nothing of cutting our throats to get it.”
Mr. Beveridge gave way at once, and it was arranged that a party of fifteen men, under the command of Miller, should land from the schooner and accompany him.
“Don’t you think, Mr. Beveridge,” Macfarlane said, “that it would be as well for you to take your medical attendant with you?”
Mr. Beveridge smiled. “I have scarcely regarded you hitherto, doctor, in the light of my medical attendant, but as the attendant of the ship’s company, and I don’t think that Horace or I, or any of the landing party, are likely to take any fever among the hills of the Morea.”
“I hope not, sir, but you see there may be some preliminary skirmishes before the regular battle you expect will take place, and I don’t suppose the Greeks will have any surgeons accustomed to gunshot wounds or capable of amputations among them, and therefore, you see, I might be of some service.”
“In addition to which, doctor,” Martyn laughed, “you think you would like a ramble on shore a bit.”
“Well, what do you think, Martyn?” Mr. Beveridge said; “it is for you to decide. The doctor may be, as he says, useful on shore; but then again his services may be required on board.”
“We are not likely to do any fighting, sir, and if he will mix up a gallon or two of jalap, and such other medicines as he thinks might be useful for ordinary ailments on board, I daresay Tarleton will see to their being administered as required.”
“Oh, yes, I will see to that,” Tarleton said. “Make them as nasty as you can, doctor, so that I sha’n’t have any unnecessary applications for them.”
And so it was settled that Dr. Macfarlane should form one of the landing party.
THE town of Nauplia stood on a projecting point at the head of the gulf which was in old times known as the Gulf of Argos, but was now more generally known as the Gulf of Nauplia, that town being the most important port in Greece, carrying on a large trade in sponges, silk, oil, wax, wines, and acorns. It was the seat of government of the Venetians at the time they were masters of the Morea, and had been very strongly fortified by them. The Acropolis, or citadel, stood on a craggy hill where the point on which the town stood joined the mainland. The Venetians had taken the greatest pain in fortifying this rock, which was well-nigh impregnable, and was considered the strongest position in the Morea.
The Turks had long been besieged here. Negotiations had at one time been carried on with a view to its surrender, and had the Greeks acted in good faith they could have gained possession of the place before Dramali advanced to its relief. Six weeks before, the Turks, having entirely consumed their provisions, signed the capitulation. The Turks had little faith in the Greeks observing its conditions, but were of opinion that it would be better to be massacred at once than to slowly die of hunger. By the terms of capitulation the Turks were to deliver up their arms and two-thirds of their movable property, while the Greeks were to allow them to hire neutral vessels to transport them to Asia Minor; and bound themselves to supply them with provisions until the vessels arrived to take them away.
The Greek government at once sent some of its members to Nauplia to register the property of the Turks. These immediately pursued the usual course of endeavouring to enrich themselves by secretly purchasing the property of the Turks, and by selling them provisions. The Greek ministers took no steps to charter neutral vessels, professing that they were unable to raise money for the purpose, but really delaying to enable their secretaries at Nauplia to make larger gains by bargaining with the wealthy Turks there. The Turks having now got provisions enough to enable them to hold on, were in no great hurry to conclude the surrender, as they knew that Dramali was advancing. Such was the state of things when the schooner arrived in the Gulf of Argos, and landed the party on the opposite side of the gulf.
They at once proceeded into the interior, stopping at every village. At each place they came to messengers were sent out to summon the peasantry of the neighbourhood to come in. When they had assembled Mr. Beveridge harangued them, pointing out that now or never was the time to win their independence; that if the Turkish invasion were rolled back now they might hope that the enemy would see that such a country could not be conquered when the inhabitants were determined to be free, for that if they thoroughly established their hold of it, and occupied all the fortresses, there would be no chance of their ever again shaking off the yoke. He said that he himself, an Englishman and a stranger, had come to aid them as far as possible, and that all unprovided with arms, or lacking ammunition, would receive them on going down to the ship anchored in the bay.
At each place, previous to addressing the assembly, he had distributed money among the local leaders and priests. These seconded his harangues, and numbers of the men went down to the coast and obtained guns and ammunition.
