RESCUING THE GARRISON OF ATHENS
“I tell you what it is, Mr. Beveridge,” the governor said when the
latter went up to call as usual upon his arrival at Corfu, “I quite
begin to dread the appearance of that smart schooner of yours; during
the last five weeks you have added a thousand mouths to my anxieties.
What we are to do with all these poor creatures I have not the
slightest idea. We can’t go on feeding them for ever; and what with
the voluntary fugitives and those brought over to us, there are at
present some forty or fifty thousand strangers in the islands, and of
these something like half are absolutely dependent on us for the means
of living.”
“It is a very difficult problem,” Mr. Beveridge said. “Of course, when
the war is over the great proportion of them will return to their
homes in Greece; but the fugitives from the Turkish islands and
mainland are in a different position. Doubtless, when peace is made,
there will be some arrangement by which those families which have men
among them can also return to their homes without being molested; but
those consisting only of women and children could not do so. Some of
the women and girls can find employment in Greek families, and I
suppose the rest will finally become absorbed as servants in the towns
on the Adriatic.”
“I see nothing else for it, Mr. Beveridge; unless you choose to
continue your good work, and transport them in batches across the
Atlantic. I believe there is a great dearth of women in Canada and the
United States.”
“You will have to set up schools and teach them English first, sir,”
Mr. Beveridge laughed, “or they would not be welcomed there. When they
can all speak our language I will think over your suggestion.”
“Do you think that Greece ever will be free, Mr. Beveridge?”
“I think so. Certainly I think so. These terrible massacres on both
sides seem to render it absolutely impossible that they should return
to their former relations. The Turks have not yet made their great
effort, and I believe that when they do they will reconquer Greece.
But I do not think they will hold it. The hatred between the races is
now so bitter that they can never live together in peace; and I
believe that the Greeks will continue their resistance so long that
Europe at last will come to their assistance, and insist upon a
frontier line being drawn. This terrible affair of Chios, dreadful as
it is, will tend to that. The Christian feeling of Europe will become
more and more excited until, if the governments hold back, the people
will force them forward, and England and France at least will, if
necessary, intervene by force. I believe that they would do so now
were it not for jealousy of Russia. It is Russia who fomented this
revolution for her own purposes, and it is solely the fear that she
will reap the whole benefit of their action that causes England and
France to look on this struggle with folded arms.”
“I fancy you are right, and that that will be the end of it,” the
governor said. “I need not say how earnestly I wish the time would
come. I can assure you I have a very anxious time of it. What with
providing for all these people, what with preventing breaches of
neutrality by the Greeks, and what with the calumnies and complaints
that the Greeks scatter broadcast against us, I can assure you that my
task is not an enviable one.”
“I can quite imagine that. The Greeks make it very hard for their
well-wishers to assist them; indeed, if they were bent upon bringing
obloquy upon their name they could hardly act otherwise than they are
doing. The one man they have hitherto produced who goes his way
regardless of intrigue and faction, fighting bravely for the country,
is Constantine Kanaris, who has destroyed two Turkish ships with his
own hand. A hundred of such men as he is, and Greece would have
achieved her independence without foreign assistance; and yet, even
in his own ship, he is unable to maintain even a shadow of what we
should consider discipline. He himself acknowledged as much to me at
Psara.”
“I hear you took him off after he had burned the Turkish war-vessel.”
“Yes; we were lying off the port and saw it. I am glad we were not
nearer, for it was a terrible business. It is a barbarous war
altogether.”
“Then why do you mix yourself up in it, Mr. Beveridge?”
“My mother was a Greek, and I have always lived in Greek thought
rather than in English. I desire not only the independence but the
regeneration of the Greeks. They have lost all the virtues of their
ancestors save their intelligence; but once free they will, I hope and
trust, recover their lost virtues and become, if not a great
people--which they can hardly do, their numbers being comparatively so
few--at least a worthy one.”
“I hope they may. They certainly have enthusiastic friends. Only a
week or two since, a young fellow named Hastings, a lieutenant of our
navy, came out. He has a fortune of some seven or eight thousand
pounds, which he intends to devote to buying and fitting out a ship
for their service. There are scores of English and French officers
kicking their heels at Corinth, vainly asking for employment. And I
hear they are organizing a corps, composed entirely of foreign
officers, who will fight as private soldiers without pay, simply for
the purpose of endeavouring to shame the Greeks into a feeling of
patriotism.
