THE causes of the last war with Russia, overwhelmed by verbiage, and wrapped up in coatings of protocols and dispatches, at the time are now patent to the world. The independence of Turkey was menaced by the Czar, but France and England would have cared little if Turkey had been a power whose fate could affect in no degree the commerce or the reputation of the allies. France, ever jealous of her prestige, was anxious to uphold the power of a nation and a name which, to the oriental, represents the force, intelligence, and civilization of Europe. England, with a growing commerce in the Levant, and with a prodigious empire nearer to the rising sun, could not permit the one to be absorbed and the other to be threatened by a most aggressive and ambitious state. With Russia, and France by her side, she had not hesitated to inflict a wound on the independence of Turkey which had been growing deeper every day. But when insatiable Russia, impatient of the slowness of the process, sought to rend the wounds of the dying man, England felt bound to stay her hands, and to prop the falling throne of the Sultan.

Although England had nothing to do with the quarrels of the Greek and Latin Churches, she could not be indifferent to the results of the struggle. If Russia had been permitted to exercise a protectorate over the Greek subjects of the Porte, and to hold as material guarantee the provinces of the Danube, she would be the mistress of the Bosphorus, the Dardanelles, and even the Mediterranean. France would have seen her moral weight in the East destroyed. England would have been severed from her Indian Empire, and menaced in the outposts of her naval power. All Christian States have now a right to protect the Christian subjects of the Porte; and in proportion as the latter increase in intelligence, wealth, and numbers, the hold of the Osmanli on Europe will relax. The sick man is not yet dead, but his heirs and administrators are counting their share of his worldly goods, and are preparing for the suit which must follow his demise. Whatever might have been the considerations and pretences which actuated our statesmen, the people of England entered, with honesty of purpose and singleness of heart, upon the conflict with the sole object of averting a blow aimed at an old friend. To that end they devoted their treasure, and in that cause they freely shed their blood.

Conscious of their integrity, the nation began the war with as much spirit and energy as they continued it with calm resolution and manly self-reliance. Their rulers were lifted up by the popular wave, and carried further than they listed. The vessel of the State was nearly dashed to pieces by the great surge, and our dislocated battalions, swept together and called an army, were suddenly plunged into the realities of war. But the British soldier is ready to meet mortal foes. What he cannot resist are the cruel strokes of neglect and mal-administration. In the excitement caused by the news of victory the heart's pulse of the nation was almost frozen by a bitter cry of distress from the heights of Sebastopol. Then followed accounts of horrors which revived the memories of the most disgraceful episodes in our military history. Men who remembered Walcheren sought in vain for a parallel to the wretchedness and mortality in our army. The press, faithful to its mission, threw a full light on scenes three thousand miles from our shores, and sustained the nation by its counsels. "Had it not been for the English press," said an Austrian officer of high rank, "I know not what would have become of the English army. Ministers in Parliament denied that it suffered, and therefore Parliament would not have helped it. The French papers represented it as suffering, but neither hoping nor enduring. Europe heard that Marshal St. Arnaud won the Alma, and that the English, aided by French guns, late in the day, swarmed up the heights when their allies had won the battle. We should have known only of Inkerman as a victory gained by the French coming to the aid of surprised and discomfited Englishmen, and of the assaults on Sebastopol as disgraceful and abortive, but your press, in a thousand translations, told us the truth all over Europe, and enabled us to appreciate your valour, your discipline, your Élan, your courage and patience, and taught us to feel that even in misfortune the English army was noble and magnificent."

The press upheld the Ministry in its efforts to remedy the effects of an unwise and unreasoning parsimony, prepared the public mind for the subversion of an effete system, encouraged the nation in the moment of depression by recitals of the deeds of our countrymen, elevated the condition and self-respect of the soldiery, and whilst celebrating with myriad tongues the feats of the combatants in the ranks, with all the fire of TyrtÆus, but with greater power and happier results, denounced the men responsible for huge disasters—"told the truth and feared not"—carried the people to the battlefield—placed them beside their bleeding comrades—spoke of fame to the dying and of hope to those who lived—and by its magic power spanned great seas and continents, and bade England and her army in the Crimea endure, fight, and conquer together.

The army saved, resuscitated, and raised to a place which it never occupied till recently in the estimation of the country, has much for which to thank the press. Had its deeds and sufferings never been known except through the medium of frigid dispatches, it would have stood in a very different position this day, not only abroad but at home. But gratitude is not a virtue of corporations. It is rare enough to find it in individuals; and, although the press has permission to exhaust laudation and flattery, its censure is resented as impertinence. From the departure of our first battalions till the close of the war, there were occasions on which the shortcomings of great departments and the inefficiency of extemporary arrangements were exposed beyond denial or explanation; and if the optimist is satisfied they were the inevitable consequences of all human organization, the mass of mankind will seek to provide against their recurrence and to obviate their results. With all their hopes, the people at the outset were little prepared for the costs and disasters of war. They fondly believed they were a military power, because they possessed invincible battalions of brave men, officered by gallant, high-spirited gentlemen, who, for the most part, regarded with dislike the calling, and disdained the knowledge, of the mere "professional" soldier. There were no reserves to take the place of those dauntless legions which melted in the crucible of battle, and left a void which time alone could fill. When the Guards[3] left London, on 22nd February, 1854, those who saw them march off to the railway station, unaccustomed to the sight of large bodies of men, and impressed by the bearing of those stalwart soldiers, might be pardoned if they supposed the household troops could encounter a world in arms. As they were the first British regiments which left England for the East, as they bore a grand part worthy of their name in the earlier, most trying, and most glorious period of our struggles, their voyage possesses a certain interest which entitles it to be retained in this revised history; and with some few alterations, it is presented to the reader.

Their cheers—re-echoed from Alma and Inkerman—bear now a glorious significance, the "morituri te salutant" of devoted soldiers addressed to their sorrowing country.

"They will never go farther than Malta!"—Such was the general feeling and expression at the time. It was supposed that the very news of their arrival in Malta would check the hordes of Russia, and shake the iron will which broke ere it would bend. To that march, in less than one year, there was a terrible antithesis. A handful of weary men—wasted and worn and ragged—crept slowly down from the plateau of Inkerman where their comrades lay thick in frequent graves, and sought the cheerless shelter of the hills of Balaklava. They had fought and had sickened and died till that proud brigade had nearly ceased to exist.

The swarm of red-coats which after a day of marching, of excitement, of leave-taking, and cheering, buzzed over the Orinoco, Ripon, Manilla, in Southampton Docks, was hived at last in hammock or blanket, while the vessels rode quietly in the waters of the Solent. Fourteen inches is man-of-war allowance, but eighteen inches were allowed for the Guards. On the following morning, February 23rd, the steamers weighed and sailed. The Ripon was off by 7 o'clock A.M., followed by the Manilla and the Orinoco. They were soon bowling along with a fresh N.W. breeze in the channel.

Good domestic beef, sea-pudding, and excellent bread, with pea-soup every second day, formed substantial pieces of resistance to the best appetites. Half a gill of rum to two of water was served out once a day to each man. On the first day Tom Firelock was rather too liberal to his brother Jack Tar. On the next occasion, the ponderous Sergeant-Major of the Grenadiers presided over the grog-tub, and delivered the order, "Men served—two steps to the front, and swallow!" The men were not insubordinate.

The second day the long swell of Biscay began to tell on the Guards. The figure-heads of the ships plunged deep, and the heads of the soldiers hung despondingly over gunwale, portsill, stay, and mess-tin, as their bodies bobbed to and fro. At night they brightened up, and when the bugle sounded at nine o'clock, nearly all were able to crawl into their hammocks for sleep. On Saturday the speed of the vessels was increased from nine-and-a-half to ten knots per hour; and the little Manilla was left by the large paddle-wheel steamers far away. On Sunday all the men had recovered; and when, at half-past ten, the ship's company and troops were mustered for prayers, they looked as fresh as could be expected under the circumstances;—in fact, as the day advanced, they became lively, and the sense of joyfulness for release from the clutches of their enemy was so strong that in reply to a stentorian demand for "three cheers for the jolly old whale!" they cheered a grampus which blew alongside.

On Tuesday the Ripon passed Tarifa, at fifty minutes past five A.M., and anchored in the quarantine ground of Gibraltar to coal half-an-hour afterwards. In consequence of the quarantine regulations there was no communication with the shore, but the soldiers lined the walls, H.M.S. Cruiser manned yards, and as the Ripon steamed off at half-past three P.M., after taking on board coals, tents and tent-poles, they gave three hearty cheers, which were replied to with goodwill. On Thursday a target painted like a Russian soldier was run up for practice. The Orinoco reached Malta on Sunday morning at ten A.M., and the Ripon on Saturday night soon after twelve o'clock. The Coldstreams were disembarked in the course of the day, and the Grenadiers were all ashore ere Monday evening, to the delight of the Maltese, who made a harvest from the excursions of the "plenty big men" to and from the town.

The Manilla arrived at Malta on the morning of March 7th, after a run of eighteen days from Southampton. The men left their floating prisons only to relinquish comfort and to "rough it." One regiment was left without coals, another had no lights or candles, another suffered from cold under canvas, in some cases short commons tried the patience of the men, and forage was not to be had for the officers' horses. Acting on the old formula when transports took eight weeks to Malta, the Admiralty supplied steamers which make the passage in as many days with eight weeks' "medical comforts." By a rigid order, the officers were debarred from bringing more than 90lb. weight of baggage. Many of them omitted beds, canteen and mess traps, and were horror-stricken when they were politely invited to pitch their tents and "make themselves comfortable" on the ravelins, outside Valetta.

The arrival of the Himalaya before midnight on the same day, after a run of seven days and three hours from Plymouth, with upwards of 1,500 men on board, afforded good proof of our transport resources. Ordinary troop-ships would have taken at least six weeks, and of course it would have cost the Government a proportionate sum for their maintenance, while they were wasting precious moments, fighting against head winds. The only inconvenience attendant on this great celerity is, that many human creatures, with the usual appetites of the species, are rapidly collected upon one spot, and supplies can scarcely be procured to meet the demand. The increase of meat-consuming animals at Malta nearly produced the effects of a famine; there were only four hundred head of cattle left in the island and its dependencies, and with a population of 120,000—with the Brigade of Guards and 11 Regiments in garrison, and three frigates to feed, it may easily be imagined that the Commissariat were severely taxed to provide for this influx.

The Simoom, with the Scots Fusileer Guards, sixteen days from Portsmouth, reached Malta on the 18th of March. The troops were disembarked the following day, in excellent order. A pile of low buildings running along the edge of the Quarantine Harbour, with abundance of casements, sheltered terraces, piazzas, and large arched rooms, was soon completely filled. The men in spite of the local derangements caused on their arrival by "liberty" carousing in acid wine and fiery brandy, enjoyed good health, though the average of disease was rather augmented by the results of an imprudent use of the time allowed to them in London, to bid good-bye to their friends.

For the three last weeks in March, Valetta was like a fair. Money circulated briskly. Every tradesman was busy, and the pressure of demand raised the cost of supply. Saddlers, tinmen, outfitters, tailors, shoemakers, cutlers, increased their charges till they attained the West-End scale. Boatmen and the amphibious harpies who prey upon the traveller reaped a copper and silver harvest of great weight. It must, however, be said of Malta boatmen, that they are a hardworking, patient, and honest race; the latter adjective is applied comparatively, and not absolutely. They would set our Portsmouth or Southampton boatmen an example rather to be wondered at than followed. The vendors of oranges, dates, olives, apples, and street luxuries of all kinds, enjoyed a full share of public favour; and (a proof of the fine digestive apparatus of our soldiery) their lavish enjoyment of these delicacies was unattended by physical suffering. A thirsty private, after munching the ends of MiniÉ cartridges for an hour on the hot rocks at the seaside, would send to the rear and buy four or five oranges for a penny. He ate them all, trifled with an apple or two afterwards, and, duty over, rushed across the harbour or strutted off to Valetta. A cool cafÉ, shining out on the street with its tarnished gilding and mirrors more radiant than all the taps of all our country inns put together, invited him to enter, and a quantity of alcoholic stimulus was supplied, at the small charge of one penny, quite sufficient to encourage him to spend two-pence more on the same stuff, till he was rendered insensible to all sublunary cares, and brought to a state which was certain to induce him to the attention of the guard and to a raging headache. "I can live like a duke here—I can smoke my cigar, and drink my glass of wine, and what could a duke do more?" But the cigar made by very dirty manufacturers, who might be seen sitting out in the streets compounding them of the leaves of plants and saliva was villanous; and the wine endured much after it had left Sicily. As to the brandy and spirits, they were simply abominable, but the men were soon "choked off" when they found that indulgence in them was followed by punishment worse than that of the black hole or barrack confinement. The biscuit mills were baking 30,000lb. of biscuit per day. Bills posted in every street for "parties desirous of joining the commissariat department, under the orders of Commissary-General Filder, about to proceed with the force to the East, as temporary clerks, assistant store-keepers, interpreters," to "freely apply to Assistant Commissary-General Strickland;" had this significant addition,—"those conversant with English, Italian, modern Greek, and Turkish languages, or the Lingua-Franca of the East will be preferred." Warlike mechanics, armourers, farriers, wheelwrights, waggon-equipment and harness-makers, were in request.

As might naturally be expected where so great a demand, horses were scarcely to be obtained. To Tunis the contagion of high prices spread from Malta, and the Moors asked £25 and £30 for the veriest bundles of skin and bone that were ever fastened together by muscle and pluck. Our allies began to show themselves. The Christophe Colomb, steam-sloop, towing the Mistral, a small sailing transport, laden with 27 soldiers' and 40 officers' horses arrived in Malta Harbour on the night of the 7th, and ran into the Grand Harbour at six A.M. the following morning. On board were Lieutenant-General Canrobert, and his Chef d'État; Major Lieutenant-General Martimprey, 45 officers, 800 soldiers, 150 horses. Their reception was most enthusiastic. The French Generals were lodged at the Palace, and their soldiers were fÊted in every tavern. Reviews were held in their honour, and the air rang with the friendly shouts and answering cheers of "natural enemies".

In a few days after the arrival of the Guards, it became plain that the Allies were to proceed to Turkey, and that hostilities were inevitable. On the 28th March war was declared, but the preparations for it showed that the Government had looked upon war as certain some time previously.

Every exertion was made by the authorities to enable the expedition to take the field. General Ferguson and Admiral Houston Stewart received the expression of the Duke of Newcastle's satisfaction at the manner in which they co-operated in making "the extensive preparations for the reception of the expeditionary force, which could only have been successfully carried on by the absence of needless departmental etiquette,"—a virtue which has been expected to become more common after this official laudation. This expression of satisfaction was well deserved by both these gallant officers, and Sir W. Reid emulated them in his exertions to secure the comfort of the troops. The Admiral early and late worked with his usual energy. He had a modus operandi of making the conditional mood mean the imperative. Soldiers were stowed away in sailors' barracks and penned up in hammocks under its potent influence; and ships were cleared of their freight, or laden with a fresh one, with extraordinary facility.