While Mr. Beveridge was travelling over the country the army of Dramali was advancing unopposed. The troops which the central government had placed to defend the passes fled without firing a shot, and Dramali occupied Corinth without resistance. The Acropolis there was impregnable, but the commander, a priest named Achilles Theodorides, in spite of his Christian name and the fact that the citadel was amply supplied with provisions, murdered the Turkish prisoners in his hands, and fled with the garrison as soon as Dramali approached the place.
The ease with which the Turkish general had marched through Eastern Greece and possessed himself of Corinth, raised his confidence to the highest point. It had been arranged that the Turkish fleet should meet him at Nauplia, and he therefore determined to march with his whole army there, obtain possession of the stores brought by the fleet, relieve the town, and then proceed to the conquest of the Morea. Two of his officers alone disagreed with him. Yussuf Pasha and Ali Pasha, the latter of whom was a large land-owner of Argos, and both of whom knew the country well, proposed that Corinth should be made the head-quarters of the army, and great magazines be formed there; that the army should be divided into two divisions, one of which, under Dramali, should march to Nauplia and then recover Tripolitza, while the other should march along the Gulf of Corinth to Patras, recovering possession of the fertile province of Achaia. Dramali, however, confident in his power to overcome any opposition that might be made, determined to carry out his own plan, and started with his own army for Nauplia.
Owing to the fact that Dramali had met with no opposition, and had advanced with much greater rapidity than was expected, the preparations for resistance were altogether incomplete at the time he moved forward from Corinth, though the people were firmly determined to resist his advance from Nauplia. Accordingly, to the great disappointment of Mr. Beveridge, he moved without opposition through the narrow defile of Dervenaki, where a few hundred men could have successfully opposed the advance of an army, and arrived without firing a shot at Argos, almost within sight of Nauplia, sending forward Ali Pasha with five hundred cavalry to take the command at Nauplia.
Had the Turkish fleet now arrived with supplies, as had been arranged, it is probable that Dramali would have overrun the Morea, and that the revolution in Greece would have been stamped out; but instead of doing this it passed round the Morea to Patras in order to take on board Mehemet, who had just been appointed Capitan Pasha. Dramali therefore found himself at Argos without provisions, as, relying upon obtaining supplies from the fleet, he had not encumbered himself with a baggage train.
The members of the Greek government whose head-quarters had been at Argos, had fled precipitately at the approach of Dramali. Argos had been crowded with political leaders and military adventurers who had gathered there in hopes of sharing in the plunder of Nauplia. All these fled in such haste that the national archives and a large quantity of plate that had just been collected from the churches and monasteries for the public service, were abandoned. A wild panic had seized the inhabitants, whose numbers had been vastly increased by refugees from Smyrna, Chios, and other places, and thousands deserted their houses and property, and fled in frantic terror. As soon as they had left, the town was plundered by bands of Greek klephts, who seized the horses, mules, working oxen, and carts of the peasantry round and loaded them with the plunder collected in the city, and the Turks, when they entered Argos, found that it had already been sacked.
While, however, the ministers, senators, and generals of Greece were flying in panic, the spirit of the people was rising, and a body of volunteers took possession of the ruined castle where the ancient Acropolis of Argos had stood, and defended the position successfully against the first attack of the Turks. Of all the Greek leaders, Prince Demetrius Hypsilantes alone showed courage and presence of mind. Hastening through the country he addressed energetic harangues to the people, who responded enthusiastically to his impassioned words, and took up arms without waiting for the call of their nominal leaders. The work of the little English party now bore fruit, and the peasants, with arms in their hands, some without leaders, some commanded by their captains and primates, flocked from all parts of the Morea towards the scene of action.
Having seen the work well begun, Hypsilantes hastened back to Argos, and, accompanied by several young chiefs, threw himself with some eight hundred men into the ruined castle, raising the force there to a thousand men. The place was, however, badly supplied with provisions and water, and the Turks closely invested it. The object with which the first volunteers had occupied the place had been gained: the advance of the Turks had been arrested, and time had been given to the people of the Morea to rise. Hypsilantes and the greater portion of the garrison accordingly withdrew during the night; but a small band held it for three days longer, cutting their way out when their last loaf was finished on the 1st of August, having occupied it on the 24th of July.
