CHAPTER III.

Works at Bulair--Scutari--Return to Gallipoli--French Troops--Intricate Monetary Arrangements--The Turkish Commissions--Army Chaplains--Fire in a Turkish Town--Prevalence of High Winds at Gallipoli--Arrival of Lord Raglan at Gallipoli--Review of French Troops--Greek Apathy and Turkish Indifference.

Whilst part of the army was engaged on the works at Bulair, arrangements were made for the reception of English regiments in the Bosphorus. On the 13th of April the _Himalaya_ arrived with the 33rd Regiment (Colonel Blake) and the 41st Regiment (Colonel Adams) on board, and anchored off Gallipoli; Sir George Brown ordered her off to Scutari after a short delay, and as I was miserably lodged at Gallipoli, I took a passage on board. On the 15th (Good Friday) she arrived in the midst of a snow-storm, and moored at the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus. These regiments were the first that landed at Scutari--a place about to acquire a sad notoriety as the head-quarters of death and sickness, and a happier interest as the scene of the labours of Florence Nightingale and her sisters. The day was bitterly cold; Constantinople and Pera, black-looking and desolate, contrasted with the white hills behind them, covered with deep snow; and the Asiatic mountains in the distance had an Alpine wintry aspect, which gave a shock to our notions of an Oriental spring. The barracks were given up to the men just as they had been left by the Turkish troops, and were inhabited by legions of fleas, and less active but more nauseous insects. It was late in the day when the regiment arrived at quarters, and several officers lay for the night in the guard-room, which had an open brasier of charcoal to keep warmth in it. All night we could scarcely sleep, and at dawn we began to receive visits from Turks, who were kind enough to see if they could relieve us of anything they thought we did not want.

A fire broke out at Gallipoli on the morning of Saturday, the 22nd of April. The previous Friday was the Good Friday of the Greeks, and they kept it as is their wont on a great festival, staying up late and feasting and revelling. It was late, therefore--about 9 o'clock in the morning--when, in the middle of a comfortable sleep, we were awakened by Assistant-Surgeon Irwin, of the 28th, who slept in a den in the next room with Captain Mansell, of the same regiment, rushing in and exclaiming--"Get up! get up! Alexander's house is on fire!" The house in which the principal medical officer lived was on the other side of the street, about three houses lower down. Flames were issuing through the windows of Papa Zonani's residence, and the Greek population were gazing idly on while those who lived on either side were removing their effects as rapidly as possible. The Turks stroked their beards, and considered that the will of God was directly concerned in the destruction of the premises, while the Greeks wrung their hands, and did nothing further. The Major in his excitement dashed his hand through a pane of glass, and shouted out, "Get up and bundle out your things, or we're done for." A jump out of bed and a rush at the few spare articles of clothing lying about followed, and then commenced a rapid flight down stairs into a garden of onions and garlic at the rear of the house, which seemed especially formed as a refuge for us. There were in the house Mr. Irwin, of the 28th, Captain Mansell, of the 28th, Major Collingwood Dickson, R.A., two soldiers of the 28th, servants of the officers, an old woman, several children, cocks, hens, &c., immediately a secession of _lares_ and _penates_ to this land of refuge began; beds, coats, trunks, portmanteaus, boxes, were hurled down the stairs, and fierce struggles took place for precedence in the narrow passage, while the old lady and the children howled dismally as they flew about with pipkins and spinning-reels and inexplicable chattels.

[Sidenote: A FIRE AT GALLIPOLI.]

In the midst of all our confusion a heavy tramp was heard in the street--the door of our house was burst open, and in rushed a body of French infantry, shouting out, "Cassez tous, cassez tous; il faut abattre la maison!" However, it was explained to them that this necessity was not absolute, and that it would be much better for them to devote themselves to saving our property. They at once assented, and rushing on the various things in the room, transported them with incredible rapidity into the garden. Their comrades outside were as energetic as demons. They mounted on the roofs of the houses next to the burning mansion, smashed in the tiles, destroyed the walls, and left them a mass of ruins in as little time as it takes me to write these lines. They saved the quarter of the town, for there was but little water, and the few small hand-engines were of no service. The marines and sailors of the _Jean Bart_ and _Montebello_ were landed very speedily.

The Doctor's house and two others, as well as the greater part of the hospital, were destroyed. Several of the French soldiers were hurt severely, but no lives were lost. There was no pillage, owing to the vigilance of the French guards. The only mischief, beyond the destruction of property in the houses, the loss of twenty pounds' worth of Dr. Alexander's effects, and the fright, was that we were compelled to take refuge in a tent pitched in the onion-garden at the back of the cabin, which would have formed a very agreeable residence for an enthusiastic entomologist, but was by no means agreeable, on those cold and windy nights, to unscientific individuals.