It was at this time that in a letter to the Times I wrote as follows:—"With our men well clothed, well fed, well housed (whether in camp or town does not much matter), and well attended to, there is little to fear. They were all in the best possible spirits, and fit to go anywhere, and perhaps to do anything. But inaction might bring listlessness and despondency, and in their train follows disease. What is most to be feared in an encampment is an enemy that musket and bayonet cannot meet or repel. Of this the records of the Russo-Turkish campaign of 1828-9, in which 80,000 men perished by 'plague, pestilence, and famine,' afford a fearful lesson, and let those who have the interests of the army at heart just turn to Moltke's history of that miserable invasion, and they will grudge no expense, and spare no precaution, to avoid, as far as human skill can do it, a repetition of such horrors. Let us have plenty of doctors. Let us have an overwhelming army of medical men to combat disease. Let us have a staff—full and strong—of young and active and experienced men. Do not suffer our soldiers to be killed by antiquated imbecility. Do not hand them over to the mercies of ignorant etiquette and effete seniority, but give the sick every chance which skill, energy, and abundance of the best specifics can afford them. The heads of departments may rest assured that the country will grudge no expense on this point, nor on any other connected with the interest and efficiency of the corps d'Élite which England has sent from her shores.[4] There were three first-class staff-surgeons at Constantinople—Messrs. Dumbreck Linton, and Mitchell. At Malta there were—Dr. Burrell, at the head of the department; Dr. Alexander, Dr. Tice, Mr. Smith, and a great accession was expected every day."

The commissariat department appeared to be daily more efficient, and every possible effort was made to secure proper supplies for the troops. This, however, was a matter that could be best tested in the field.

On Tuesday, the 28th of March, the Montezuma, and the Albatross with Chasseurs, Zouaves, and horses, arrived in the Great Harbour. The Zouave was then an object of curiosity. The quarters of the men were not by any means so good as our own. A considerable number had to sleep on deck, and in rain or sea-way they must have been wet. Their kit seemed very light. The officers did not carry many necessaries, and the average weight of their luggage was not more than 50lb. They were all in the highest spirits, and looked forward eagerly to their first brush in company with the English.

Sir George Brown and staff arrived on the 29th in the Valetta. The 2nd Battalion Rifle Brigade, the advance of the Light Division, which Sir George Brown was to command, embarked on board the Golden Fleece. On the 30th, Sir John Burgoyne arrived from Constantinople in the Caradoc.

The Pluton and another vessel arrived with Zouaves and the usual freight of horses the same day, and the streets were full of scarlet and blue uniforms walking arm and arm together in uncommunicative friendliness, their conversation being carried on by signs, such as pointing to their throats and stomachs, to express the primitive sensations of hunger and thirst. The French sailed the following day for Gallipoli.

When the declaration of war reached Malta, the excitement was indescribable. Crowds assembled on the shores of the harbours and lined the quays and landing-places, the crash of music drowned in the enthusiastic cheers of the soldiers cheering their comrades as the vessels glided along, the cheers from one fort being taken up by the troops in the others, and as joyously responded to from those on board.

CHAPTER II.

Whilst the French were rapidly moving to Gallipoli, the English were losing the prestige which might have been earned by a first appearance on the stage, as well as the substantial advantages of an occupation of the town. But on 30th March Sir George Brown and Staff, the 2nd Battalion of the Rifle Brigade, under Lt. Colonel Lawrence, Colonel Victor, R.E., Captain Gibb, R.E., and two companies of Sappers, embarked in the Golden Fleece, and a cabin having been placed at my disposal, I embarked and sailed with them for Gallipoli, at five A.M. on 31st.

An early fisherman, a boatman in the Great Harbour, solitary sentinels perched here and there on the long lines of white bastions, were the only persons who saw the departure of the advanced guard of the only British expedition that has ever sailed to the land of the Moslem since the days of the great Plantagenet. The morning was dark and overcast. The Mediterranean assumed an indigo colour, stippled with patches of white foam, as heavy squalls of wind and drenching rain flew over its surface. The showers were tropical in their vehemence and suddenness. Nothing was visible except some wretched-looking gulls flapping in our wake hour after hour in the hope of unintentional contributions from the ship, and two or three dilapidated coasters running as hard as they could for the dangerous shelter of the land. Jason himself and his crew could scarcely have looked more uncomfortable than the men, though there was small resemblance indeed between the cruiser in which he took his passage and the Golden Fleece. "It all comes of sailing on a Friday," said a grumbling forecastle Jack.

The anticipations of the tarry prophet were not fully justified. Towards evening the sky cleared, the fine sharp edge of the great circle of waters of which we were the black murky centre, revealed itself, and the sun rushed out of his coat of cumuli, all bright and fervent, and sank to rest in a sea of fire. Even the gulls brightened up and began to look comfortable, and the sails of the flying craft, far away on the verge of the landscape, shone white. The soldiers dried their coats, and tried to forget sloppy decks and limited exercise ground, and night closed round the ship with peace and hilarity on her wings. As the moon rose a wonder appeared in the heavens—"a blazing comet with a fiery tail," which covered five or six degrees of the horizon, and shone through the deep blue above. Here was the old world-known omen of war and troubles! Many as they gazed felt the influence of ancient tales and associated the lurid apparition with the convulsion impending over Europe, though Mr. Hind and Professor Airy and Sir J. South might have proved to demonstration that the comet aforesaid was born or baptized in space hundreds of centuries before Prince Menschikoff was thought of.

At last the comet was lost in the moon's light, and the gazers put out their cigars, forgot their philosophy and their fears, and went to bed. The next day, Saturday (1st April), passed as most days do at sea in smooth weather. The men ate and drank, and walked on deck till they were able to eat and drink again, and so on till bed time. Curious little brown owls, as if determined to keep up the traditions of the neighbourhood, flew on board, and were caught in the rigging. They seemed to come right from the land of Minerva. In the course of the day small birds fluttered on the yards, masts, and bulwarks, plumed their jaded wings, and after a short rest launched themselves once more across the bosom of the deep. Some were common titlarks, others greyish buntings, others yellow and black fellows. Three of the owls and a titlark were at once introduced to each other in a cage, and the ship's cat was thrown in by way of making an impromptu "happy family." The result rather increased one's admiration for the itinerant zoologist of Trafalgar-square and Waterloo Bridge, inasmuch as pussy obstinately refused to hold any communication with the owls—they seemed in turn to hate each other—and all evinced determined animosity towards the unfortunate titlark, which speedily languished and died.

This and the following day there was a head wind. No land appeared, and the only object to be seen was a French paddle-wheel steamer with troops on board and a transport in tow, which was conjectured to be one of those that had left Malta some days previously. After dinner, when the band had ceased playing, the Sappers assembled on the quarter-deck, and sang glees excellently well, while the Rifles had a select band of vocal performers of their own of comic and sentimental songs. Some of these, À propos of the expedition, were rather hard on the Guards and their bearskins. At daylight the coast was visible N. by E.—a heavy cloudlike line resting on the grey water. It was the Morea—the old land of the Messenians. If not greatly changed, it is wonderful what attractions it could have had for the Spartans. A more barren-looking coast one need not wish to see. It is like a section of the west coast of Sutherland in winter. The mountains—cold, rocky, barren ridges of land—culminate in snow-covered peaks, and the numerous villages of white cabins or houses dotting the declivity towards the sea did not relieve the place of an air of savage primitiveness, which little consorted with its ancient fame. About 9.40 A.M. we passed Cape Matapan, which concentrated in itself all the rude characteristics of the surrounding coast. We passed between the Morea and Cerigo. One could not help wondering what on earth could have possessed Venus to select such a wretched rock for her island home. Verily the poets have much to answer for. Not the boldest would have dared to fly into ecstasies about the terrestrial landing-place of Venus had he once beheld the same. The fact is, the place is like Ireland's Eye, pulled out and expanded. Although the whole reputation of the Cape was not sustained by our annihilation, the sea showed every inclination to be troublesome, and the wind began to rise.

After breakfast the men were mustered, and the captain read prayers. When prayers were over, we had a proof that the Greeks were tolerably right about the weather. Even bolder boatmen than the ancients might fear the heavy squalls off these snowy headlands, which gave a bad idea of sunny Greece in early spring. Their writers represented the performance of a voyage round Capes Matapan and Malea as attended with danger; and, if the best of triremes was caught in the breeze encountered by the Golden Fleece hereabouts, the crew would never have been troubled to hang up a votive tablet to their preserving deity.

From 10 o'clock till 3.30 P.M. the ship ran along the diameter of the semicircle between the two Capes which mark the southern extremities of Greece. Cape Malea, or St. Angelo, is just such another bluff, mountainous, and desolate headland as Cape Matapan, and is not so civilized-looking, for there are no villages visible near it. However, in a hole on its south-east face resides a Greek hermit, who must have enormous opportunities for improving his mind, if Zimmerman be at all trustworthy. He is not quite lost to the calls of nature, and has a great tenderness for ships' biscuit. He generally hoists a little flag when a vessel passes near, and is often gratified by a supply of hard-bake. Had we wished to administer to his luxuries we could not have done so, for the wind off this angle rushed at us with fury, and the instant we rounded it we saw the sea broken into crests of foam making right at our bows. The old mariners were not without warranty when they advised "him who doubled Cape Malea to forget his home." We had got right into the Etesian wind—one of those violent Levanters which the learned among us said ought to be the Euroclydon which drove St. Paul to Malta. Sheltered as we were to eastward by clusters of little islands, the sea got up and rolled in confused wedges towards the ship. She behaved nobly, but with her small auxiliary steam power she could scarcely hold her own. We were driven away to leeward, and did not make much headway. The gusts came down furiously between all kinds of classical islands, which we could not make out, for our Maltese pilot got frightened, and revealed the important secret that he did not know one of them from the other. The men bore up well against their Euroclydon, and emulated the conduct of the ship. Night came upon us, labouring in black jolting seas, dashing them into white spray, and running away into dangerous unknown parts. It passed songless, dark, and uncomfortable: much was the suffering in the hermetically sealed cells in which our officers "reposed" and grumbled at fortune.

At daylight next morning, Falconero was north, and Milo south. The clouds were black and low, the sea white and high, and the junction between them on the far horizon of a broken and promiscuous character. The good steamer had run thirty miles to leeward of her course, making not the smallest progress. Grey islets with foam flying over them lay around indistinctly seen through the driving vapour from the Ægean. To mistrust of the pilot fear of accident was added, so the helm was put up, and we wore ship at 6.30 A.M. in a heavy sea-way. A screw-steamer was seen on our port quarter plunging through the heavy sea, and we made her out to be the Cape of Good Hope. She followed our example. The gale increased till 8 A.M.; the sailors considered it deserved to be called "stormy, with heavy squalls." The heavy sea on our starboard quarter, as we approached Malea, caused the ship to roll heavily; the men could only hold on by tight grip, and they and their officers were well drenched by great lumbering water louts, who tossed themselves in over the bulwarks. At 3.30 P.M., the ship cast anchor in Vatika Bay, in twenty fathoms. A French steamer and brig lay close in the shore. We cheered them vigorously, but the men could not hear us. Some time afterwards the Cape of Good Hope and a French screw-steamer also ran in and anchored near us. This little flotilla alarmed the inhabitants, for the few who were fishing in boats fled to shore, and we saw a great effervescence at a distant village. No doubt the apparition in the bay of a force flying the tricolor and the union-jack frightened the people. They could be seen running to and fro along the shore like ants when their nest is stirred.

At dusk our bands played, and the mountains of the Morea, for the first time since they rose from the sea, echoed the strains of "God save the Queen." Our vocalists assembled, and sang glees or vigorous choruses, and the night passed pleasantly in smooth water on an even keel. The people lighted bonfires upon the hills, but the lights soon died out. At six o'clock on Tuesday morning the Golden Fleece left Vatika Bay, and passed Poulo Bello at 10.45 A.M. The Greek coast trending away to the left, showed in rugged masses of mountains capped by snowy peaks, and occasionally the towns—clusters of white specks on the dark purple of the hills—were visible; and before evening, the ship having run safely through all the terrors of the Ægean and its islands, bore away for the entrance to the Dardanelles. At 2 A.M. on Wednesday morning, however, it began to blow furiously again, the wind springing up as if "Æolus had just opened and put on fresh hands at the bellows," to use the nautical simile. The breeze, however, went down in a few hours, with the same rapidity with which it rose. Smooth seas greeted the ship as she steamed by Mitylene. On the left lay the entrance to the Gulf of Athens—Euboea was on our left hand—Tenedos was before us—on our right rose the snowy heights of Mount Ida—and the Troad (atrociously and unforgivably like the "Bog of Allen!") lay stretching its brown folds, dotted with rare tumuli, from the sea to the mountain side for leagues away. Athos (said to be ninety miles distant) stood between us and the setting sun—a pyramid of purple cloud bathed in golden light; and the Leander frigate showed her number and went right away in the very waters that lay between Sestos and Abydos, past the shadow of the giant mountain, stretching away on our port beam. As the vessel entered the portals of the Dardanelles, and rushed swiftly up between its dark banks, the sentinels on the forts and along the ridges challenged loudly—shouting to each other to be on the alert—the band of the Rifles all the while playing the latest fashionable polkas, or making the rocks acquainted with "Rule Britannia," and "God save the Queen."

At 9.30 P.M., our ship passed the Castles of the Dardanelles. She was not stopped nor fired at, but the sentinels screeched horribly and showed lights, and seemed to execute a convulsive pas of fright or valour on the rocks. The only reply was the calm sounding of second post on the bugles—the first time that the blast of English light infantry trumpets broke the silence of those antique shores.[5]

After midnight we arrived at Gallipoli, and anchored. No one took the slightest notice of us, nor was any communication made with shore. When the Golden Fleece arrived there was no pilot to show her where to anchor, and it was nearly an hour ere she ran out her cable in nineteen fathoms water. No one came off, for it was after midnight, and there was something depressing in this silent reception of the first British army that ever landed on the shores of these straits.

When morning came we only felt sorry that nature had made Gallipoli, a desirable place for us to land at. The tricolor was floating right and left, and the blue coats of the French were well marked on shore, the long lines of bullock-carts stealing along the strand towards their camp making it evident that they were taking care of themselves.

Take some hundreds of dilapidated farms, outhouses, a lot of rickety tenements of Holywell-street, Wych-street, and the Borough—catch up, wherever you can, any of the seedy, cracked, shutterless structures of planks and tiles to be seen in our cathedral towns—carry off odd sheds and stalls from Billingsgate, add to them a selection of the huts along the Thames between London-bridge and Greenwich—bring them, then, all together to the European side of the Straits of the Dardanelles, and having pitched on a bare round hill sloping away to the water's edge, on the most exposed portion of the coast, with scarcely tree or shrub, tumble them "higgledy piggledy" on its declivity, in such wise that the lines of the streets may follow on a large scale the lines of a bookworm through some old tome—let the roadways be very narrow, of irregular breadth, varying according to the bulgings and projections of the houses, and paved with large round slippery stones, painful and hazardous to walk upon—here and there borrow a dirty gutter from a back street in Boulogne—let the houses lean across to each other so that the tiles meet, or a plank thrown across forms a sort of "passage" or arcade—steal some of the popular monuments of London, the shafts of national testimonials, a half dozen of Irish Round Towers—surround these with a light gallery about twelve feet from the top, put on a large extinguisher-shaped roof, paint them white, and having thus made them into minarets, clap them down into the maze of buildings—then let fall big stones all over the place—plant little windmills with odd-looking sails on the crests of the hill over the town—transport the ruins of a feudal fortress from Northern Italy, and put it into the centre of the town, with a flanking tower at the water's edge—erect a few wooden cribs by the waterside to serve as cafÉ, custom-house, and government stores—and, when you have done this, you have to all appearance imitated the process by which Gallipoli was created. The receipt, if tried, will be found to answer beyond belief.