By this time the Greeks had five thousand men assembled at Lerna, the port of Argos, where the cowardly leaders had embarked, and they held a very strong position where the ground rendered it impossible for the Turkish cavalry to act. Other large bodies of Greeks occupied all the mountains surrounding the plain of Argos. Had Dramali, when he first found that the fleet had gone past with the supplies, returned to Corinth, he could have done so without a shot being fired; but it was not until the 6th of August, after wasting a fortnight, that he prepared to move. He had brought with him from Corinth ten thousand men, of whom half were cavalry, and already much greater numbers of Greeks were gathered round him. Kolokotronis was nominally in command, but the villagers obeyed their local leaders, and there was no order or system among them. Had there been, they could have occupied strong positions on the various roads leading up to the hills, and compelled the surrender of the whole Turkish army. Instead of doing this, each of the local chiefs took up the position that seemed to him to be best.
The advance guard of the Turkish army consisted of a thousand Albanians, trained and seasoned troops. These were allowed to go through without even a skirmish. A body of cavalry were then sent forward along the road by which they had come, and ordered to occupy the Dervenaki defile, which Dramali had left unguarded behind him. They found the Greeks intrenched there. The first Turkish division therefore moved by another pass. Niketos, one of the bravest of the Greek commanders, with two thousand men barred the valley and fell on their left flank, while another body of Greeks, under Hypsilantes and Dikaios, attacked them on the right. The Turkish cavalry charged forward and tried to clear the valley, but a picked body of marksmen, on a low hill overlooking a ravine, shot them down and blocked the ravine with the bodies of the horses and their riders.
The pressure from behind increased, and a body of well-mounted horsemen managed to dash through and reach Corinth in safety. Behind them the slaughter was terrible. The Turks were shot down in numbers, and fled in every direction. Many were killed, but more succeeded in escaping, for the Greeks directed their whole attention to plundering the great baggage-trains, consisting of mules and camels laden with the valuables of the pashas and the rich spoil that had been gathered in their advance. The news of the destruction of the first division of his army astounded Dramali; but it was impossible for him to remain at Argos, and the following day he moved forward by another road up the steep hill known as Kleisura. Dikaios opposed them in front; Niketos and Hypsilantes fell on their left flank.
As on the previous day, the baggage-train proved the salvation of the Turkish soldiers. The Greeks directed their entire attention to it; and while they were occupied in cutting it off, a brilliant charge by a chosen band of Turkish horsemen cleared the road in front, and Dramali, with the main body of his cavalry, was enabled to escape to Corinth. His military chest, and the whole of the Turkish baggage, fell into the hands of the Greeks. The troops under the immediate command of Kolokotronis took no part whatever in either day’s fighting, the whole of which was done by the two thousand men under the command of Niketos, under whom Dikaios and Hypsilantes acted. As Kolokotronis, however, was the nominal commander, the credit of the defeat of Dramali was generally ascribed to him.
The Moriots returned to their native villages, enriched by the spoil they had gathered. The party from the schooner had been spectators of the fight. They had scarcely expected so good a result, for the disorder, the want of plan, the neglect of any attempt to seize and occupy the roads, and, above all, the utter incapacity of Kolokotronis, seemed to render success almost hopeless; and, indeed, out of the fourteen thousand Greeks assembled but two thousand fired a shot.
Fortunately the brunt of the Turkish attack fell upon the one little division that was ably commanded. Had the main body aided them, not a soldier of Dramali’s army would have escaped. As it was, their loss in men was comparatively small; but the total destruction of their baggage-train, and, still more, the disorganization and depression which followed the disaster, inflicted upon them by an enemy they despised, completely paralyzed them, and no forward move was again attempted. Dramali himself was utterly broken down by the humiliation, and died at Corinth two months later.