“Where are you thinking of sailing now? If you have no fixed plans, I
should advise you to go round to Athens. They say the Turkish garrison
is at the last extremity. I have had a message from the consulate
there, asking me to send a British ship of war round to insist upon
the conditions of surrender being observed; but unfortunately the
insane rage for retrenchment at home has so diminished the strength of
our fleet that we haven’t a single ship in these waters at a time
like this. I hear that the French consul has also sent urgently asking
for ships of war. At any rate, your influence might do something.”
“I fear not,” Mr. Beveridge said gravely. “However, my men and guns
might have some weight, and at any rate I will go round at once and do
my best. If possible, I am even more anxious to save Turks from
massacre by Greeks, than Greeks from massacre by Turks.”
“I can understand that,” the governor said cordially. “Well, I wish
you every good fortune, Mr. Beveridge; but I say honestly that I do
not wish to see your saucy schooner again unless she comes in with
empty decks. Give them a turn at Malta next time, my dear sir, and I
shall feel really grateful towards you.”
Four days after leaving Corfu the schooner dropped anchor in the port
of Athens. Learning from the first boat that put off to them that the
capitulation of the Turks was to be signed on the following morning,
Mr. Beveridge determined to land at once, in order that he might see
as many of the leading officials as possible, and urge upon them the
necessity of preventing any repetition of the breaches of faith which
had brought such disgrace to the Greek name.
“I shall take Zaimes with me,” he said to Martyn, “and should I see
any signs of an intention upon the part of the populace to commence a
massacre of the Turks I will send him off instantly. In that case,
Captain Martyn, you will at once land the whole of the crew fully
armed, with the exception, say, of five men, and march them to the
British consulate in Athens. You know where it is. Take a Greek flag
with you, for two reasons; in the first place, if you were to go
without it the Greeks would spread the report that the crew of an
English ship of war had landed; and in the second place, it may
quieten and appease the mob if they see that we are in the service of
Greece.”
“Very well, sir, I will carry out your instructions. I don’t think
that rascally mob will venture to interfere with us.”
“I hope not, Martyn; but at any rate we must risk that. Any other
message I may have to send off to you I shall send by an ordinary
messenger; but if you are wanted, I shall trust no one but Zaimes.”
Late in the evening a Greek came off with a letter. All would, Mr.
Beveridge hoped, be well. The Turks had agreed to surrender their
arms, and the Greeks had bound themselves to convey them to Asia Minor
in neutral ships. By the terms of capitulation the Turks were to be
allowed to retain one-half of their money and jewels, and one-half of
their movable property.
“I have every hope that the treaty will be respected,” Mr. Beveridge
wrote. “I am happy to say that the Bishop of Athens, who is a man of
high character, and President of the Areopagus, has insisted upon all
the civil and military authorities taking a most solemn oath to
observe strictly the terms of capitulation, and so far to redeem the
good faith of the nation, which has been so deeply stained by the
violation of so many previous treaties.”
The next morning the Mussulmans marched out from the Acropolis. Out of
the 1150 remaining only 180 were men capable of bearing arms, so
stoutly and obstinately had they defended the place, yielding only
when the last drop of water in the cisterns was exhausted. They were
housed in some extensive buildings in the town. Three days passed
quietly. Two ephors, who had been ordered by the Greek government to
hasten the embarkation of the Turks, took no steps whatever to do so.
On the morning of the fourth day, Horace, who had been twice on shore
to see his father, saw a boat rowing off to the ship. He turned a
glass upon it and exclaimed:
“There is Zaimes on board that boat, Captain Martyn. I am sure my
father would not send him on board unless there is trouble in the
town.”
Martyn did not wait for the boat to arrive, but instantly mustered and
armed the crew, and the boats were in the water by the time Zaimes
arrived alongside. He handed a note to Martyn; it contained only the
words:
“Land instantly, they are murdering the Turks.”
With a hearty execration upon the Greeks, Martyn ordered the men to
take their places in the boats, and gave his final orders to Tarleton,
who was to remain in charge.
“Get all the guns loaded with ball, Mr. Tarleton. For aught I know we
may have to fight our way down to the beach. Fire the first shot over
their heads. If that does not frighten them, plump the others into
them.”
The three boats pushed off, the doctor taking his place by the side of
Horace, who was in command of one of them.
“Have you got your instruments, doctor?” Horace asked smiling.
“I have got these instruments,” Macfarlane said, tapping the butts of
a heavy pair of pistols. “Just for once I am going as a combatant. I
thought there was a limit to everything, but there really doesn’t seem
to be any limit to the faithlessness of the Greeks. I should like very
much to help to give them a little lesson as to the sanctity of an
oath.”
The sailors marched in a compact body from the port to the town. They
had been told the errand upon which they had come, and from the pace
at which they marched, and the expression of angry determination on
their faces, it was evident that they entered thoroughly into the
business. They were met at the entrance to the town by Mr. Beveridge.