To fill up the scene, however, you must catch a number of the biggest breeched, longest bearded, dirtiest, and stateliest old Turks to be had at any price in the Ottoman empire; provide them with pipes, keep them smoking all day on wooden stages or platforms about two feet from the ground, everywhere by the water's edge or up the main streets, in the shops of the bazaar which is one of the "passages" or arcades already described; see that they have no slippers on, nothing but stout woollen hose, their foot gear being left on the ground, shawl turbans (one or two being green, for the real descendant of the Prophet), flowing fur-lined coats, and bright-hued sashes, in which are to be stuck silver-sheathed yataghans and ornamented Damascus pistols; don't let them move more than their eyes, or express any emotion at the sight of anything except an English lady; then gather a noisy crowd of fez-capped Greeks in baggy blue breeches, smart jackets, sashes, and rich vests—of soberly-dressed Armenians—of keen-looking Jews, with flashing eyes—of Chasseurs de Vincennes, Zouaves, British riflemen, vivandiÈres, Sappers and Miners, Nubian slaves, Camel-drivers, Commissaries and Sailors, and direct them in streams round the little islets on which the smoking Turks are harboured, and you will populate the place.

It will be observed that women are not mentioned in this description, but children were not by any means wanting—on the contrary, there was a glut of them, in the Greek quarter particularly, and now and then a bundle of clothes, in yellow leather boots, covered at the top with a piece of white linen, might be seen moving about, which you will do well to believe contained a woman neither young nor pretty. Dogs, so large, savage, tailless, hairy, and curiously-shaped, that Wombwell could make a fortune out of them if aided by any clever zoological nomenclator, prowled along the shore and walked through the shallow water, in which stood bullocks and buffaloes, French steamers and transports, with the tricolor flying, and the paddlebox boats full of troops on their way to land—a solitary English steamer, with the red ensign, at anchor in the bay—and Greek polaccas, with their beautiful white sails and trim rig, flying down the straits, which are here about three and a half miles broad, so that the villages on the rich swelling hills of the Asia Minor side are plainly visible,—must be added, and then the picture will be tolerably complete.

In truth, Gallipoli is a wretched place—picturesque to a degree, but, like all picturesque things or places, horribly uncomfortable. The breadth of the Dardanelles is about five miles opposite the town, but the Asiatic and the European coasts run towards each other just ere the Straits expand into the Sea of Marmora. The country behind the town is hilly, and at the time of our arrival had not recovered from the effects of the late very severe weather, being covered with patches of snow. Gallipoli is situated on the narrowest portion of the tongue of land or peninsula which, running between the Gulf of Saros on the west and the Dardanelles on the east, forms the western side of the strait. An army encamped here commands the Ægean and the Sea of Marmora, and can be marched northwards to the Balkan, or sent across to Asia or up to Constantinople with equal facility.

As the crow flies, it is about 120 miles from Constantinople across the Sea of Marmora. If the capital were in danger, troops could be sent there in a few days, and our army and fleet effectually commanded the Dardanelles and the entrance to the Sea of Marmora, and made it a mare clausum. Enos, a small town, on a spit of land opposite the mouth of the Maritza, on the coast of Turkey to the north-east of Samothrace, was surveyed and examined for an encampment by French and English engineers. It is obvious that if some daring Muscovite general forcing the passage across the Danube were to beat the Turks and cross the western ridges of the Balkans, he might advance southwards with very little hindrance to the Ægean; and a dashing march to the south-east would bring his troops to the western shore of the Dardanelles. An army at Gallipoli could check such a movement, if it ever entered into the head of any one to attempt to put it in practice.

Early on the morning after the arrival of the Golden Fleece a boat came off with two commissariat officers, Turner and Bartlett, and an interpreter. The consul had gone up the Dardanelles to look for us. The General desired to send for the Consul, but the only vessel available was a small Turkish Imperial steamer. The Consul's dragoman, a grand-looking Israelite, was ready to go, but the engineer had just managed to break his leg. He requested the loan of our engineer, as no one could be found to undertake the care of the steamer's engines.

After breakfast, Lieutenant-General Brown, Colonel Sullivan, Captain Hallewell, and Captain Whitmore, started to visit the Pasha of Adrianople (Rustum Pasha), who was sent here to facilitate the arrangements and debarkation of the troops. On their return, about half-past two o'clock, Lieutenant-General Canrobert came on board the vessel, and was received by the Lieutenant-General. The visit lasted an hour, and was marked at its close with greater cordiality, if possible, than at the commencement.

In the evening the Consul, Mr. Calvert, came on board, when it turned out that no instructions whatever had been sent to prepare for the reception of the force, except that two commissariat officers, without interpreters or staff, had been dispatched to the town a few days before the troops landed. These officers could not speak the language. However, the English Consul was a man of energy. Mr. Calvert went to the Turkish Governor, and succeeded in having half of the quarters in the town reserved. Next day he visited and marked off the houses; but the French authorities said they had made a mistake as to the portion of the town they had handed over to him. They had the Turkish part of the town close to the water, with an honest and favourable population; the English had the Greek quarter, further up the hill, and perhaps the healthier, and a population which hated them bitterly.

Sir George Brown arrived on Wednesday, the 5th of April, but it was midday on Saturday the 8th, ere the troops were landed and sent to their quarters. The force consisted of only some thousand and odd men, and it had to lie idle for two days and a half watching the seagulls, or with half averted eye regarding the ceaseless activity of the French, the daily arrival of their steamers, the rapid transmission of their men to shore. On our side not a British pendant was afloat in the harbour! Well might a Turkish boatman ask, "Oh, why is this? Oh, why is this, Chelebee? By the beard of the Prophet, for the sake of your father's father, tell me, O English Lord, how is it? The French infidels have got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven ships, with fierce little soldiers; the English infidels, who say they can defile the graves of these French (may Heaven avert it!), and who are big as the giants of Asli, have only one big ship. Do they tell lies?" (Such was the translation given to me of my interesting waterman's address.)

The troops were disembarked in the course of the day, and marched out to encamp, eight miles and a half north of Gallipoli, at a place called Bulair. The camp was occupied by the Rifles and Sappers and Miners, within three miles of the village. It was seated on a gentle slope of the ridge which runs along the isthmus, and commanded a view of the Gulf of Saros, but the Sea of Marmora was not visible. Sanitary and certain other considerations may have rendered it advisable not to select this village itself, or some point closer to it, as the position for the camp; but the isthmus was narrower at Bulair, could be more easily defended, would not have required so much time or labour to put it into a good state of defence, and appeared to be better adapted for an army as regards shelter and water than the position chosen. Bulair is ten and a half miles from Gallipoli, so the camp was about seven and a half from the port at which its supplies were landed, and where its reinforcements arrived.

On Thursday there was a general hunt for quarters through the town. The General got a very fine place in a beau quartier, with a view of an old Turk on a counter looking at his toes in perpetual perspective. The consul, attended by the dragoman and a train of lodging seekers, went from house to house; but it was not till the eye had got accustomed to the general style of the buildings and fittings that any of them seemed willing to accept the places offered them. The hall door, which is an antiquated concern—not affording any particular resistance to the air to speak of—opens on an apartment with clay walls about ten feet high, and of the length and breadth of the whole house. It is garnished with the odds and ends of the domestic deity—empty barrels, casks of home-made wine, buckets, baskets, &c. At one side a rough staircase, creaking at every step, conducts one to a saloon on the first floor. This is of the plainest possible appearance. On the sides are stuck prints of the "Nicolaus ho basileus," of the Virgin and Child, and engravings from Jerusalem. The Greeks are iconoclasts, and hate images, but they adore pictures. A yellow Jonah in a crimson whale with fiery entrails is a favourite subject, and doubtless bears some allegorical meaning to their own position in Turkey. From this saloon open the two or three rooms of the house—the kitchen, the divan, and the principal bedroom. There is no furniture. The floors are covered with matting, but with the exception of the cushions on the raised platform round the wall of the room (about eighteen inches from the floor), there is nothing else in the rooms offered for general competition to the public. Above are dark attics. In such a lodging as this, in the house of the widow Papadoulos, was I at last established to do the best I could without servant or equipment.

Water was some way off, and I might have been seen stalking up the street with as much dignity as was compatible with carrying a sheep's liver on a stick in one hand, some lard in the other, and a loaf of black bread under my arm back from market. There was not a pound of butter in the whole country, meat was very scarce, fowls impossible; but the country wine was fair enough, and eggs were not so rare as might be imagined from the want of poultry.

While our sick men had not a mattress to lie down upon, and were without blankets, the French were well provided for. No medical comforts were forwarded from Malta,—and so when a poor fellow was sinking the doctor had to go to the General's and get a bottle of wine for him. The hospital sergeant was sent out with a sovereign to buy coffee, sugar, and other things of the kind for the sick, but he could not get them, as no change was to be had in the place. In the French hospital everything requisite was nicely made up in small packages and marked with labels, so that what was wanted might be procured in a minute.

The French Commandant de Place posted a tariff of all articles which the men were likely to want on the walls of the town, and regulated the exchanges like a local Rothschild. A Zouave wanted a fowl; he saw one in the hand of an itinerant poultry merchant, and he at once seized the bird, and giving the proprietor a franc—the tariff price—walked off with the prize. The Englishman, on the contrary, more considerate and less protected, was left to make hard bargains, and generally paid twenty or twenty-five per cent. more than his ally. These Zouaves were first-rate foragers. They might be seen in all directions, laden with eggs, meat, fish, vegetables (onions), and other good things, while our fellows could get nothing. Sometimes a servant was sent out to cater for breakfast or dinner: he returned with the usual "Me and the Colonel's servant has been all over the town, and can get nothing but eggs and onions, Sir;" and lo! round the corner appeared a red-breeched Zouave or Chasseur, a bottle of wine under his left arm, half a lamb under the other, and poultry, fish, and other luxuries dangling round him. "I'm sure I don't know how these French manages it, Sir," said the crestfallen Mercury, retiring to cook the eggs.

The French established a restaurant for their officers, and at the "Auberge de l'ArmÉe Expeditionnaire," close to General Bosquet's quarters, one could get a dinner which, after the black bread and eggs of the domestic hearth, appeared worthy of Philippe.

There seemed to be a general impression among the French soldiers that it would be some time ere they left Gallipoli or the Chersonese. They were in military occupation of the place. The tricolor floated from the old tower of Gallipoli. The cafÉ had been turned into an office—Direction du Port et Commissariat de la Marine. French soldiers patrolled the town at night, and kept the soldiery of both armies in order; of course, we sent out a patrol also, but the regulations of the place were directly organized at the French head-quarters, and even the miserable house which served as our Trois FrÈres, or London Tavern, and where one could get a morsel of meat and a draught of country wine for dinner, was under their control. A notice on the walls of this Restaurant de l'ArmÉe Auxiliaire informed the public that, par ordre de la police FranÇaise, no person would be admitted after seven o'clock in the evening. In spite of their strict regulations there was a good deal of drunkenness among the French soldiery, though perhaps it was not in excess of our proportion, considering the numbers of both armies. They had fourgons for the commissariat, and all through their quarter of the town one might see the best houses occupied by their officers. On one door was inscribed Magasin des Liquides, on another Magasin des Distributions. M. l'Aumonier de l'ArmÉe FranÇaise resides on one side of the street; l'Intendant GÉnÉral, &c., on the other. Opposite the commissariat stores a score or two of sturdy Turks worked away at neat little hand-mills marked Moulin de CafÉ—Subsistence Militaire. No. A., Compagnie B., &c., and roasting the beans in large rotatory ovens; the place selected for the operation being a burial-ground, the turbaned tombstones of which seemed to frown severely on the degenerate posterity of the Osmanli. In fact, the French appear to have acted uniformly on the sentiment conveyed in the phrase of one of their officers, in reply to a remark about the veneration in which the Turks hold the remains of the dead—"Mais il faut rectifier tous ces prÉjuges et barbarismes!"

The greatest cordiality existed between the chiefs of the armies. Sir George Brown and some of his staff dined one day with General Canrobert; another day with General Martimprey; another day the drowsy shores of the Dardanelles were awakened by the thunders of the French cannon saluting him as he went on board Admiral Bruat's flagship to accept the hospitalities of the naval commander; and then on alternate days the dull old alleys of Gallipoli were brightened up by an apparition of these officers and their staffs in full uniform, clanking their spurs and jingling their sabres over the excruciating rocks which form the pavement as they proceeded on their way to the humble quarters of "Sir Brown," to sit at return banquets.

The natives preferred the French uniform to ours. In their sight there can be no more effeminate object than a warrior in a shell jacket, with closely-shaven chin and lip and cropped whiskers. He looks, in fact, like one of their dancing troops, and cuts a sorry figure beside a great Gaul in his blazing red pantaloons and padded frock, epaulettes, beard d'Afrique, and well-twisted moustache. The pashas think much of our men, but they are not struck with our officers. The French made an impression quite the reverse. The Turks could see nothing in the men, except that they thought the Zouaves and Chasseurs IndigÈnes dashing-looking fellows; but they considered their officers superior to ours in all but exact discipline. One day, as a man of the 4th was standing quietly before the door of the English Consulate, with a horse belonging to an officer of his regiment, some drunken French soldiers came reeling up the street; one of them kicked the horse, and caused it to rear violently; and, not content with doing so, struck it on the head as he passed. Several French officers witnessed this scene, and one of them exclaimed, "Why did not you cut the brigand over the head with your whip when he struck the horse?" The Englishman was not a master of languages, and did not understand the question. When it was explained to him, he said with the most sovereign contempt, "Lord forbid I'd touch sich a poor drunken little baste of a crayture as that!"

The Turkish Commission had a troublesome time of it. All kinds of impossible requisitions were made to them every moment. Osman Bey, Eman Bey, and Kabouli Effendi, formed the martyred triumvirate, who were kept in a state of unnatural activity and excitement by the constant demands of the officers of the allied armies for all conceivable stores, luxuries, and necessaries for the troops, as well as for other things over which they had no control. One man had a complaint against an unknown Frenchman for beating his servant—another wanted them to get lodgings for him—a third wished them to send a cavass with self and friends on a shooting excursion—in fact, very unreasonable and absurd requests were made to these poor gentlemen, who could scarcely get through their legitimate work, in spite of the aid of numberless pipes and cups of coffee. One of the medical officers went to make a requisition for hospital accommodation, and got through the business very well. When it was over, the President descended from the divan. In the height of his delusions respecting Oriental magnificence and splendour, led away by reminiscences of "Tales of the Genii" and the "Arabian Nights," the reader must not imagine that this divan was covered with cloth of gold, or glittering with precious stones. It was clad in a garb of honest Manchester print, with those remarkable birds of prey or pleasure, in green and yellow plumage, depicted thereupon, familiar to us from our earliest days. The council chamber was a room of lath and plaster, with whitewashed walls; its sole furniture a carpet in the centre, the raised platform or divan round its sides, and a few chairs for the Franks. The President advanced gravely to the great Hakim, and through the interpreter made him acquainted with particulars of a toothache, for which he desired a remedy. The doctor insinuated that His Highness must have had a cold in the head, from which the symptoms had arisen, and the diagnosis was thought so wonderful it was communicated to the other members of the Council, and produced a marked sensation. When he had ordered a simple prescription he was consulted by the other members in turn: one had a sore chin, the other had weak eyes; and the knowledge evinced by the doctor of these complaints excited great admiration and confidence, so that he departed, after giving some simple prescriptions, amid marks of much esteem and respect.