Mr. Beveridge was well contented with the success, which was due partly to his efforts. He had expended upwards of five thousand pounds, and eight thousand muskets and a large quantity of ammunition had been distributed from the schooner to the peasants. The victory ought, he felt, to have been much more conclusive; but the spirit awakened among the Moriots, and the confidence that would be engendered throughout Greece at this victory over an army that had expected to overrun the whole country without difficulty, immensely improved the chances that Greek independence would be finally established.
There was, however, one unfortunate consequence of the affair. The success of these armed peasants at Argos confirmed the Greeks in their idea that discipline was wholly unnecessary, that regular troops were a mistake, and that all that was needed to conquer the Turks was for the people to muster under their local leaders whenever danger threatened. This absurd idea was the cause of many heavy disasters which subsequently occurred. When the second day’s fighting was over the English party made their way back to the schooner.
“I congratulate you heartily, sir, on the success the Greeks have gained,” Martyn said; for the news of the victory had already reached him.
“Thank you, Martyn. It might and ought to have been a great deal better. Still, I am very thankful that it is as good as it is. I can feel now that, come what may, my mission out here has not been altogether a failure. We have done much good work in the cause of humanity. My work during the last three weeks has been exactly what I pictured it would be before I left home. By my personal efforts I did a good deal to arouse the enthusiasm of the peasants. My money increased my influence, and the arms we brought out contributed largely to the success of the fight. I am pleased and gratified.”
“What sort of time have you had, Miller?” Martyn asked his comrade as they walked up and down the quarter-deck together, as Mr. Beveridge descended to his cabin.
“It has been good enough, for we have done a lot of tramping up hill and down. The chief bought a horse the day he landed, or I am sure he never could have stood it; it was pretty hard work even for us. You should have seen him, day after day, haranguing crowds of villagers. Of course I could not understand a word he said; but I can tell you he worked them up into a regular frenzy; and the way they shouted and waved their hands, and, as I imagine, swore terrible oaths that they would kill and eat every Turk they saw, was something tremendous. It quite electrified our fellows, who have been accustomed, I suppose, to consider the chief as a quiet, easy-going gentleman, and they cheered and shouted as loudly as the Greeks. Zaimes and his brother went off on expeditions, on their own account, to villages we could not spare time to go to. We were all right as to quarters and grub. The primates and captains, or whatever the leaders call themselves, naturally made a lot of us—and no wonder, considering how the chief scattered his money among them all. The mule that carried the money was pretty heavily laden when he went up, but the boxes were emptied before we returned. The food, of course, was pretty rough, though it was the best they had; but one has been spoiled for roughing it by our living here.”
“I found a difference, I can tell you, Miller, since you went, and I am heartily glad that Marco is back again. How has the doctor got on?”
“I think he has found it harder than he expected,” Miller laughed. “He confided to me to-day that he shall not volunteer for another expedition. But I was very glad he was with us; for Horace, of course, was always in the thick of it, with his father, jawing away with the village notables, and I should have had a dull time of it if it had not been for the doctor, whose remarks upon the real enthusiasm of the peasantry and the bought enthusiasm of their leaders were very amusing. The doctor does not say much when we are all together; but he is not at all a bad companion, and there is a lot of dry humour about him. And now I sha’n’t be sorry when supper is ready, for we have been on our legs since daybreak, and I have had nothing to eat but some bread we carried with us and some wine with which we had all filled our water-bottles.”
After this, for a time, the Misericordia had a quiet time of it cruising idly about among the Ionian Islands, and then crossing to Venice, where they stayed for three weeks. Then they crossed the Adriatic again, and put in at the port of Missolonghi. Mr. Beveridge was very anxious to hear the result of the battle that was expected between the Greek army, under Mavrocordatos, and the Turks advancing south. He had himself strongly wished to go with the Greek army, but had been dissuaded by Horace.
“My dear father, if we do any fighting at sea, we assuredly do our share without taking part in fighting on shore. When we have once seen the Greeks make a successful stand it will surely be time enough for us to take any share in the matter. The Philhellenes will fight, that is quite certain; but I think the odds are all against the Greeks doing so. Besides, as you have often said, Mavrocordatos is no more fit to command an army than any old woman in the streets of Athens would be. He knows nothing whatever of military matters, and will take no advice from those who do. I think there would be a tremendous risk in joining the Greek army, and no advantage to be gained from it. Of course, if you wish to go I will go with you, and we can take some of the men if you like; but I certainly think we had better keep away from it altogether.”