On the same day Sir De Lacy Evans and staff, in the _City of London_, passed, after a short delay, on their way to Scutari, to form the Second Division. On the 23rd the _Emperor Nicholas_ passed Gallipoli early in the morning, with Sir Richard England on board, on his way to Constantinople, to take the command of the Third Division. Later in the day the _Trent_, with the 23rd Regiment; the _Tonning_, with Brigadiers Sir C. Campbell and Pennefather; and the _Medway_, with the 95th Regiment, arrived, and after a short delay proceeded northwards to Scutari. Eyre, who arrived in the _Tonning_, was at once secured by Sir George Brown, who had been anxiously waiting to catch a brigadier. He set to work to drill his men with energy a day or two after his arrival. The 44th (to whom the General paid a compliment on their efficient condition), the 28th, and 4th, were under arms daily at 5-1/2 A.M., and they thought themselves lucky if they got released after three hours' drill and marching. The Brigadier was always at the camp soon after dawn.

Æolus must have taken his abode somewhere in the neighbourhood of Gallipoli since he removed his Court from Lipari. The unseasonable rapidity with which he opens his bags, and the violence with which he sends forth the sharpest and most truculent of all the winds to sweep over the hills around this miserable spot, would satisfy Juno in her most indignant mood if the place were a Trojan colony. The extraordinary suddenness of these changes and the excessive variations of temperature were very trying to the men in camp, but the average of illness and disease was rather below that of most camps in ordinary circumstances. The sun rises, perchance, from behind the hills of Asia Minor without a cloud to mar his splendour; the Sea of Marmora, bounded by the faint blue lines of the highlands of Asia and the distinctive sweep of the European coast, spreads out towards the north-west like a sheet of burnished silver; the Dardanelles flows swiftly between the contracted channel as smoothly as the Thames in summer time by the pleasant meads of Chertsey. There is a rich sylvan look about the scenery, for at a distance the hills around Lampsaki, across the straits, appear to be dotted with verdant lawns and plantations; and the outline of the high grounds, rising tier after tier till they are capped by the lofty range which stretches along the background from Ida in the Troad, is subdued and regular.

The villages built in the recesses of the hills and in the little bays and creeks of the straits, surrounded by all the enchantment of distance, look clean and picturesque, the dark groves of cypress casting into bright relief the whitewash of the houses and the tall shafts of minarets standing out gracefully from the confused mass of roofs, gables, masts, yards, and sails by the seaside. Further south the coasts close in abruptly, and the straits are like a long Highland loch. The land around Gallipoli on the European side of the straits is more bleak and more level. Indeed, for miles around the town (except towards the south, where there is a very small table-land with patches of trees), and all the way across to the Gulf of Saros, the country very much resembles the downs about Brighton. It is nearly as destitute of wood or plantations. The soil, which is light, but deep and rather sandy, produces excellent crops, but bears no trees, except a few figs and olives. The vines, which are planted in rows, not trailed as in Italy, are abundant, and the grape yields a rich, full, and generous wine, which is highly esteemed. Into the soil, which is just scratched up by ploughs rather inferior to those described by Virgil 1800 years ago, the dejected rayahs are busied throwing the corn and barley seed; and as the slow steers or huge lumbering buffaloes pace along the furrows, they are followed by a stately army of storks, which march gravely at the very heels of beast and ploughman, and engage themselves busily in destroying the grubs and larvæ. On all the heights around glisten the white tents of French or English, and here and there the eye rests upon their serrated lines on the slope of some pleasant valley, or lights on the encampment of some detached party posted in a recess of the hills. Faint clouds of dust, through which may be seen the glistening of steel and dark masses of uniform, blur the landscape here and there, and betray the march of troops along the sandy roads, which are exactly like those worn by the tramp of men and horses through Chobham-common, and had neither fence, boundary-metal, nor drainage.

[Sidenote: WORKS AT BULAIR.]

In a moment the whole scene changes. A violent storm of wind rushes over the face of the sea and straits, lashing them into fury, and sending the Turkish boats flying with drooping peaks to the shelter of the shore--the coast is obscured by masses of black clouds, which burst into torrents of rain resembling tropical water-spouts. The French men-of-war in the bay send down top masts, the merchantmen run out cable and let go another anchor; the rayahs plod across the fields, and crouch in holes and corners till the storm abates; and the luckless troops on their march are covered with mud by the action of the rain. In such times as these canvas is a sorry shelter--the pegs draw from the loose soil, and let in wind and rain. On Saturday, the 29th of April, tents were blown down by such a storm in all directions. In the two English camps about twenty were down at the same time, and exposed the men to all the drenching rain. Lady Errol, who was living with her husband in the Rifle Camp, had to crawl from under the dripping canvas in most sorry plight.