Djemel Pasha, who commanded the pashalic of the Dardanelles, was a very enlightened Turk, and possessed a fund of information and a grasp of intellect not at all common among his countrymen, even in the most exalted stations. He was busily engaged on a work on the constitution of Turkey, in which he proposed to remodel the existing state of things completely. He had been much struck by the notion of an hereditary aristocracy, which he considered very suitable for Turkey, and was fascinated by our armorial bearings and mottoes, as he thought them calculated to make members of a family act in such a way as to sustain the reputation of their ancestors. Talking of the intended visit of the Sultan to Adrianople, he said, one day, that it was mere folly. If the Sultan went as his martial ancestors—surrounded by his generals—to take the command of his armies and share the privations of his soldiers, he granted it would be productive of good, and inflame the ardour of his soldiery; but it would produce no beneficial result to visit Adrianople with a crowded Court, and would only lead to a vast outlay of money in repairing the old palace for his reception, and in conveying his officers of State, his harem, and his horses and carriages to a city which had ceased to be fit for an imperial residence. He was very much of the opinion of General Canrobert, who, at the close of a splendid reception by the pashas, at Constantinople, in which pipes mounted with diamonds and begemmed coffee-cups were handed about by a numerous retinue, said, "I am much obliged by your attention, but you will forgive me for saying I should be much better pleased if all these diamonds and gold were turned into money to pay your troops, and if you sent away all these servants of yours, except two or three, to fight against your enemy!" Djemel Pasha declared there could be no good in tanzimats or in new laws, unless steps were taken to carry them out and administer them. The pashas in distant provinces would never give them effect until they were forced to do so, and therefore it will be necessary, in his opinion, to have the ambassadors of the great Powers admitted as members of the Turkish Council of State for some years, in order that these reforms may be productive of good. The Koran he considered as little suitable to be the basis and textbook of civil law now in Turkey, as the Old Testament would be in England. It will be long indeed ere the doctrines of this enlightened Turk prevail among his countrymen, and when they do the Osmanlis will have ceased to be a nation. The prejudices of the true believers were but little shaken by these events. The genuine old green-turbaned Turk viewed our intervention with suspicion, and attributed our polluting presence on his soil to interested motives, which aim at the overthrow of the Faith. This was seen in their leaden eyes as they fell on one through the clouds of tobacco-smoke from the khans or cafÉs. You are still a giaour, whom Mahomet has forced into his service, but care must be taken that you do not gain any advantage at the hands of the faithful.

In the English general orders the greatest stress was laid on treating the Turks with proper respect, and both officers and men were strictly enjoined to pay every deference to "the most ancient and faithful of our allies." The soldiers appeared to act in strict conformity with the spirit of these instructions. They bought everything they wanted, but on going for a walk into the country one might see the fields dotted by stragglers from the French camp, tearing up hedgestakes, vines, and sticks for fuel, and looking out generally with eyes wide open for the pot À feu.

With the exception of the vivandiÈres, the French brought no women whatever with them. The Malta authorities had the egregious folly to send out ninety-seven women in the "Georgiana" to this desolate and miserable place, where men were hard set to live. This indiscretion was not repeated.

The camps in the neighbourhood of Gallipoli extended every day, and with the augmentation of the allied forces, the privations to which the men were exposed became greater, the inefficiency of our arrangements more evident, and the comparative excellence of the French commissariat administration more striking. Amid the multitude of complaints which met the ear from every side, the most prominent were charges against the British commissariat; but the officers at Gallipoli were not to blame. The persons really culpable were those who sent them out without a proper staff, and without the smallest foresight. Early and late these officers might be seen toiling amid a set of apathetic Turks and stupid araba drivers, trying in vain to make bargains and give orders in the language of signs, or aided by interpreters who understood neither the language of the contractor nor contractee. And then the officers of a newly-arrived regiment rushed on shore, demanded bullock-carts for the luggage, guides, interpreters, rations, &c., till the unfortunate commissary became quite bewildered. There were only four commissary officers, Turner, Bartlett, Thompson, and Smith, and they were obliged to get on as well as they could with the natives.

The worst thing was the want of comforts for the sick. Many of the men labouring under diseases contracted at Malta were obliged to camp in the cold, with only one blanket, as there was no provision for them at the temporary hospital. Mr. Alexander succeeded in getting hold of some hundreds of blankets by taking on himself the responsibility of giving a receipt for them, and taking them off the hands of the commanding officer of one of the regiments from Malta. This responsibility is a horrid bugbear, but no man is worth his salt who does not boldly incur it whenever he thinks the service is to be benefited thereby. It would be lucky if more people had a supply of desirable recklessness, and things would have gone on much better.

Regiments arrived daily, and encamped near the town. The 4th, 28th, 50th, 93rd, and 2nd Battalion Rifle Brigade were stationed between Bulair and Gallipoli. The 33rd, 41st, 49th, 77th, and 88th, lay in Scutari or in the adjoining barracks.

The French poured in their troops. Towards the end of April they had 22,000 men in the neighbourhood of Gallipoli, and the narrow streets were almost impassable. The Zouaves, from their picturesque costume, quite threw our men in the shade—all but their heads and shoulders, which rose in unmistakable broadness above the fez caps of their Gallic allies. Even the Zouaves yielded the prize of effectiveness to the Chasseurs IndigÈnes, or French Sepoys. These troops wore a white turban, loose powder-blue jackets, faced and slashed with yellow, embroidered vests with red sashes, and blue breeches extremely wide and loose, so that they looked like kilts, falling to the knees, where they were confined by a band; the calf of the leg encased in greaves of yellow leather with black stripes; and white gaiters, falling from the ankle over the shoe.

Long strings of camels laden with skins of wine, raki, and corn, might be seen stalking along the dusty roads and filing through the dingy bazaar, and wild-looking countrymen with droves of little shaggy ponies trooped in hour after hour to sell the produce they carried and the beasts that bore it. Instead of piastres, they began to demand lire, shillings, pounds, and Napoleons, and displayed ingenuity in the art of selling horses and doctoring them that would have done honour to Yorkshiremen. The coarse brown bread of the country was to be had at the bakers' shops early in the morning by those who were not so fortunate as to have rations, and after a little preparatory disgust was not quite uneatable. Wine, formerly two or three piastres (4d. or 5d.) a bottle, soon sold for 1s. 6d. or 2s. Meat was bad and dear, the beef being very like coarse mahogany; the mutton was rather better, but very lean. Eggs were becoming scarce and dear, in consequence of the razzias of the army on the producing powers. Milk was an article of the highest luxury, and only to be seen on the tables of the great; and the sole attempt at butter was rancid lard packed in strong-smelling camel's-hair bags. It was really wonderful that no Englishman had sufficient enterprise to go out to Gallipoli with a stock of creature comforts and camp necessaries. One man set up a shop, at which bad foreign beer was sold as English ale at 1s. 6d. a bottle; a hard little old Yankee ham fetched about 20s.; brandy was very dear, scarce, and bad; bacon was not to be had, except by great good fortune and large outlay; and Dutch cheeses were selling at 8s. each. A stock of saddlery would have been at once bought up at very remunerating rates to the importer; and there was scarcely an article of common use in England which could not have been disposed of at a very considerable profit.

As change was very scarce, there was great difficulty in obtaining articles of small value, and a sum of 19s. was occasionally made up in piastres, half-piastres, gold pieces of 5, 10, 20, and 50 piastres each, francs, soldi, lire, halfpence, sixpences, and zwanzigers, collected at several shops up and down the street. Let the reader imagine Mr. John Robinson, Patrick Casey, or Saunders Macpherson of Her Majesty's 50th Regiment, suddenly plunged into such a mass of cheats and sharpers, who combine the avidity of the Jew with the subtlety of the Greek, and trying to purchase some little article of necessity or luxury with his well-saved sovereign, and he can guess how he would suffer. "I expect at last they'll give me a handful of wafers for a sovereign," said a disconsolate sapper one day, as he gazed on the dirty equivalent for a piece of English gold which he had received from an Israelite. Towards evening, when raki and wine had done their work, the crowds became more social and turbulent, and English and French might be seen engaged in assisting each other to preserve the perpendicular, or toiling off to their camps laden with bags of coffee, sugar, and rice, and large bottles of wine. At sunset patrols cleared the streets, taking up any intoxicated stragglers they might find there or in the cafÉs, and when the brief twilight had passed away the whole town was left in silence and in darkness, except when the barking and yelping of the innumerable dogs which infested it woke up the echoes, and now and then the challenge of a distant sentry or the trumpet-calls of the camp fell on the ear.

The Lieutenant-General was determined to secure efficiency according to the light that was in him. If Sir George Brown had his way, Rowland, Oldridge, and the whole race of bears'-grease manufacturers and pomade merchants would have scant grace and no profit. His hatred of hair amounted to almost a mania. "Where there is hair there is dirt, and where there is dirt there will be disease." That was an axiom on which was founded a vigorous war against all capillary adornments. Stocks were ordered to be kept up, stiff as ever. The General would not allow the little black pouches hitherto worn on the belt by officers. They are supposed to carry no pockets, and are not to open their shell jackets; and the question they ask is, "Does the General think we are to have no money?" But the order which gave the greatest dissatisfaction was that each officer must carry his own tent. They were warned to provide mules for that purpose, and to carry their baggage, but mules were not to be had at any price. For close shaving, tight stocking, and light marching, Lieut.-General Sir George Brown was not to be excelled. A kinder man to the soldiers, or one who looked more to their rights, never lived, and no "but" need be added to this praise.

CHAPTER III.

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.

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 5½ 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.

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.

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.

CHAPTER IV.

The Duke of Cambridge arrived in the Caradoc at 3 P.M. on Tuesday, the 6th. Marshal St. Arnaud arrived at Gallipoli on Sunday, the 7th of May. On May 9th, the Rifle Brigade and 93rd Regiment left Gallipoli for Scutari. Sir George Brown and staff also departed, leaving the force encamped under the command of Sir Richard England, with Brigadiers Sir J. Campbell and Eyre; Major Colborne and Captain Hallewell, Deputy Assistant Quarter-Master-Generals; Colonel Doyle, Assistant Adjutant-General; Brigade-Major Hope; Brigade-Major Wood, &c. In a few days I bade good-bye to Gallipoli, and proceeded to Scutari, where I remained in quarters for some days, but finally took up my abode at Messurir Hotel, in Pera, and awaited the course of events.

In a book called "Letters from Head-Quarters," newspaper correspondents are censured because they had the audacity to ask the commissariat for tents and rations. Concerning the application to head-quarters, it may be as well to state that it was made in consequence of directions from home, for the Government ordered that the accommodation which is seldom refused to gentlemen who may accompany in any recognized capacity the course of armies in the field should be afforded to the correspondents of the London journals. I called on Lord Raglan before he left Scutari, because I was requested to do so. Whilst waiting till his lordship could see me, the correspondent of a London morning journal came into the ante-room, and told me he was on the same errand as myself. "Lord Raglan being very much engaged," I was asked by one of the officers in waiting to see Colonel Steele, and on stating the object of my visit to the military secretary, he assured me that it could not be acceded to, whereupon I made my bow and withdrew without any further observation. A few days afterwards I received permission to draw rations from the commissariat, by order of the Secretary of State.

On a slope rising up from the water's edge, close to Lord Raglan's quarters, the camp of the brigade of Guards was pitched; a kind of ravine, about a quarter of a mile wide, divided it from the plateau and valley at the back of the barracks, in which were pitched the camps of the other regiments, and of the Light Division. Clumps of tall shady trees were scattered here and there down towards the water's edge, under which a horde of sutlers had erected sheds of canvas and plank for the sale of provisions, spirits, and wines, combined with a more wholesome traffic in cakes, Turkish sweetmeats, lemonade, and sherbet. The proprietors were nearly all Smyrniotes or Greeks from Pera, not bearing the highest character in the world. The regular canteens established within the lines were kept by a better class of people, under the surveillance of the military authorities.

Syces, with horses for sale, rode about at full speed through the lanes and pathways leading to the camp; the steeds they bestrode were bony animals with mouths like a vice, stuffed out with grass and green food, and not worth a tithe of the prices asked for them. All this scene, so full of picturesque animation—these files of snowy tents sweeping away tier after tier over hillock and meadow, till they were bounded by the solemn black outlines of the forest of cypress—these patches of men at drill here and there all over the plain—these steadier and larger columns at parade—this constant play and glitter of bayonet and accoutrement as the numerous sentries wheeled on their beaten tracks—this confused crowd of araba drivers, match-sellers, fruit and cigar and tobacco vendors, of hamals or porters, of horse-dealers and gaily-dressed rogues, and rapparees of all nations, disappeared in a few hours, and left no trace behind, except the barren circle which marked where the tent once stood, and the plain all seared and scorched by the camp-fires. What became of the mushroom tribe which had started as it were from the ground to supply the wants of the soldiery it would be difficult to say, and not very interesting to inquire.

Among the most amusing specimens of the race must be reckoned the Jew and Armenian money-changers—squalid, lean, and hungry-looking fellows—whose turbans and ragged gabardines were ostentatiously dirty and poverty-stricken,—who prowled about the camp with an eternal raven-croak of "I say, John, change de monnish—change de monnish," relieved occasionally by a sly tinkle of a leathern purse well filled with dollars and small Turkish coin. They evaded the vigilance of the sentries, and startled officers half asleep in the heat of the sun, by the apparition of their skinny hands and yellow visages within the tent, and the cuckoo-cry, "I say, John, change de monnish." Their appearance was the greatest compliment that could be paid to the national character. The oldest Turk had never seen one of them near a native camp, and the tradition of ages affirmed that where soldiers come the race disappeared. Indeed, they only showed at the English camp in the sun-time. They were a sort of day-ghost which vanished at the approach of darkness, and the croak and the jingle were silent, and they spirited themselves gently away ere twilight, and where they lived no man could tell. Any one who has seen Vernet's picture, at Versailles, of the taking of Abd-el-Kader's Smala, will at once recognize the type of these people in the wonderful figure of the Jew who is flying with his treasure from the grasp of the French swordsman.

A fleet of thirty transports was anchored off the barracks. The Sappers were engaged fitting up horse-boxes on board the transports. The Sea of Marmora was covered with the white sails of transports and store-ships, making way against the current, and the little wharf and landing-place at Scutari were alive with men loading boats with provisions or munitions of war.

In strange contrast to all this life and activity, the natives idled on the shore, scarcely raising their heads to look at what was passing around them; or taking a very unobtrusive and contemplative interest in the labours of the soldiery, as they watched them from their smoking-perches in front of the cafÉs of the town, or of the sutlers' booths pitched along the shore. Lord Raglan's quarters seemed to be an especial resort for them. The house, a low wooden building two stories high, very clean, and neatly painted and matted within, was situated on the beach, about three-quarters of a mile from the barrack. In front was a tolerably spacious courtyard, with high walls, well provided with little stone boxes for the sparrows and swallows to build in, and inside this court led horses and chargers, belonging to the aides and officers on duty, might be seen pacing about. Directly opposite to the entrance of the court was a wooded knoll, with a few gravestones peering above the rich grass; and a Turkish fountain, in front of a group of pine-trees, usually surrounded by water-carriers, was in the foreground.

Groups of Turks, Greeks, and Armenians, each distinct, were to be seen reclining at the foot of these trees, gazing listlessly into the courtyard, while they carried on monosyllabic conversations at long intervals between puffs of smoke. The beach, which somewhat resembled that at Folkestone at high water, was bounded by a tolerable road, a favourite walk of the women and children of Chalcedon and the suburbs beyond it; but these animated bundles of bright-coloured clothing scarcely deigned to look at the men in uniforms, or to turn their heads at the jingle of sword and spur. In the stagnant water which ripples almost imperceptibly on the shore there floated all forms of nastiness and corruption, which the prowling dogs, standing leg-deep as they wade about in search of offal, cannot destroy. The smell from the shore was noisome, but a few yards out from the fringe of buoyant cats, dogs, birds, straw, sticks—in fact, of all sorts of abominable flotsam and jetsam, which bob about on the pebbles unceasingly—the water is exquisitely clear. The slaughter-houses for the troops, erected by the seaside, did not contribute, as may readily be imagined, to the cleanliness of this filthy beach, or the wholesomeness of the atmosphere.