And so, instead of joining the Greek army, they had sailed to Venice. As soon as they dropped anchor off Missolonghi Horace was rowed ashore to get the news. He returned in an hour.
“It is lucky indeed, father, that we went to Venice instead of with Mavrocordatos.”
“What, have the Greeks been beaten?”
“Completely smashed up, father. I have been talking to two or three of the Philhellenes who were lucky enough to escape. Mavrocordatos sent the army on to Petta, and established himself some twenty miles in the rear. His chief of the staff, General Normann, felt the position was a very bad one, but could not fall back when the Turks advanced, as he had no orders. The regular troops, that is, the one regular regiment, the hundred Philhellenes, and a body of Ionian volunteers, were stationed in a position in front. The Greek irregulars, two thousand strong, were placed some distance in the rear, and were to cover the regulars from any attack from that direction. Two leaders of the irregulars were in communication with the Turks; when these advanced, the eight hundred men in front, who had two guns with them, repulsed them; but Reshid Pasha sent round six hundred Albanians, who advanced against a strong position in the rear. The whole body of the Greek irregulars bolted like rabbits, and then the Turks in front and the Albanians from the rear attacked the front division on all sides. They fought gallantly. Of the hundred Philhellenes, seventy-five were killed, the other twenty-five broke their way through the Turkish ranks. The Greek regiment and the Ionians were cut up by the Turkish infantry fire, followed by charges of their cavalry. Half of them were killed, the others broke their way through the Turks. So out of the eight hundred men over four hundred were killed. They say that not one surrendered. So I think, father, it is very well that we did not go up to see the fight, for you would naturally have been somewhere near the Philhellenes.”
“This is bad news indeed, Horace.”
“It is, father; but how the Greeks could suppose that it was any use getting up a regular army, consisting of one regiment of six hundred men, to fight the Turks, is more than I can imagine. As to their irregulars, except for fighting among the mountains, I do not see that they are of the slightest good.
“I am awfully sorry for the foreign officers. After coming here, as they did, to fight for Greece, and then forming themselves into a corps to encourage the natives to fight, to be deserted and left to fight a whole army is shameful. Those I spoke to are terribly cut up at the loss of three-quarters of their comrades. The Turks are advancing against Missolonghi. The Suliots have made terms, and are to be transported to the Ionian Islands. The British consul at Prevesa guarantees that the terms shall be honourably kept on both sides.”
Mr. Beveridge went ashore later, and returned completely disheartened by his conversation with the leading inhabitants. He learned that, so far from the defeat at Petta convincing the Greeks that it was only by submitting to discipline and forming regular regiments that they could hope to oppose the Turks, they had determined, on the contrary, that there was no hope of fighting in that way, and that henceforward they must depend entirely upon the irregulars.
“Their blindness is extraordinary,” he said. “They saw that, few as the disciplined men were, they repulsed the attack of the Turkish troops in front, and were only crushed when totally surrounded; while, on the other hand, two thousand five hundred irregulars were unable even to attempt to make a stand against six hundred Albanians, but deserted their comrades and fled after scarcely firing a shot; and yet in the future they intend to trust solely to these useless bands.
“At present everyone is quarrelling with everyone else. While Reshid Pasha is preparing to invade Greece the captains and primates, instead of uniting to oppose them, are quarrelling and fighting among themselves for their share of the national revenues. The district of Agrapha is being laid waste by civil broils; the province of Vlochos is being devastated by the bands of two rival leaders; Kravari is pillaged alternately by the bands of two other scoundrels; Gogos and half a dozen other captains have openly gone over to the Turks. There is only one hope I can see,” he added bitterly.
“What is that, Mr. Beveridge?” Martyn asked.