Prince Jerome Napoleon arrived on the 30th. The town was shaken by the Imperial salute of 101 guns from each of the five French line-of-battle ships. He left the ship for the shore in a storm of wind, under a similar salute, which frightened the Greeks out of their lives. Next Sunday, Prince Napoleon, General Canrobert, and the _état major_ reviewed the French troops, and the English General and staff attended upon the occasion.

Lord Raglan, accompanied by Lord de Ros, Quartermaster-General, and staff, Mr. Burrell, Dr. Tice, &c., arrived May 2nd, at noon, on board the _Emeu_. He proceeded to General Brown's quarters, and they had a long interview. Lord Raglan visited Admiral Bruat on board his flag-ship, and sailed the same night for the Bosphorus and for Scutari.

The works at the intrenched camp at Bulair progressed with such speed that our portion of them was at this time expected to be finished by the middle of May. The emulation between the French and English troops at the diggings was immense, and at the same time most good-humoured. The lines were about seven miles long, and about two and three-quarters or three miles were executed by our men. They were simple field works, running along the crest of a natural ridge, from the Gulf of Saros to the Sea of Marmora. They consisted of a trench seven feet deep; the bottom, from scarp to counterscarp, six feet broad; the top thirteen feet broad. There was then a berm of three feet wide, above which was the parapet of earthwork (to be revetted in due course) of five feet thick, a banquette three feet six inches broad, and a slope inside of one in two.

The spectator who selects a high point of land on the undulating country round Brighton, and looks across the valley below, might form a tolerable idea of the terrain around Gallipoli. Crossing the hills in all directions, and piercing the ravines between them, the dark masses of French infantry advancing from their numerous encampments might at the period referred to be seen formed for miles around on every sloping plateau. The shrill trumpets of the Zouaves were frequently heard sounding a wild and eccentric march, and these fierce-looking soldiers of Africa, burnt brown by constant exposure to the sun, with beards which easily distinguish them from the native Arabs, came rushing past, for their pace is so quick that it fully justifies the term. The open collars of their coats allow free play to the lungs; the easy jacket, the loose trouser, and the well-supported ankle, constitute the _beau ideal_ of a soldier's dress; their firelocks and the brasses of their swords and bayonets are polished to a nicety. Each man was then fully equipped for the field, with great-coat strapped over his knapsack, canteen by his side, a billhook, hatchet, or cooking-tin fastened over all. In the rear, mounted on a packhorse, followed a vivandière, in the uniform of the regiment, with natty little panniers and neatly-polished barrels of diminutive size dangling over the saddle; and then came a sumpter-mule, with two wooden boxes fastened to the pack, containing small creature comforts for the officers. The word was given to halt--stand at ease--pile arms. In a moment the whole regiment seemed disorganized. The men scattered far and wide over the fields collecting sticks and brushwood, and it appeared incredible that they could have gathered all the piles of brambles and dried wood and leaves which they deposited in the rear of the lines from the country that looked so bare. The officers gathered in groups, lighted cigars, chatted and laughed, or sat on the ground while their coffee was being boiled.

The moment the halt took place, off came the boxes from the mule--a little portable table was set up--knives, forks, glasses and cups were laid out--a capacious coffee-tin was put upon three stones over a heap of bramble, and in three minutes each officer could take a cup of this refreshing drink after his hot march, with a biscuit and morsel of cheese, and a chasse of brandy afterwards. The men were equally alert in providing themselves with their favourite beverage. In a very short space of time two or three hundred little camp-fires were lighted, sending up tiny columns of smoke, and coffee-tins were boiling, and the busy brisk vivandière, with a smile for every one, and a joke or box on the ear for a favourite vieux moustache, passed along through the blaze, and filled out tiny cups of Cognac to the thirsty soldiers. Pipes of every conceivable variety of shape were lighted, and a hum and bustle rose up from the animated scene, so rich in ever-shifting combinations of form and colour that Maclise might have looked on it with wonder and despair. Regiment after regiment came up on the flanks of the Zouaves, halted, and repeated the process, the only remarkable corps being the Indigènes, or native Zouaves, dressed exactly the same as the French, except that jackets, trousers, and vest are of a bright powder blue, trimmed with yellow, and their turbans, or the folds of linen round the fez, are of pure white.

[Sidenote: REVIEW OF FRENCH TROOPS.]