The disposition of the British army was as follows:—At Scutari, the Guards, three battalions, the 7th, 19th, 23rd, 30th, 33rd, 41st, 47th, 49th, 77th, 88th, 93rd, 95th, and Rifle Brigade; at Gallipoli the 1st Royals, 4th, 29th, 38th, 44th and 50th; in all about 22,000 men. Our cavalry consisted of Lord Lucan, his aides-de-camp, and a few staff officers, who were awaiting the arrival of the force to which they were attached. The artillery which had arrived was not in a very efficient condition, owing to the loss of horses on the passage out. It was while our army was in this state that we heard of the march of the Russians upon Silistria, and their advance from the Dobrudscha along the banks of the Danube. Lord de Ros was dispatched to Varna, and had an interview with Omar Pasha, who impressed upon him the necessity of an advance on the part of the allies into Bulgaria. The Russian army on the right bank of the Danube, with their left resting on Kostendje, and their right on Rassova, covering their front with clouds of Cossack plunderers, were within twelve miles of Silistria, and their light cavalry swept all the northern portions of Bulgaria, and threatened to cut off the communications.

On the 17th of May, a state dinner was given to the Duke of Cambridge by the Sultan, at which it was said that Marshal St. Arnaud made an allusion to a third Power which would join France and England in the struggle. The Austrian Ambassador, who was present, did not utter any expression of opinion upon the subject.

A tremendous storm broke over the camp on the night of the 18th of May. Two officers of the 93rd, Lieutenant W. L. Macnish and Ensign R. Crowe, set out from the barracks, about nine o'clock, to go to the encampment of their regiments. The distance was about a third of a mile. Just outside the barrack-wall was a small gully, at the bottom of which there is usually a few inches of water, so narrow that a child might step across. As they were groping along they suddenly plunged into the current, now far beyond their depth. Mr. Crowe managed to scramble up the bank, but his calls to his companion were unanswered. Mr. Macnish's body was discovered in the ditch a few days later, and was interred by the regiment.

On the same night Lord Raglan, in the Caradoc, Marshal St. Arnaud and staff, in the Berthollet, and Riza Pasha, Minister of War, and Mehemet Kiprisli Pasha, Minister of the Interior, in the steam-frigate Cheh-Per, sailed for Varna to hold a council of war with Omar Pasha, Admirals Hamelin and Dundas. Omar Pasha was anxious for the arrival of an Anglo-French army to occupy the country between Varna and Shumla, and to feel their way in advance of that line, so as to menace the Russians from Chernavoda to Kostendje, while he endangered their right flank by pushing a large force on Bucharest. He placed great reliance on the position of Varna. A general at the head of a large army, who kept his own counsel, could, according to the ideas he then expressed, paralyse the whole Russian invasion, when once he had got his men into the neighbourhood of this place, aided, as he must be, by the fleets. Omar Pasha declared that his plans were known to the Russians in twenty-four hours after he mentioned them. Presuming that the officer in command had a close mouth, according to Omar Pasha, a moral and physical strength might be found in the position almost irresistible. He might from that point move on Shumla, and on the passes of the Balkan, with equal ease; he could attack the right flank or the left flank of the Russians, or, by landing in their rear, covered by the fleet, he might break up their position in front of the Danube, and frustrate all their plans of campaign. With similar facility he could have sent an army across to the Asiatic shores of the Black Sea, to aid the Turkish army, or to attack the forces of the Caucasus, or could direct his attention to the Crimea, so as to make an attempt on Sebastopol.

The allied Generals visited Pravadi and Shumla, and inspected the Turkish army, which numbered about 40,000 men, many of whom were sick. On the evening of their visit, Omar Pasha received dispatches announcing that 70,000 Russians, under Paskiewitch, had commenced the bombardment of Silistria.

On the 23rd Lord Raglan returned from Varna to Scutari. It would appear that Omar Pasha had succeeded in convincing the allied generals that it would be desirable to effect a concentration of their forces between Varna and Shumla.

It was decided that Omar Pasha should concentrate in front of Shumla, and that the English and French should move their disposable forces to his assistance. On the return of the Generals arrangements for moving from Scutari were pushed forward with great vigour.

On the 23rd of May, the generals of brigade received instructions to prepare for active operations; and transports were detached from the fleet to proceed up the Black Sea with stores on the evening of the same day.

At a quarter to eleven o'clock on the 24th of May, all the regiments in barrack and camp were paraded separately, and afterwards marched to the ridge which bounded one side of the shallow but broad ravine that separated the Brigade of Guards from the other brigades. The total force on the ground consisted of about 15,000 men.

The Guards were ordered to appear on parade without—Muskets?—No. Coatees?—No. Epaulettes?—No. Cartouch-boxes?—No. Boots?—No. In fact, Her Majesty's Guards were actually commanded to parade "WITHOUT STOCKS!" to celebrate Her Majesty's birthday.

At twelve o'clock, Lord Raglan and staff, to the number of thirty or forty, appeared on the ground. Lord Raglan having ridden slowly along the line, wheeled round and took his post in front of the centre regiment. After a short pause, just as the guns of the Niger were heard thundering out a royal salute from the Bosphorus, the bands struck up the national air again, and down at once fell the colours of every regiment drooping to the ground. The thing was well done, and the effect of these thirty-two masses of richly dyed silk encrusted with the names of great victories, falling so suddenly to the earth as if struck down by one blow, was very fine. In another minute a shout of "God save the Queen" ran from the Rifles on the left to the Guards on the right, and three tremendous cheers, gathering force as they rolled on with accumulated strength from regiment after regiment, made the very air ring, the ears tingle, and the heart throb.

After the cheering died away the march past began. The Guards marched magnificently. The Highlanders were scarcely a whit inferior, and their pipes and dress created a sensation among the Greeks, who are fond of calling them Scotch Albanians, and comparing them to the Klephtic tribes, among whom pipes and kilts still flourish.

Games—racing in sacks, leaping, running, &c., and cricket, and other manly sports—occupied the men in the afternoon, in spite of the heat of the day. In the evening, a handsome obelisk, erected in the centre of the Guards' camp, and crowned with laurel, was surrounded by fireworks.

The apathy of the Turks was astonishing. Though Scutari, with its population of 100,000 souls, was within a mile and a half, it did not appear that half a dozen people had been added to the usual crowd of camp followers who attend on such occasions. The Greeks were more numerous; Pera sent over a fair share of foreigners, all dressed in the newest Paris fashions.

Vessels were sent up to Varna daily with stores; but we were not prepared to take the field. There was great want of saddlery, pack-saddles, saddle-bags, and matters of that kind, and the officers found that their portmanteaus were utterly useless. If John Bull could only have seen the evil effects of strangling the services in times of peace by ill-judged parsimony, he would not for the future listen so readily to the counsellors who tell him that it is economy to tighten his purse-strings round the neck of army and navy. Who was the wise man who warned us in time of peace that we should pay dearly for shutting our eyes to the possibility of war, and who preached in vain to us about our want of baggage, and pontoon trains, and our locomotive deficiencies? No outlay, however prodigal, can atone for the effects of a griping penuriousness, and all the gold in the Treasury cannot produce at command those great qualities in administrative and executive departments which are the fruits of experience alone. A soldier, an artilleryman, a commissariat officer, cannot be created suddenly, not even with profuse expenditure in the attempt. It would be a great national blessing if all our political economists could, at this time, have been caught and enlisted in the army at Scutari for a month or so, or even if they could have been provided with temporary commissions, till they had obtained some practical knowledge of the results of their system.

CHAPTER V.

On Sunday, the 28th of May, Sir George Brown left the barracks at Scutari, and proceeded to Varna in the Banshee. Before his departure orders were issued that the men belonging to the Light Division under his command should embark early the following morning—the baggage to be on board at six o'clock, the men at nine o'clock. At daylight on the 29th of May the rÉveillÉ woke up the camp of the Light Division, and the regiments were ready for inspection at five o'clock. The Light Division, which was destined to play an important part in this campaign, and whose highest glory was to emulate the successes of the famous legion of the Peninsula whose name they bore, consisted of the following regiments:—The 7th Fusileers, the 23rd Fusileers, the 19th Foot, the 33rd or Wellington's Regiment, the 77th Foot, the 88th Connaught Rangers, and the Rifle Brigade, 2nd Battalion. They formed in front of their tents, and after a rapid inspection were ordered to strike tents. In a moment or two file after file of canvas cones collapsed and fell to the earth, the poles were unspliced and packed up, the canvas rolled up and placed in layers on bullock carts, the various articles of regimental baggage collected into the same vehicles,—ants in a swarm could not have been more active and bustling than the men; they formed into masses, broke up again, moved in single files in little companies, in broken groups all over the ground, while the araba drivers looked stupidly on, exhibiting the most perfect indifference to the appropriation of their carts, and evidently regarding the Giaours as unpleasant demons, by whose preternatural energies they were to be agitated and perturbed as punishment for their sins. It would seem, indeed, very difficult to re-form this shifting, diffusive crowd of red-coats into the steady columns which were drawn up so rigidly a short time previously along the canvas walls, now fluttering in the dust or packed helplessly in bales. Their labours were, however, decisive, and in some half-hour or so they had transformed the scene completely, and had left nothing behind them but the bare circles of baked earth, marking where tents had stood, the blackened spot where once the camp-fires blazed, tethering sticks, and a curious dÉbris of jam-pots, preserved meat cases, bottles, sweetmeat boxes, sardine tins, broken delf, bones of fowl and ham, pomatum pots, and tobacco pipes.

A few words of command running through the toiling crowd—some blasts on the bugle—and the regiments got together, steady and solid, with long lines of bullock carts and buffalo arabas drawn up between them, and commenced their march over the sandy slopes which led to the sea. There lay the fleet of transports, anchored with their attendant steamers in long lines, as close inshore as they could approach with safety. The Vesuvius, steam sloop, Commander Powell, the Simoom and the MegÆra troop ships (screw-steamers), sent in their boats to aid those of the merchantmen and steamers in embarking the men and baggage, and Admiral Boxer, aided by Captain Christie, Commander Powell, and Lieutenant Rundle, R.N., superintended the arrangements for stowing away and getting on board the little army, which consisted of about 6,500 men. The morning was fine, but hot. The men were in excellent spirits, and as they marched over the dusty plain to the landing-places, they were greeted with repeated peals of cheering from the regiments of the other division. The order and regularity with which they were got on board the boats, and the safety and celerity with which they were embarked—baggage, horses, women, and stores—were creditable to the authorities, and to the discipline and good order of the men themselves, both officers and privates.

No voyager or artist can do justice to the scenery of the Bosphorus. It has much the character of a Norwegian fiord. Perhaps the rounded outline of the hills, the light rich green of the vegetation, the luxuriance of tree and flower and herbage, make it resemble more closely the banks of Killarney or Windermere. The waters escaping from the Black Sea, in one part compressed by swelling hillocks to a breadth of little more than a mile, at another expanding into a sheet of four times that breadth, run for thirteen miles in a blue flood, like the Rhone as it issues from the Lake of Geneva, till they mingle with the Sea of Marmora, passing in their course beautiful groupings of wood and dale, ravine and hill-side, covered with the profusest carpeting of leaf and blade. Kiosk and pleasure-ground, embrasured bastion and loopholed curtain, gay garden, villa, mosque, and mansion, decorate the banks in unbroken lines from the foot of the forts which command the entrance up to the crowning glory of the scene, where the imperial city of Constantine, rising in many-coloured terraces from the verge of the Golden Horn, confuses the eye with masses of foliage, red roofs, divers-hued walls, and gables, surmounted by a frieze of snow-white minarets with golden summits, and by the symmetrical sweep of St. Sophia. The hills strike abruptly upwards to heights varying from 200 feet to 600 feet, and are bounded at the foot by quays, which run along the European side, almost without interruption, from Pera to BujukderÉ, about five miles from the Black Sea. These quays are also very numerous on the Asiatic side.

The villages by the water-side are so close together, that Pera may be said to extend from TophanÉ to the forts beyond BujukderÉ. The residences of the pashas, the imperial palaces of the Sultan, and the retreats of opulence, lined these favoured shores; and as the stranger passes on, in steamer or caique, he may catch a view of some hoary pasha or ex-governor sitting cross-legged in his garden or verandah, smoking away, and each looking so like the other that they might all pass for brothers. The windows of one portion of these houses are mostly closely latticed and fastened, but here and there a bright flash of a yellow or red robe shows the harem is not untenanted. These dwellings succeed each other the whole length of the Bosphorus, quite as numerously as the houses on the road from Hyde Park Corner to Hammersmith; and at places such as Therapia and BujukderÉ they are dense enough to form large villages, provided with hotels, shops, cafÉs, and lodging-houses. The Turks delight in going up in their caiques to some of these places, and sitting out on the platforms over the water, while the chibouque or narghile confers on them a zoophytic happiness; and the greatest object of Turkish ambition is to enjoy the pleasures of a kiosk on the Bosphorus. The waters abound in fish, and droves of porpoises and dolphins disport in myriads on its surface, plashing and playing about, as with easy roll they cleave their way against its rapid flood, or gambolling about in the plenitude of their strength and security, till a sword-fish takes a dig at them, and sets them off curvetting and snorting like sea-horses. Hawks, kites, buzzards, and sea eagles are numerous, and large flocks of a kind of gregarious petrel of a dusky hue, with whitish breasts, called by the French Âmes damneÉs, which are believed never to rest, keep flying up and down close to the water.

Amidst such scenery the expeditionary flotilla began its voyage at eleven o'clock. It consisted of two steamers for staff officers and horses, seven steamers for troops and chargers, one for 300 pack horses, four sailing transports for horse artillery, and two transports for commissariat animals. Off TophanÉ, frigates, some of them double-banked, displayed the red flag with the silver crescent moon and star of the Ottoman Porte. They were lying idly at rest there, and might have been much better employed, if not at Kavarna Bay, certainly in cruising about the Greek Archipelago.

It was five o'clock ere the last steamer which had to wait for the transports got under weigh again, and night had set in before they reached the entrance of the Black Sea. As they passed the forts (which are pretty frequent towards the Euxine), the sentries yelled out strange challenges and burned blue lights, and blue lights answered from our vessels in return; so that at times the whole of the scene put one in mind of a grand fairy spectacle; and it did not require any great stretch of the imagination to believe that the trees were the work of Grieve—that Stanfield had dashed in the waters and ships—that the forts were of pasteboard, and the clouds of gauze lighted up by a property man—while those moustachioed soldiers, with red fez caps or tarbouches, eccentric blue coats and breeches, and white belts, might fairly pass for Surrey supernumeraries. Out went the blue lights!—we were all left as blind as owls at noontide; but our eyes recovered, the stars at last began to twinkle, two lights shone, or rather bleared hazily on either bow—they marked the opening of the Bosphorus into the Euxine. We shot past them, and a farewell challenge and another blue halo showed the sentries were wide-awake. We were in the Black Sea, and, lo! sea and sky and land were at once shut out from us! A fog, a drifting, clammy, nasty mist, bluish-white, and cold and raw, fell down upon us like a shroud, obscured the stars and all the lights of heaven, and stole with a slug-like pace down yard and mast and stays, stuck to the face and beard, rendered the deck dark as a graveyard, and forced us all down to a rubber and coffee. This was genuine Black Sea weather.

Later in the night we passed through a fleet which we took to be Turkish men-of-war, but it was impossible to make them out, and but for the blockade of their ports these vessels might have been Russians.[6] In the morning the same haze continued drifting about and hugging the land; but once it rose and disclosed a steamer in shore, with a transport cast off hovering about it, just as a hen watches a chicken. The Vesuvius fired a gun, and after some time the steamer managed to take the transport in tow again, and proceeded to rejoin the squadron. We subsequently found it was the MegÆra. The line of land was marked by a bank of white clouds, and the edge of the sea horizon was equally obscured.