“It is, that the Greeks will continue their civil broils until they make their country a complete desert; and that the Turks, finding that they can obtain no food whatever, will be obliged by starvation to quit the country. One thing I am resolved upon, and that is, that until the Greeks fight for themselves I will do nothing further whatever in the matter. I will still try to save women and children, but I will do nothing else. I will neither interfere with Turkish commerce nor fire a gun at a Turkish ship of war. We will lower our long gun and four of the others down into the hold, Captain Martyn, and we will cruise about and enjoy ourselves for a bit.”
“Very well, sir. It is just a year since we arrived out here, and a little peace and quiet and amusement will do us no harm. I don’t know how it would be with our flag, and whether we can sail into Malta or into the Italian ports with it, or whether we can hoist our own again.”
“The papers are all right, I believe,” Mr. Beveridge said. “You see, she was nominally sold to the agent here of a Greek firm in London, and is therefore registered as the property of a Greek subject. I have papers signed by them selling the vessel again to me, with blanks for the dates, which can be filled in at any time; but these, of course, I could only fill in and use in the event of my deciding to leave Greece altogether and return to England. So that, at present, we are simply a Greek ship, owned by natives of that country, and holding letters of marque from the Greek government to act as a privateer. I do not think that the transaction would be recognized by any European power in the case of two European belligerents; but this is an exceptional case, as the sympathies of all the Christian powers are with the Greeks. As far as the Turks are concerned, it makes no difference; whether Greek or English, they would hang us if they caught us. But I don’t think any very close inquiries are likely to be made in any European port. Our Greek papers are all correct, and as we know that the account of our having saved large numbers of fugitives from Chios has been in the English papers, and doubtless our interference to save the Turks at Athens has also been published, I think that we should be received well by the sympathizers of either party.”
The next morning they sailed to Corinth, where they remained a few days. John Iskos, Mr. Beveridge’s agent at Athens, came across to see him. He informed him that he had sold but a very small portion of the goods consigned to him in the prizes, but had shipped the great bulk in neutral vessels and consigned them to the firm in London; the vessels themselves he had disposed of to Hydriot merchants. He recommended Mr. Beveridge to hand over to him the store of silks and other valuables that had been retained on board the schooner, and he would put them at once on board an Italian ship at present in the port, and consign them to a Greek house in Genoa, as he certainly would not obtain anything like fair prices for them in Greece.
The operation occupied two days, but all the most valuable goods were retained, as the prizes might have been recaptured by Turks on their way to Athens. The prizes had been brought in by Miller and Tarleton alternately, Marco or Zaimes accompanying them to interpret, the crews being taken back in native boats to Naxos, to which island the schooner had made several trips to pick them up.
For the next two months the schooner cruised in Italian waters, from Venice round to Genoa, putting in to many ports, making a circuit of Sicily, and paying a short visit to Malta; then learning that the Turks were about to besiege Missolonghi, and that the town was going to resist until the last, they crossed over there in the second week in November. They found that the port was blockaded by some Turkish ships from Patras, but that some Hydriot vessels were expected to arrive shortly. Mavrocordatos was himself in the town organizing the defence, and taking really vigorous measures for holding out to the last.
A week later seven Hydriot brigs arrived; the Misericordia, which had again mounted all her guns, joined them; but as they approached the port the Turkish vessels got up all sail and made for Patras, and the Greeks entered the port. Missolonghi was protected by a low mud wall, with a ditch six feet deep by sixteen feet wide. It contained but a foot of water, but at the bottom was a deep clay, rendering it quite impassable. There were eight guns mounted on the ramparts, and Mr. Beveridge landed at once six more of those still lying in the hold, with a supply of ammunition for the whole.
As soon as the port was open a thousand men crossed over from the Morea under the command of partisan chiefs, and from time to time others came in, until the garrison, originally but six hundred strong, was increased to two thousand five hundred. For some weeks nothing was done; but on the eve of the 6th of January, which was the Greek Christmas-day, a Greek fisherman brought in news that the Turks were preparing to assault the next morning at daylight, when they believed the Christians would generally be in their churches. Forty men were landed from the schooner to take part in the defence. At daybreak the defenders were all in their places, hidden behind the rampart or concealed in the houses near.