In an hour or so the crest of the hill, which extended in undulating folds for two or three miles, was covered by battalions of infantry, and they might be seen toiling up the opposite ridge, till nothing was visible from one extremity to the other but the broken lines of these stalwart battalions. There was a ready, dashing, serviceable look about the men that justified the remark of one of the captains--"We are ready as we stand to go on to St. Petersburg this instant." There was a vivacity, so to speak, about the appearance of the troops which caught the eye at once. The air of reality about this review distinguished it from sham fights and field-days, and all holiday demonstrations of the kind. Before twelve o'clock there were about 20,000 troops on the opposite ridges of hills--an excellently-appointed train of artillery of nine-pounder guns, with appointments complete, being stationed in the valley below. The columns, taken lineally, extended upwards of eight miles. Strange as such a spectacle must have been to Turks and Greeks, there was scarcely a native on the ground. Whether fear or apathy kept them away, it is impossible to say; but Gallipoli, with its 15,000 inhabitants, sent not a soul to gaze upon the splendid spectacle. If Horace be right, the Gallipolitans have indeed discovered the secret of the only true happiness. They absolutely revel in the most voluptuous indulgence of the _nil admirari_. While six or seven French men-of-war were anchored in their waters, while frigates and steamers and line-of-battle ships kept passing up and down in continuous streams, waking the echoes of the Dardanelles with endless salutes, not a being ever came down to glance at the scene. The old crones sat knitting in their dingy hovels; the men, i.e., the Greeks, slouched about the corners in their baggy breeches, and the pretty and dirty little children continued their games without showing the smallest sign of curiosity, though a whole fleet was blazing away its thunder in an Imperial welcome within a few yards of them.

As for the Turks, they sat so obstinately on their shelves and smoked their apathetic pipes so pertinaciously--they were so determined in resenting the impulses of curiosity--that one's fingers were perpetually itching to indulge in the luxury of giving them a slap in the face, and it was all but impossible to resist the impulse of trying what effect a kick would have had in disturbing such irritating equanimity. There were no Chobham crowds to break the uniformity of the lines of military, but great numbers of the English soldiery, in their Sunday costume, turned out and "assisted" at the ceremony. Shortly before twelve o'clock, a brilliant staff--it did indeed literally blaze in gold and silver, brass and polished steel, as the hot sun played on rich uniforms and accoutrements--was visible coming up the valley from the direction of the town. They were preceded by four vedettes, French dragoons with brazen helmets and leopard-skin mountings; the various staff officers in advance; then Prince Napoleon, in the uniform of a Lieutenant-General, and General Canrobert, in full dress and covered with orders, on one side, and Sir George Brown on the other, both somewhat in the rear. The effect of the _cortége_ as it swept past, the vision of prancing horses and gorgeous caparisons, of dancing plumes, of gold and silver lace, of hussar, dragoon, artillery, rifle, Zouave, spahi, lancer, of officers of all arms, dressed with that eye to effect which in France is very just as long as men are on horseback, was wonderful. It flashed by like some grand procession of the stage, if one can so degrade its power and reality by the comparison. It was not gratifying to an Englishman to observe the red coatee and cocked hat; the gold epaulettes and twist of the British officers looked very ill amid all the variety of costume in which the French indulged, nor was it without reason that the latter complained they could not tell which was the general or which the captain by their uniforms.

As the vedettes came in view the drums of each regiment rolled, the trumpets and bugles sounded, and all the men who had been scattered over the ground in disorderly multitudes came running in from all sides, and dressed up, unpiled arms, and with great celerity fell into lines three deep, with bands, _vivandières_, mules, and smoking fires hastily extinguished in the rear. When General Canrobert reached the first regiment he raised his cocked hat, and shouted lustily, "_Vive l'Empereur_." The officers repeated the cry, and three times it ran along the line of the regiment. The band struck up, the men presented arms, and the Prince rode past bowing and raising his hat in acknowledgment, and again the band, out of compliment to the English General, played "God save the Queen."

Soon after daybreak on the 6th of May, the Rifle Brigade, the 50th Regiment, and the 93rd Regiment, forming the working brigade of Bulair, struck tents. At the same time the 4th, 28th, and 44th Regiments, at the Soulari encampment, about two miles from the town of Gallipoli, proceeded towards Bulair, to take up the quarters vacated by the other brigade. The mass of baggage was enormous. The trains of buffalo and bullock carts, of pack-horses, and mules, and of led horses, which filed along the road to Gallipoli, seemed sufficient for the army of Xerxes. For seven or eight miles the teams of country carts, piled up with beds and trunks, and soldiers' wives and tents, were almost unbroken; now and then an overladen mule tumbled down, or a wheel came off, and the whole line of march became a confused struggle of angry men and goaded cattle. It so happened that two French battalions were moving out to fresh quarters (they change their camps once a fortnight), and it became perceptible at a glance that, _pro rata_, they carried much less _impedimenta_ than our regiments. There is considerable difficulty in accounting for this; because without a complete knowledge of the internal economy of both armies comparison would be difficult; but the absence of women--the small kit of the officers, as well as the size of the tents, went far to account for it. Frenchmen live in uniform, while no British soldier is quite happy without mufti. He must have his wide-awake and shooting jacket, and dressing gown, and evening dress, and a tub of some sort or other, a variety of gay shirting, pictorial and figurative, while the Gaul does very well without them.