The bulk of the convoy arrived and cast anchor in Varna Bay before the evening, and the disembarkation of the troops was conducted with such admirable celerity, that they were landed as fast as the vessels came in. Large boats had been provided for the purpose, and the French and English men-of-war lent their launches and cutters to tow and carry, in addition to those furnished by the merchantmen. The Rifles marched off to their temporary camp under canvas, about a mile away. The 88th Connaught Rangers followed, and on our arrival, the bay was alive with boats full of red-coats. The various regiments cheered tremendously as vessel after vessel arrived, but they met with no response from the Turkish troops.

With difficulty I succeeded in getting a very poor lodging in the house of an Armenian dragoman, who forces himself on the staff of the English consulate, and, in company with several officers, remained there for several days, living and eating after the Armenian fashion by day, and "pigging" in some very lively "divans" at night, till my horses and servants arrived, when I proceeded to Aladyn. In consequence of instructions from home, Mr. Filder gave orders for the issue of rations for self, servants, and horses.

Varna is such a town as only could have been devised by a nomadic race aping the habits of civilized nations. If the lanes are not so ill-paved, so rugged, and so painful to the pedestrian as those of Gallipoli; if they are not so crooked and jagged and tortuous; if they are not so complicated and fantastically devious, it is only because nature has set the efforts of man at defiance, and has forbidden the Turk to render a town built upon a surface nearly level as unpleasant to perambulate as one founded on a hill-side. After a course of 100 miles,—by shores which remind you, when they can be seen through fogs and vapours, of the coast of Devonshire, and which stretch away on the western side of the Black Sea in undulating folds of greensward rising one above the other, or swell into hilly peaks, all covered with fine verdure, and natural plantations of the densest foliage, so that the scenery has a park-like and cultivated air, which is only belied by the search of the telescope,—the vessel bound to Varna rounds a promontory of moderate height on the left, and passing by an earthen fort perched on the summit, anchors in a semicircular bay about a mile and a half in length and two miles across, on the northern side of which is situated the town, so well known by its important relations with the history of the struggles between Russia and the Porte, and by its siege in 1829. The bay shoals up to the beach, at the apex of the semicircle formed by its shores, and the land is so low at that point that the fresh waters from the neighbouring hills form a large lake, which extends for many miles through the marsh lands and plains which run westward towards Shumla. Varna is built on a slightly elevated bank of sand on the verge of the sea, of such varying height that in some places the base of the wall around it is on a level with the water, and at others stand twenty or thirty feet above it. Below this bank are a series of plains inland, which spread all round the town till they are lost in the hills, which, dipping into the sea in an abrupt promontory on the north-east side, rise in terraces to the height of 700 or 800 feet at the distance of three miles from the town, and stretch away to the westward to meet the corresponding chain of hills on the southern extremities of the bay, thus enclosing the lake and plains between in a sort of natural wall, which is like all the rest of the country, covered with brushwood and small trees. A stone wall of ten feet high, painted white, and loopholed, is built all round the place; and some detached batteries, well provided with heavy guns, but not of much pretension as works of defence, have been erected in advance of the walls on the land side. On the sea-face four batteries are erected provided with heavy guns also—two of them of earthwork and gabions, the other two built with stone parapets and embrasures. Peering above these walls, in an irregular jungle of red-tiled roofs, are the houses of the place, with a few minarets towering from the mosques above them. The angles of the work are irregular, but in most instances the walls are so constructed as to admit of a fair amount of flanking fire on an assaulting force. Nevertheless, a portion of the inner side of the bay, and other parts are equally accessible to the fire of batteries on the trifling hillocks around the town. The houses of the town are built of wood; it contains about 12,000 or 14,000 inhabitants, but there is more bustle, and animation, and life in the smallest hamlet in Dorsetshire, than here, unless one goes down to the landing place, or visits the bazaar, where the inhabitants flock for pleasure or business.

General Canrobert and staff reached Varna on the morning of the 2nd of June. He landed about mid-day, and after an extempore levee of the French officers on the beach, proceeded to call on Sir George Brown. The first thing they did when their Sappers arrived at Varna, before the English came up, was to break a gateway through the town wall, on its sea-face, to allow troops and provisions to be landed and sent off without a long detour. This proceeding drove the Pasha of the place almost deranged, and he died soon afterwards.

The cavalry sent by Omar Pasha was of infinite service in transporting provisions, horses, and cattle. The latter were wretchedly small and lean. A strong man could lift one of the beasts, and there was not so much meat on one of them as on a good English sheep. Food was good enough, and plentiful; a fowl could be had for seven piastres—1s. 2d.; bread and meat were about the same price as in London; a turkey could be procured for half-a-crown; wine was dear, and not good; spirits as cheap as they were bad. Omar Pasha prohibited the export of grain from all the ports of Roumelia.

Owing to the exertions of Omar Pasha, and the activity of the commissariat, the quantity of open and covered arabas, or bullock and buffalo carts, which had been collected, was nearly sufficient for the wants of the First Division. There was a small army of hairy, wild-looking drivers stalking about the place, admiring the beauties of Varna, spear or buffalo goad in hand.

The British camp was at first pitched on a plain, covered with scrub and clumps of sweet-brier, about a mile from the town, and half a mile from the fresh-water lake. The water of the lake, however, was not good for drinking—it abounded in animalculÆ, not to mention enormous leeches—and the men had to go to the fountains and wells near the town to fill their canteens and cooking-tins.

Admirals Dundas and Hamelin came into the bay in order that they might assist at the conferences. A new pasha also arrived, who was supposed to be better fitted to the exigencies of the times than his predecessor.

At three o'clock on Monday, June 5th, the Light Division of the army, consisting of the 7th, 19th, 23rd, 33rd, 77th and 88th Regiments, and the Second Battalion of Rifle Brigade, with part of the 8th Hussars, the 17th Lancers, and four guns attached, commenced its march from the encampment at Varna, on their way to their new encampment at Aladyn between Kojuk and Devna (called in some of the maps Dewnos). The infantry halted on a plain about nine miles and a half from the town of Varna, close to a fresh-water lake, but the cavalry and artillery continued their march, and pitched tents about eighteen miles from Varna, the route being through a rich and fertile country, perfectly deserted and lifeless—not a house, not a human creature to be seen along the whole line of march.

When once the traveller left the sandy plain and flat meadow lands which sweep westward for two or three miles from Varna, he passed through a succession of fine landscapes, with a waving outline of hills, which he could see on all sides above the thick mass of scrub or cover, pierced by the road, or rather the track, made by horsemen and araba drivers. Never were tents pitched in a more lovely spot. When the morning sun had risen it was scarcely possible for one to imagine himself far from England. At the other side of the lake which waters the meadows beneath the hill on which the camp was placed, was a range of high ground, so finely wooded, with such verdant sheets of short crisp grass between the clumps of forest timber, that every one who saw it at once exclaimed, "Surely there must be a fine mansion somewhere among those trees!"

The camp was pitched on a dry, sandy table-land. On the right-hand side the artillery (Captain Levinge's troop), the small-arm and ammunition train (Captain Anderson), and the rocket carriages, caissons, artillery horses, &c., had their quarters. The valley between them and the table-land on which the camp was situated was unoccupied. On the left-hand side, on a beautiful spot overlooking the lake, at a considerable elevation, was the little camp of the commissariat, surrounded by carts and araba drivers, flocks of sheep and goats, and cattle, and vast piles of bread and corn. The Rifle camp was placed at the distance of 300 yards from the commissariat camp, on the slope of the table-land, and commanded a beautiful view of the lakes and of the surrounding country; and the 7th, 19th, 23rd, 33rd, 77th, and 88th Regiments were encamped close together, so that the lines of canvas were almost unbroken, from one extremity to the other. Brigadier-General Airey and staff, and Drs. Alexander, Tice, and Jameson, had pitched their tents in a meadow close by some trees at the upper end of the encampment. Brigadier Buller's marquee was close to the lines of his brigade. Captain Gordon, R.E., the Rev. Mr. Egan, and Captain Halliwell, had formed a little encampment of their own in a valley a little further on, which is formed by two spurs of land, covered with the thickest foliage and brushwood—hazels, clematis, wild vines, birch, and creeper,—and near at hand were the tents of the Sappers and Miners. The cavalry were stationed about nine miles further on, close to the village of Devna.

In front of the Rifle camp was a rural burial-ground, long abandoned, probably because there were not many people left to die in the district. It was of the rudest kind. No sculptured stone, not even a scratch of a chisel, distinguished one resting-place from another, but a block of unhewn granite was placed at each grave, and the Sappers and Miners, who were a most utilitarian corps, selected some of the largest and best of them to serve in the construction of their bridge over one of the narrow channels which join lake to lake. These same Sappers had hard work of it in building this bridge. The 10th company who laboured at it, worked entirely naked and up to their breasts in water for one whole day. It is no wonder that a few of them suffered from fever in consequence.

The open country was finely diversified, with abundance of wood and water all around, within easy distance of the route. Long lines of storks flew overhead or held solemn reviews among the frogs in the meadows. As for the latter, they were innumerable, and their concerts by day and night would delight the classical scholar who remembered his Aristophanes, and who could test the accuracy of the chorus. Eagles soared overhead, looking out for dead horses; and vultures, kites, and huge buzzards scoured the plains in quest of vermin, hares, or partridges. Beautiful orioles, a blaze of green and yellow, gaudy woodpeckers, apiasters, jays, and grosbeaks, shrieked and chattered among the bushes, while the nightingale poured forth a flood of plaintive melody, aided by a lovely little warbler in a black cap and red waistcoat with bluish facings, who darted about after the flies, and who, when he had caught and eaten one, lighted on a twig and expressed his satisfaction in a gush of exquisite music. Blackbirds and thrushes joined in the chorus, and birds of all sorts flitted around in multitudes. The commonest bird of all was the dove, and he was found so good to eat, that his cooing was often abruptly terminated by a dose of No. 6.

On the first morning of my visit, as I rode from the camp, a large snake, about eight feet long and as thick as my arm, wriggled across the path; my horse plunged violently when he saw him, but the snake went leisurely and with great difficulty across the sandy road; when he gained the grass, however, he turned his head round, and darted out a little spiteful-looking tongue with great quickness. A Turk behind drew a long barrelled pistol, and was adjusting his aim, when with the quickness of lightning the snake darted into the thicket, and though four of us rode our horses through the cover, we could not find him. He was of a dark green, mottled with white, had a large head of a lighter hue, and protuberant, bright eyes. Jackals were said to abound, but probably the wild dogs were mistaken for them. There were traditions in camp concerning roe deer in the hill forests, and the sportsmen found out the tracks of wild boars through the neighbouring hills. Huge carp abounded in the lake; and very fine perch, enormous bream, and pike might be had for the taking, but tackle, rods and lines were very scarce in camp. There were no trout in these waters, but perch and pike took large flies very freely, whenever the angler could get through the weeds and marshy borders to take a cast for them.

But where are the natives all this time?—come, here is one driving an araba—let us stop and look at him. He is a stout, well-made, and handsome man, with finely-shaped features and large dark eyes; but for all this there is a dull, dejected look about him which rivets the attention. There is no speculation in the orbs which gaze on you, half in dread half in wonder; and if there should be a cavass or armed Turk with you, the poor wretch dare not take his look away for a moment, lest he should meet the ready lash, or provoke some arbitrary act of violence. His head is covered with a cap of black sheepskin, with the wool on, beneath which falls a mass of tangled hair, which unites with beard, and whisker, and moustache in forming a rugged mat about the lower part of the face. A jacket made of coarse brown cloth hangs loosely from the shoulders, leaving visible the breast, burnt almost black by exposure to the sun. Underneath the jacket is a kind of vest, which is confined round the waist by several folds of a shawl or sash, in which are stuck a yataghan or knife, and a reed pipe-stick. The breeches are made of very rudely-manufactured cloth, wide above and gathered in at the knee; and the lower part of the leg is protected by rags, tied round with bits of old string, which put one in mind of the Italian bandit, À la Wallack, in a state of extreme dilapidation and poverty.

If you could speak with this poor Bulgarian, you would find his mind as waste as the land around you. He is a Christian after a fashion, but he puts far more faith in charms, in amulets, and in an uncleanly priest and a certain saint of his village, than in prayer or works. He believes the Turks are his natural masters; that he must endure meekly what they please to inflict, and that between him and Heaven there is only one power and one man strong enough to save him from the most cruel outrages, or to withstand the sovereign sway of the Osmanli—and that power is Russia, and that man is the Czar. His whole fortune is that wretched cart, which he regards as a triumph of construction; and he has driven those lean, fierce-eyed buffaloes many a mile, from some distant village, in the hope of being employed by the commissariat, who offer him what seems to him to be the most munificent remuneration of 3s. 4d. a day for the services of himself, his beasts, and araba. His food is coarse brown bread, or a mess of rice and grease, flavoured with garlic, the odour of which has penetrated his very bones, and spreads in vapour around him. His drink is water, and now and then an intoxicating draught of bad raki or sour country wine. In that abject figure you look in vain for the dash of Thracian blood, or seek the descendant of the Roman legionary. From whatever race he springs, the Bulgarian peasant hereabouts is the veriest slave that ever tyranny created, and as he walks slowly away with downcast eyes and stooping head, by the side of his cart, the hardest heart must be touched with pity at his mute dejection, and hate the people and the rule that have ground him to the dust.

Let the reader imagine he is riding in Bulgaria any hot eventide in June, 1854; he will pass many a group of such poor fellows as these. A few miles before him, after leaving Varna, he will catch glimpses of English hill-tents through the trees on a beautiful knoll, running down towards the rich marshes at the head of the lake, which he has kept on his left all the way. Let us water our horses, for the place is yet some way off. Now and then encountering English travellers going to pester Omar Pasha at Shumla, or returning proudly from having done so, we at last draw towards the camp. The report of a gun rings through the woods and covers, and an honest English shout of "What have you hit, Jack?" or, "By Jove, he's off!" from among the bushes, shows that Ensign Brown or Captain Johnson is busy in the pursuit of the sports of the field. Private Smith, of the Rifle Brigade, with a goose in each hand, is stalking homewards from the hamlet by the lake-side. Mr. Flynn, of the Connaught Rangers, a little the worse for raki, is carrying a lamb on his shoulders, which he is soothing with sentimental ditties; and Sergeant Macgregor, of the 7th, and Sergeant Aprice, of the 23rd Welsh Fusileers, are gravely discussing a difficult point of theology on a knoll in front of you. Men in fatigue-frocks laden with bundles of sticks or corn, or swathes of fresh grass, are met at every step; and by the stream-side, half hidden by the bushes, there is a rural laundry, whence come snatches of song, mingled with the familiar sounds of washing and lines of fluttering linen, attesting the energies of the British laundress under the most unfavourable circumstances. In a short time the stranger arrives at a mass of araba carts drawn up along the road, through which he threads his way with difficulty, and just as he tops the last hill the tents of the Light Division, stretching their snowy canvas in regular lines up the slope of the opposite side, come into view.

The people of England, who had looked with complacency on the reduction of expenditure in all branches of our warlike establishments, ought not to have been surprised at finding the movements of our army hampered by the results of an injudicious economy. A commissariat officer is not made in a day, nor can the most lavish expenditure effect the work of years, or atone for the want of experience. The hardest-working treasury clerk had necessarily much to learn ere he could become an efficient commissariat officer, in a country which our old campaigners declare to be the most difficult they ever were in for procuring supplies. Let those who have any recollections of Chobham, just imagine that famous encampment to be placed about ten miles from the sea, in the midst of a country utterly deserted by the inhabitants, the railways from London stopped up, the supplies by the cart or wagon cut off, corn scarcely procurable, carriages impossible, and the only communication between the camp and port carried on by means of buffalo and bullock arabas, travelling about one mile and a half an hour, and they will be able to form some faint idea of the difficulties experienced by those who had to procure the requisite necessaries for the expeditionary forces. To give the reader a notion of the requirements of such a body as an expeditionary army of 25,000 men, it may be stated that not less than 13,000 horses and mules would be required for the conveyance of their ammunition, baggage, and stores in the field.