The storming party was led by eight hundred Albanian volunteers. One division was intended to scale the wall on its eastern flank, while another was to endeavour to penetrate the town by wading through a shallow lagoon at its eastern extremity. The whole Turkish army turned out, and suddenly opened a tremendous fire of musketry against the ramparts, while the storming parties moved forward. The defenders remained in their concealment until the Albanians were close at hand, and then, leaping up, poured their fire into them. Expecting to take the defenders by surprise, the Albanians were astounded at the sudden and heavy fire poured into them, and at once broke and fled in confusion. For some hours the Turks kept up a heavy fire, but did not renew their attack in earnest. Tons of ammunition were fired away on both sides, and then the Turks fell back to their camps, and on the following day raised the siege.
The wildness of the fire was evidenced by the fact that only four Greeks were killed. The blue-jackets from the schooner joined in the fire upon the storming parties, but when it was evident that the Turks had no idea of renewing the attack they returned on board ship. Their remarks upon the combatants were the reverse of complimentary.
“It is well-nigh enough to make a man sick, Tom,” one man said to another in Horace’s hearing. “To see them both blazing away good powder and lead like that, I reckon to be downright sinful.”
“You are right there, mate. It is a downright waste of the gifts of Providence. Why, there was powder and ball enough to have killed a good five thousand Englishmen and Frenchmen thrown away in accounting for four or five of them yelling fellows. It is more like play-acting than fighting. Why, if you was to arm a couple of gals’ schools and put ’em to fire at each other they would do ever so much better than that. And to think them Greeks calls themselves Christians and don’t know how to aim a musket no better than that; they might just as well be heathen.”
While Missolonghi had been resisting successfully, the Turkish garrison of Nauplia had at last surrendered. After Dramali’s army had abandoned it the only hope that remained to them was that the fleet might return. The Greeks retained possession of a small fort that had been given up to them at the time that the first negotiations for surrender were going on. From this fort combustible missiles were fired into the town, and a brisk cannonade kept up with its defences, but without much damage being done on either side. On the 20th of September the Turkish fleet appeared off the entrance to the gulf, and the Greek fleet from the islands of Hydra and Spetzas stood out to meet them.
Unfortunately Admiral Kanaris was not present. For four days the two fleets remained in sight of each other, firing at such distances that no harm was done on either side. There was nothing to have prevented the Turkish admiral relieving Nauplia and landing the troops and provisions in his transports; but he feared to enter the gulf, while the Greeks shrank equally from an attack upon him. After thus exhibiting for four days his cowardice and incapacity, the Turkish capitan-pasha abandoned Nauplia to its fate. The resistance only continued because the Turks could put no reliance upon the oaths of the Greeks. Women and children dropped dead from hunger in the streets; the soldiers were so weak from starvation that but few were able to carry their arms. The citadel was at last abandoned simply because the soldiers who went down into the town to fetch the scanty rations for its defenders were too weak to climb the hill again; and the Greeks, as soon as they learned that it was abandoned, occupied the position. Kolokotronis and a number of other leaders, attracted by the prospect of booty, hurried to the spot like vultures round a carcass.
Negotiations were again opened, and the Turks surrendered on the terms of the Greeks engaging to transport them to Asia Minor, allowing each to retain a single suit of clothes, a quilt for bedding, and a carpet for prayer. As soon as the terms were signed, Kolokotronis and the captains entered the town with their personal followers and prevented all others from entering. The soldiers assembled before the gates, declaring that they would not allow the chiefs to appropriate to themselves everything valuable, threatening to storm the place, murder the Turks, and sack the town. Greece was saved from fresh dishonour by the timely arrival of the English frigate Cambrian, commanded by Captain Hamilton. He was a strong friend of Greece, and was known to many of the Greek leaders.
He at once held a conference with them, and in the strongest language urged upon them the necessity of taking measures for the execution of the capitulation, for that another breach of faith, another foul massacre, would render the name of Greece despicable in civilized Europe and ruin the cause of the country. Hamilton’s character was greatly respected, and his words had their effect. He insisted upon their chartering ships to embark the Turks. He himself took five hundred of them on board the Cambrian, and nine hundred were embarked in the Greek transports. This interference of Captain Hamilton excited great anger in Greece.