The movements of the troops were often delayed on account of want of transport. Buffalo and bullock carts, and their drivers, vanished into thin air in the space of a night. A Bulgarian is a human being after all. A Pasha's cavass might tear him away from "his young barbarians all at play;" but when he had received a few three-and-eightpences a day, off he started the moment the eye of the guard was removed, and, taking unknown paths and mountain roadways, sought again the miserable home from which he had been taken.

The people were so shy, it was impossible to establish friendly relations with them. The inhabitants of the Bulgarian village of Aladyn, close to the camp at the borders of the lake, abandoned their houses altogether. Not one living creature remained out of the 350 or 400 people who were there on our arrival. Their houses were left wide open, and such of their household goods as they could not remove, and a few cocks and hens that could not be caught, were all that was left behind. The cause generally assigned for this exodus was the violence of a few ruffians on two or three occasions, coupled with groundless apprehension of further outrages—others said it was because we established our slaughter-houses there. Certainly the smell was abominable. Diarrhoea broke out in the camp soon after my arrival, and continued to haunt us all during the summer. Much of this increase of disease must be attributed to the use of the red wine of the country, sold at the canteens of the camp; but, as the men could get nothing else, they thought it was better to drink than the water of the place. There were loud complaints from officers and men from this score, and especially on account of the porter and ale they were promised not being dealt out to them; and the blame was laid, as a matter of course, on the shoulders of Sir George Brown. While the men of the light division lay outside Varna they were furnished with porter; but on moving further off they were deprived of it, and the reasons given for the deprivation were various, but the result was manifest. The men heard that the soldiers of the other divisions near Varna got their pint of porter a day, and that they should be dissatisfied at this distinction is not surprising. A draught of good porter, with the thermometer at 93° or 95° in the shade, would be a luxury which a "thirsty soul" in London could never understand. It was evident that some wholesome drink ought to have been provided for the men, to preserve them from the attacks of sickness in a climate where the heat was so great and the supply of pure water inadequate. Many of the officers rode into Varna, bought salt, tobacco, tea, and spirits, and brought it out in the saddle-bags, either to distribute gratuitously or at cost price to their men. This was an immense boon, particularly as the men, except servants on leave, were not allowed to go into Varna. A small stock of preserved potatoes was sent out, but it was soon exhausted.

After I had been a few days at Aladyn, I rode down to Varna, and was astonished at the change which the place had undergone. Old blind side walls had been broken down, and shops opened, in which not only necessaries, but even luxuries, could be purchased; the streets, once so dull and silent, re-echoed the laughter and rattle of dominoes in the newly-established cafÉs. Wine merchants and sutlers from Algiers, Oran, Constantine, Marseilles, Toulon, had set up booths and shops, at which liqueurs, spirits, and French and country wines, could be purchased at prices not intolerably high. The natives had followed the example. Strings of German sausages, of dried tongues, of wiry hams, of bottles of pickles, hung from the rafters of an old Turkish khan, which but a few days before was the abode of nothing but unseemly insects; and an empty storehouse was turned into a nicely whitewashed and gaily painted "Restaurant de l'ArmÉe d'Orient pour Messieurs les Officiers et Sous-officiers." The names of the streets, according to a Gallic nomenclature, printed in black on neat deal slips, were fixed to the walls, so that one could find his way from place to place without going through the erratic wanderings which generally mark the stranger's progress through a Turkish town. One lane was named the Rue Ibrahim, another Rue de l'HÔpital, a third Rue Yusuf; the principal lane was termed the Corso, the next was Rue des Postes FranÇaises; and, as all these names were very convenient, and had a meaning attached to them, no sneering ought to deter one from confessing that the French manage these things better than we do. Did any one want to find General Canrobert? He had but to ask the first Frenchman he met and he would tell him to go up the Corso, turn to the right, by the end of the Rue de l'HÔpital, and there was the name of the General painted in large letters over the door of his quarters. The French post-office and the French hospital were sufficiently indicated by the names of the streets. Where at this period was the English post-office? No one knew. Where did the English general live? No one knew. Where was the hospital for sick soldiers? No one knew.

On the 12th, the 5th Dragoon Guards, which left Cork on the 28th of May, were landed from the Himalaya. The French from Gallipoli had already approached the lower Balkans. Lord Raglan was confined for some days to his quarters at Scutari by illness. The Duke of Cambridge and his staff landed on the 14th of June, and with him came the Brigade of Guards.

The disembarkation of the Guards was effected, and with a rapidity and comfort which conferred great credit on the officers. The French assisted with the most hearty goodwill. Of their own accord the men of the Artillery and the Chasseurs came down to the beach, helped to load buffalo carts, and to thump the drivers, to push the natives out of the way, to show the road, and, in fact, to make themselves generally useful.

CHAPTER VI.

THE fraternity established between the French and English troops became daily more affectionate, and individual friendships soon sprang up, all the closer, perhaps, for a squabble now and then, which ended in the redintegratio amoris; but it was evident that it did not answer to let the troops of the two nations mingle indiscriminately in crowded market-places, and we were well satisfied that we were in advance towards the Danube. From all I could see, I was convinced of the sagacity of the opinion of Marshal St. Arnaud, who objected to the march of the English Dragoons through France on their way to the East.

On Saturday, the 24th of June, a Tatar with an escort rode past the camp by the Shumla road, at full speed for Varna, and, on arriving there, repaired to the quarters of Marshal St. Arnaud and Lord Raglan, with dispatches from Omar Pasha. The two commanders-in-chief held a conference, at which several of the French and English generals were present, and on the same evening two steamers left the port of Varna with dispatches, one for Constantinople, and the other for the Admirals at Baltschik. On the previous Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday the noise of a distant cannonade had been heard at intervals by the outlying pickets in the direction of Silistria, and hypothesis and conjecture were busy hatching canards, which flew about the tents in ever-varying plumage and form. But on Saturday the great fact was known in Varna, and soon travelled out here, that the siege of Silistra was raised, and that the Russians were in full retreat from the scene of their discomfiture—so precipitately that their route could not be ascertained. A reconnaissance was ordered to be undertaken by Lord Cardigan by Yeni Bazaar and to the eastward of Shumla, towards Hadschi Oghlu, to ascertain if the enemy had retreated across the Danube.

On the 24th Prince Napoleon arrived, to take the command of his division, and was received with the usual salute of 101 guns from each French man-of-war in harbour. Our vessels paid him the more modest compliment of one royal salute, and hoisting the French imperial ensign. On the same day a part of the 50th Regiment, and detachments of the rest of the Gallipoli division, under Sir R. England, arrived in Varna, and some of the baggage of Adams's brigade, as well as detachments of the 41st, 55th, and 95th Regiments. Portions of several French regiments also landed. The plain round Varna, for three miles, was covered with tents. Grass, herbage, and shrubs disappeared, and the fields were turned into an expanse of sand, ploughed up by araba wheels, and the feet of oxen and horses, and covered with towns of canvas. There could not have been less than 40,000 men encamped around the place, including French, English, Egyptians, and Turks, and the town itself was choked in every street with soldiery. More than 300 vessels were at anchor in the bay, in readiness to sail at a moment's notice. Upwards of 500 carts came in from the Turkish army to carry stores and provisions towards Shumla and the Danube.

A review of about 8,000 Turco-Egyptian troops was held on the plain behind Varna, on the day the Tatar brought the news of the raising of the Siege of Silistria. The men, who were dressed in clean white trousers, blue frocks, and green jackets, looked well, in spite of their ill-shod feet and ragged jerkins; but their manoeuvres were carelessly performed and done in a listless manner. Physically the soldiers were square-built, bow-legged men, of fair average height, with fierce, eager eyes, and handsome features. A number of negroes, of savage aspect, were among the Egyptian contingent, and some of their best regiments did not disdain the command of Nubian eunuchs. Some of these Egyptians were mutilated in the hands, and had deprived themselves of their thumbs or fore-fingers—a useless attempt to escape conscription altogether. The French and English officers did not form a high opinion of anything but the raw material of which the troops were composed,—a raw material which, like everything else in Turkey, had been spoilt as much as possible by the genius of mal-administration. Behind stone walls, defending a breach, or in a sortie, the Osmanli, with his courage, fanaticism, and disregard of death, which he considers indeed as his passport to heaven, may repel organized European troops; but no one who sees the slow, cautious, and confused evolutions of the Turks, their straggling advance and march, their shaky squares and wavering columns, can believe they could long stand against a regular army in the open field.

Their file firing was anything but good, and a spattering of musketry was kept up from rank to rank long after the general discharge had ceased. The men had all polished musket-barrels, in imitation of the French, and their arms appeared to be kept in a most creditable order. The Egyptian field-pieces, six and nine-pounder guns of brass, were beautifully clean and neat, and the carriages, though rather heavy, were, perhaps, well suited to the country. The gunners seemed to understand their business thoroughly, and the carriages shone with scrubbing, varnish, and fresh paint; the men alone were dirty. They retired to their tents very little fatigued, and partook of very excellent rations, beef and mutton made into pilaff, and lard or grease in lieu of butter. Their tents were just as commodious and as good as our own, but they put more men into each than we were in the habit of doing.

On the 30th of June the bulk of the British troops quitted their original position at Varna. The Light Division, under Sir George Brown, left their quarters on the plateau near Aladyn, and marched to Devna, about eight and a half or nine miles off; on that day, and on Saturday morning, the First Division, under his Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, marched from their encampment outside Varna, and pitched their tents on the plateau of Aladyn, with their left flank resting on the ground which had just been abandoned by the Rifle Brigade, and their right extending to the plains lately used by the Light Division as parading and drill ground.

Sickness and diarrhoea in the camp were greatly on the decline; sore lips were common, principally from exposure to the sun. The Duke's Division seemed to grow beards with impunity. His Royal Highness, who lived out close to his division under canvas, having abandoned his quarters in Varna within a few days after he got into them, had his men's parades and field-days before nine o'clock. The brigadiers preferred the hours between nine and noon, under the impression that the sun was not so powerful then, on account of the forenoon breezes, as it was earlier in the morning. We had a thunderstorm almost every day, and very grateful it was, for the temperature was always lowered ten or twelve degrees by the rain and electrical discharges. The commissariat were doing their duty manfully. The quality of the meat was really very good, though the doctors thought a pound a day was not enough for each man in such a climate, especially as the meat was rather deficient in nutritious quality.

On the 3rd of July, news arrived that Omar Pasha was on his way from Silistria to Varna, and might be expected in an hour. The Turkish infantry on the plains below were observed to fall in, and draw up in front of their tents. About two o'clock a faint streak of dust rose over the white lines of the road winding far in the distance over the hills which lie towards Shumla, and through the glass could be discerned two travelling carriages, with a small escort of horse, moving rapidly towards the village of Devna, and the whole of the staff hastened to pay their respects to Omar Pasha, who mounted his horse, and attended by his suite and followers, rode up the hill towards the camp, in the front of which the division was drawn up in line. The coup d'oeil was magnificent. The blue outlines of the distant hills, over which played the heavy shadows of rapidly-gathering thunder-clouds—the green sweep of the valley below dotted with tents, and marked here and there with black masses of Turkish infantry—the arid banks of sand, and grey cliffs, displaying every variety of light and shadow—and then the crest of the hill, along which for a mile shone the bayonets of the British infantry, topped by the canvas walls behind them—formed a spectacle worth coming far to see. Omar Pasha was dressed with neatness and simplicity—no order but the Star of the Medjidji glittered on his breast, and his close-fitting blue frock-coat displayed no ornament beyond a plain gold shoulder-strap and gilt buttons. He wore the fez cap, which showed to advantage the clear, well-marked lines of his calm and resolute face, embrowned by exposure to wind and weather for many a year of a soldier's life, and the hue of which was well contrasted with his snow-white whiskers. In the rude and rather sensual mouth, with compressed thick lips, were traceable, if physiognomy have truth, enormous firmness and resolution. The chin, full and square, evinced the same qualities, which might also be discerned in the general form of the head. Those who remember the statue of Radetsky, at the Great Exhibition, will understand what this means. All the rougher features, the coarse nose, and the slight prominence of the cheek-bones, were more than redeemed by the quick, penetrating, and expressive eye, full of quiet courage and genius, and by the calm though rather stubborn brow, marked by lines of thought, rising above the thick shaggy eyebrow. In person he appeared to be rather below than above the ordinary height; but his horse, a well-trained grey, was not so tall as the English chargers beside him, and he may really be more than five feet seven or eight. His figure was light, spare, and active, and his seat on horseback, though too Turkish for our notions of equestrian propriety, was firm and easy. He wore white gloves and neat boots, and altogether would have passed muster very well in the ring at Hyde-park as a well-appointed quiet gentleman. His staff were by no means so well turned out, but the few hussars of the escort were stout, soldierlike-looking fellows. One of them led a strong chestnut Arab, which was the Pasha's battle charger.

As he rode by the troops presented arms, and when he had reached the end of the line they broke into column, advanced and performed some simple field-day manoeuvres, to the great delight of the Pasha. As the men moved off after exercising for about three-quarters of an hour, the cavalry came up at full trot, and at once riveted the attention of the Pasha. There were one and a half squadron of the 17th Lancers, a troop of the 8th, and a troop of the 11th Hussars. The artillery horses and dragoon horses were out at water. About six o'clock, after reviewing the Turks in the plain, he drove on to Varna. Sir George Brown returned soon after from a forty-mile ride through the rain, and rode over to see the Brigadier. He was much disappointed at not being in time to receive Omar Pasha.

For some days 3,000 Bashi-Bazouks and Militia were encamped close to our cavalry camp, and every day performed irregular evolutions in the plains below, and made the night hideous with their yells and challenges. On Wednesday, the 5th of July, to the great relief of all their neighbours, our friends moved off to Varna, with great flourishing of lances, swords, and trumpets, headed by ragged red banners, there to be placed under the mild rule of General Yusuf, the famous Algerine commander, who had tamed so many of the wild tribes of the desert to the French yoke. In all the villages about tales were told of the violence of these ruffians—they were true types of the Mussulman "soldiery" as they are yet to be found in Asia, and as they would have been, perhaps, even in the camp, if the eye of Europe had not been upon them. A common practice among them during their march through this very district was to take away the sons and young children of the miserable Bulgarians, and demand a ransom. A poor widow's only son was carried off by them. They put a price on his head she could not pay. She told the chief of the party so, and offered all she had to give to the scoundrel, but he would not accept the sum; and she had never seen her son since. One would have thought that General Yusuf was the very man to get these gentry into order; but the result proved that he was unable to subdue their settled habits of irregularity. Omar Pasha did great good by a little wholesome severity. He seized on whole hordes of them, took their horses and accoutrements, and sent them off to be enlisted by compulsory levy into the armies of the faithful as foot soldiers.

Their camp, just outside the town, was worth a journey to see. Their tents were all pitched regularly, instead of being thrown down higgledy-piggledy all over the ground, and their horses (nearly all stallions—such neighing and kicking, and biting and fighting as goes on among them all day!) were neatly tethered in lines, like those of regular cavalry. There were about 3,000 of these wild cavaliers, and it would have been difficult to find more picturesque-looking scoundrels, if the world was picked for them from Scinde to Mexico. Many of them were splendid-looking fellows, with fine sinewy legs, beautifully proportioned, muscular arms, and noble, well-set heads, of the true Caucasian mould; others were hideous negroes from Nubia, or lean, malignant-looking Arabs, with sinister eyes and hungry aspect; and some were dirty Marabouts, fanatics from Mecca, inflamed by the influence of their Hadj, or pilgrimage. They were divided into five regiments, and each man was paid a franc a-day by the French authorities. For this reason many of our Bashis "bolted" from Colonel Beatson and the English officers, and joined the French. Colonel Beatson had no money to pay them, and, indeed, it was not very clear that he had the sanction, or at all events the approbation, of Lord Raglan, whatever countenance he may have received from the home authorities. As Omar Pasha moved northwards, and left a larger extent of ground between his army and the Allies without military occupation, these wild and reckless men, deserting from both Beatson and Yusuf, became more and more troublesome, and began to indulge in their old habits of violence and plunder.

Omar Pasha left Varna early on Thursday, the 6th of July, and, on arriving at Aladyn, found the Duke of Cambridge's Division ready to receive him. He expressed his admiration at the magnificent appearance of the Guards and Highlanders, and after the review he retired with His Royal Highness the Duke to his tent, where he remained for some time, and partook of some refreshment. About two o'clock Omar Pasha's travelling carriages, escorted by Turkish cavalry, appeared in sight of our camp. The Pasha was received by Lord Raglan, Sir George Brown, Brigadier-General Scarlett, the Brigadiers of Division. After a time the 5th Dragoon Guards went past in splendid order, and then the two troops of Royal Horse Artillery and the battery, which did just what they are wont to do when his Royal Highness Saxe-some-place-or-other visits Woolwich, moving like one man, wheeling as if men, horses, and guns formed part of one machine, sweeping the plain with the force and almost the speed of steam engines, unlimbering guns, taking them to pieces, putting them together, and vanishing in columns of dust. They came by at a trot, which was gradually quickened into a dashing gallop, so that the six-pound and nine-pound guns, and carriages, and tumbrils, went hopping and bounding over the sward. A charge in line, which shook the very earth as men and horses flew past like a whirlwind, wreathed in clouds of dust, particularly excited the Pasha's admiration, and he is reported to have said, "With one such regiment as that I would ride over and grind into the earth four Russian regiments at least." He was particularly struck by the stature of the men, and the size and fine condition of the horses, both dragoon and artillery; but these things did not lead him away from examining into the more important question of their efficiency, and he looked closely at accoutrements, weapons, and carriages. At his request Sir George Brown called a dragoon, and made him take off his helmet. The Pasha examined it minutely, had the white cover taken off, and requested that the man should be asked whether it was comfortable or not. The inspection was over at half-past three o'clock, to the great delight of the men; and Omar Pasha, who repeatedly expressed his gratification and delight at the spectacle, retired with the Generals to Sir George Brown's quarters, and in the course of the evening renewed his journey to Shumla.

There was one phrase which served as the universal exponent of peace, goodwill, praise, and satisfaction between the natives and the soldiery. Its origin cannot be exactly determined, but it probably arose from the habit of our men at Malta in addressing every native as "Johnny." At Gallipoli the soldiers persisted in applying the same word to Turk and Greek, and at length Turk and Greek began to apply it to ourselves, so that stately generals and pompous colonels, as they stalked down the bazaar, heard themselves addressed by the proprietors as "Johnny;" and to this appellation "bono" was added, to signify the excellence of the wares offered for public competition. It became the established cry of the army. The natives walked through the camp calling out "Bono, Johnny! Sood, sood" (milk)! "Bono, Johnny! Yoomoortler" (eggs)! or, "Bono, Johnny! Kasler" (geese)! as the case might be; and the dislike of the contracting parties to the terms offered on either side was expressed by the simple phrase of "No bono, Johnny." As you rode along the road friendly natives grinned at you, and thought, no matter what your rank, that they had set themselves right with you and paid a graceful compliment by a shout of "Bono, Johnny."

Even the dignified reserve of Royal Dukes and Generals of Division had to undergo the ordeal of this salutation from Pashas and other dignitaries. If a benighted Turk, riding homewards, was encountered by a picquet of the Light Division, he answered the challenge of "Who goes there?" with a "Bono, Johnny," and was immediately invited to "advance, friend, and all's well!" and the native servants sometimes used the same phrase to disarm the anger of their masters. It was really a most wonderful form of speech, and, judiciously applied, it might, at that time, have "worked" a man from one end of Turkey in Europe to the other.

The most singular use of it was made when Omar Pasha first visited the camp. After the infantry had been dismissed to their tents, they crowded to the front of their lines in fatigue jackets and frocks to see the Pasha go by, and as he approached them a shout of "Bono! bono! Johnny!" rent the air, to the great astonishment of Omar, while a flight of "foragers" gave him some notion of a British welcome. He smiled and bowed several times in acknowledgment, but it was said that as the whoops, hurrahs, and yells of the Connaught Rangers rang in his ears, he turned to one of the officers near him, and said, "These are noble-looking fellows, but it must be very hard to keep them in order!" He could not comprehend how such freedom could be made consistent with strict discipline in the ranks.

Early in July Lord Cardigan returned to camp with the detachments of Light Cavalry, with which he effected an extended reconnaissance along the banks of the Danube, towards Rustchuk and Silistria. The men were without tents, and bivouacked for seventeen nights; in a military point of view, the reconnaissance effected very little service.

On the 16th, the Vesuvius, Captain Powell, and the Spitfire, Captain Spratt, were cruising off the Sulina mouth of the Danube, and it occurred to the two captains that they would feel their way up to the scene of poor Captain Parker's death. On the morning of the 17th, Lieut. A. L. Mansell, of the Spitfire, went up towards the bar in one of the boats, and ascertained from the captain of an Austrian vessel coming down that there was one small buoy left to mark the channel over the bar. He ran up accordingly, found the buoy, and discovered that there was eleven feet of water on the bar, instead of six or seven as is generally reported. The channel was found to be about a cable's length across, and when Lieut. A. L. Mansell had buoyed it down he returned to the ships, which were ready with their paddle-box boats, their launches, gigs, and cutters. This little flotilla proceeded up the river, destroying the stockades as it passed, without a show of resistance, and at last came to the small town of Sulina, on which the boats opened fire. Only three musket-shots were fired in return, and at three o'clock P.M. the place was a heap of ruins, nothing being spared but the church and lighthouse.

On the 17th of July, Omar Pasha having slowly advanced from his camp opposite Rutschuk, on the track of the retreating Russians, entered the town of Bucharest, and took military possession of Wallachia.

On the 18th, an old woman, said to be Fatima Honoum, the Karakizla (Black Virgin), Kurdish chieftainess, passed through Devno on her way from Varna, attended by a rabble rout of thirty or forty Bashi-Bazouks. She stopped at a rude khan or cafÉ, and enjoyed her pipe for a time, so that one had an opportunity of seeing this Turkish Semiramis. She appeared to be a lean, withered, angular old woman, of some seventy years of age, with a face seamed and marked in every part of its dark mahogany-coloured surface with rigid wrinkles. Her nose was hooked and skinny—her mouth toothless and puckered—her eyes piercing black, restless, and sinister, with bleary lids, and overhung by tufty grey brows. Her neck, far too liberally exhibited, resembled nothing so much as the stem of an ill-conditioned, gnarly young olive tree. With most wanton and unjustifiable disregard of the teachings of Mahomet and of the prejudices of Mussulmans, she showed all her face, and wore no yashmak. Her attire consisted of a green turban, dirty and wrinkled as her face; an antiquated red jacket, with remnants of embroidery, open in front, and showing, as far as mortal sight could gaze upon it, the lady's bosom; a handsome shawl waist scarf, filled with weapons, such as knives, pistols, and yataghans, and wide blue breeches. Hanoum was a spinster, and her followers believed her to be a prophetess. The followers were Bashi-Bazouks pur sang, very wild and very ragged, and stuck all over with weapons, like porcupines with spines. Their horses were lean and scraggy, and altogether it was a comfort to see this interesting Virgin Queen of the Kurds on her way to Shumla. The lady refused to visit our camp, and seemed to hold the Giaour in profound contempt. We never heard of her afterwards, but she was remarkable as being the only lady who took up arms for the cause in this celebrated war.

Next day, some five-and-twenty horsemen rode into the village, attired in the most picturesque excesses of the Osmanli; fine, handsome, well-kempt men, with robes and turbans a blaze of gay colours, and with arms neat and shining from the care bestowed on them. They said they came from Peshawur and other remote portions of the north-western provinces of the Indian Peninsula, and while the officer who was conversing with them was wondering if their tale could be true, the officer in charge of the party came forward and announced himself as an Englishman. It turned out to be Mr. Walpole, formerly an officer in our Navy, whose charming book on the East is so well known, and it appeared that the men under his command were Indian Mahomedans, who had come up on their pilgrimage to Mecca, and who, hearing of the Turkish crusade against the Infidels, had rushed to join the standard of the Sultan. They were ordered to be attached to Colonel Beatson's corps of Bashi-Bazouks, and to form a kind of body-guard to the colonel, whose name is so well known in India. Mr. Walpole seemed quite delighted with his command, and, as he had the power of life and death, he imagined there would be no difficulty in repressing the irregularities of his men.

A council of war was held on Tuesday, July 18th, at Varna, at which Marshal St. Arnaud, Lord Raglan, Admiral Hamelin, Admiral Dundas, Admiral Lyons, and Admiral Bruat were present, and it was resolved that the time had come for an active exercise of the powers of the allied forces by sea and land. The English Cabinet, urged probably by the English press, which on this occasion displayed unusual boldness in its military counsels and decision in its suggestions of hostility against the enemy, had despatched the most positive orders to Lord Raglan to make a descent in the Crimea, and to besiege Sebastopol, of which little was known except that it was the great arsenal of Russia in the Black Sea. On the 19th orders were sent out by Lord Raglan to Sir George Brown, at Devno, to proceed to headquarters at Varna immediately. Sir George Brown lost no time in obeying the summons. He sent a portion of his baggage on at once, and went on to Varna, attended by his aide-de-camp, Captain Pearson. Lord Raglan and his second in command had a long conversation, and on Thursday morning, the 20th, Sir George Brown, attended by Captain Pearson, Colonel Lake, of the Royal Artillery, Captain Lovell, of the Royal Engineers, &c., went on board the Emeu, Captain Smart, and immediately proceeded to the fleets at Baltschik. At the same time General Canrobert, attended by Colonels Trochu, Leboeuf, and Sabatier, took ship for the same destination. The generals went on board the flag ships of the respective admirals, and stood out to sea, steering towards the Crimea, on board her Majesty's ship Fury. Of course, the object of this expedition was kept a dead secret; but it was known, nevertheless, that they went to explore the coast in the neighbourhood of Sebastopol, in order to fix upon a place for the descent.

On the 21st the 1st Division of the French army, General Canrobert and General Forey's Division, struck their tents, and broke up their camp outside Varna. They took the road which led towards the Dobrudscha, which they were to reconnoitre as far as the Danube, and on the 22nd General Yusuf followed with his wild gathering of Bashi-Bazouks, numbering 3,000 sabres, lances, and pistols.

The result of this expedition was one of the most fruitless and lamentable that has ever occurred in the history of warfare. The French Marshal, terrified by the losses of his troops, which the cholera was devastating by hundreds in their camps at Gallipoli and Varna, and alarmed by the deaths of the Duc d'Elchingen and General Carbuccia, resolved to send an expedition into the Dobrudscha, where there were—as Colonel Desaint, chief of the French topographical department, declared on his return from an exploration—about 10,000 Russians, two regiments of regular cavalry, 10 Sotnias of Cossacks, and 35 pieces of artillery. Marshal St. Arnaud, who was confident that the expedition for the Crimea would be ready by the 5th of August, and that the descent would take place on the 10th of the same month, imagined that by a vigorous attack on these detached bodies of men he might strike a serious blow at the enemy, raise the spirits and excite the confidence of the Allies, remove his troops from the camp where they were subject to such depressing influences, and effect all this in time to enable them to return and embark with the rest of the army. It has been said that he proposed to Lord Raglan to send a body of English troops along with his own, but there is, I believe, no evidence of the fact. The 1st Division was commanded by General Espinasse, and started on the 21st for Kostendji; the 2nd Division, under General Bosquet, marched on the 22nd towards Bajardik, and the 3rd Division, under Prince Napoleon, followed the next day and served as a support to the 2nd. All the arrangements were under the control of General Yusuf. Having passed through the ruined districts of Mangalia, the 1st Division reached Kostendji on the 28th of July. They found that the whole country had been laid waste by fire and sword—the towns and villages burnt and destroyed, the stock and crops carried off. A cavalry affair took place on the same day between Yusuf's Bashi-Bazouks and some Russian cavalry, in which the former behaved so well that the General, aided by 1,200 Zouaves, pushed forward to make an attack on the enemy, and wrote to General Espinasse to march to his assistance. On that night, just ere the French broke up their camp at Babadagh, in order to set out on this march, the cholera declared itself among them with an extraordinary and dreadful violence. Between midnight and eight o'clock next morning nearly 600 men lay dead in their tents smitten by the angel of death! At the same moment the division of Espinasse was stricken with equal rapidity and violence at Kerjelouk. All that night men suffered and died, and on the 31st of July General Yusuf made his appearance at Kostendji with the remains of his haggard and horror-stricken troops, and proceeded towards Mangalia in his death march. On the 1st of August General Canrobert, who had returned from his reconnaissance, arrived at Kostendji from Varna, and was horrified to find that his camp was but a miserable hospital, where the living could scarcely bury the remains of their comrades. He could pity and could suffer, but he could not save. That day and the next the pestilence redoubled in intensity, and in the midst of all these horrors food fell short, although the General had sent most urgent messages by sea to Varna for means of transport, and for medicine and the necessaries of life. The 2nd and the 3rd Divisions were also afflicted by the same terrible scourge, and there was nothing left for the Generals but to lead their men back to their encampments as soon as they could, leaving behind them the dead and the dying. The details of the history of this expedition, which cost the French more than 7,000 men, are among the most horrifying and dreadful of the campaign. On returning to Varna the Bashi-Bazouks, tired of the settled forms of a camp life, and impatient of French drill, and the superintendence of brutal or rude non-commissioned officers, began to desert en masse, and on the 15th of August the corps was declared disbanded, and General Yusuf was obliged to admit his complete failure.

We return to Varna, where we find the same awful plague of the later days of the world developing itself with increasing strength and vigour. All June and July I lived in camp at Aladyn and Devno, with the Light Division, making occasional excursions into Varna or over to the camps of the other divisions; and although, the heat was at times very great indeed, there were no complaints among the men, except that diarrhoea began to get common about the beginning of July. On St. Swithin's day we had a heavy fall of rain, some thunder and lightning, and a high wind. On the 17th I heard several of my friends complaining of depression, heaviness, ennui, &c., and "wishing to do something," and the men exhibited traces of the same feeling. On the night of the 19th, having gone down towards the river to visit Captain Anderson, of the Artillery, I was struck by the appearance of prodigious multitudes of small dark beetles, which blew out our candles, and crawled all over the tents in swarms. On the 20th, as I expected there would be a move down to Varna, and wanted to get some articles of outfits, I rode down there with some officers. Up to this time there had been no case of cholera in the Light Division; but early on Sunday morning, 23rd, it broke out with the same extraordinary violence and fatal effect which had marked its appearance in the French columns, and the camp was broken up forthwith, and the men marched to Monastir, nine miles further on, towards the Balkans.

CHAPTER VII.

The Angel of Death—Rations—Army Payments—Turkish Outrages—Cholera—French Hospital—Captain Burke—The Fire at Varna—Progress of the Cholera—Preparations for a Move—Final Deliberations—Embarkation of the Troops—Array of Transports—Suspense.