“It is of no use going to the British consulate,” he said; “there are
no English officials there, the place is simply in charge of a Greek,
who dare not, if he would, move in the matter. The Turks are taking
refuge in the French, Austrian, and Dutch consulates. It is more than
doubtful whether the flags will be respected. You had better place say
eight men at each, with orders to defend the places till the last if
the mob attacks them; while with the rest of the men you can endeavour
to escort the fugitive Turks to the consulates. Don’t let the men use
their arms till the last extremity, Martyn.”
“Very well, sir. Where will you be?”
“I will go to the French consulate and aid them there in pacifying the
mob. My son had better go to one of the others. Harangue them from the
windows, Horace; point out to them that they are disgracing Greece in
the eyes of all Europe, and implore them not to bring Austria on their
backs by insulting her flag. At the same time see that all the lower
shutters are barred, and be ready to sally out with your men to bring
in any fugitives who may approach.”
“Mr. Miller, do you take eight men to the Dutch consulate,” Martyn
said, “and follow the instructions Mr. Beveridge has given to his
son.”
“Zaimes shall go with you, Mr. Miller.”
“Thank you, Mr. Beveridge; if he will do the haranguing I will look
after the fighting if there is any to be done.”
The three parties, each of eight men, at once started for the
consulates. Martyn waited till they had gone, and then turned to the
remainder. “Boatswain, you take ten men and go one way, I will go
another way with the rest. You heard Mr. Beveridge’s instructions,
that the men were not to use their arms unless absolutely attacked. At
the same time, if you come upon any of the Greeks engaged in murdering
women and children you will remember there are no orders against your
using your hands, and that there are windows as well as doors by which
a Greek can be made to leave a house.”
“Ay, ay, sir!” Tom Burdett replied with a grin; “we will be as gentle
with them as possible.”
Martyn had provided several small Greek flags which had been fastened
to boat-hooks, and each party, taking one of these, proceeded on its
way. They had gone but a little distance when shrieks and cries were
heard, and, bursting into the houses from which they proceeded, the
sailors came upon Greeks engaged in the diabolical work of torturing
women and children. With a cheer they fell upon them, striking right
and left with their fists, and levelling the astonished Greeks to the
ground. Then the Turks were placed safely in their midst, and with a
few hearty kicks at the prostrate ruffians they marched out. The scene
was repeated again and again; the punishment inflicted upon the Greeks
being more and more severe each time.
When some twenty fugitives had been collected they were marched
through a yelling rabble to one or other of the consulates, to which a
large number of fugitives had made their way when the massacre began.
Several times the leaders of both bands had to call upon their men to
present arms, the mob falling back and flying the moment they did so.
After a time the two bands joined, Martyn considering it imprudent to
venture out among the enraged populace in smaller force. The aspect of
the crowd became more and more threatening, but it still confined
itself to execrations and curses, being overawed by the determined
attitude of the men with their muskets, cutlasses, and pistols, and
with the apparent fact that the sailors were only prevented from using
their arms by the exertions of the two officers, for the doctor kept
close by Martyn’s side. At two o’clock the boom of a cannon was heard
from the port; again and again it sounded at regular intervals.
“That is a ship of war saluting,” Martyn said.
The crowd fell away rapidly, many of them hurrying down to the port,
and Martyn, taking advantage of it, was able to bring in a good many
more fugitives to the consulates, the sailors from within rushing out
when they approached, and clearing the way through the crowd with the
vigorous use of their elbows and sometimes of their fists.
“We shall have help up soon,” Mr. Beveridge said, the first time
Martyn brought in a party of fugitives after the guns fired.
An hour later a strong party of French sailors and marines with loaded
muskets and fixed bayonets marched up to the French consulate from two
French vessels, a corvette and a schooner, which had come from Syra in
response to the consul’s earnest appeals for assistance. They placed
in their midst three hundred and twenty-five Turkish fugitives who
had found refuge there, escorted them down to the port, and placed
them on board their ships. On the way they were surrounded by a
menacing crowd of Greek soldiers and by a great mob, yelling,
shouting, and brandishing their arms; but their valour went no
further, and the fugitives were taken off in safety. The sailors of
the _Misericordia_ were now divided between the Austrian and Dutch
consulates, and their appearance at the windows with loaded muskets
intimidated the mob from making an attack. During the night the bishop
and some of the better class exerted themselves to the utmost in
calming the passions of the mob; and they themselves in the morning
accompanied the crew of the _Misericordia_, who, guarding the
fugitives, were allowed to proceed down to the port and embark on
board the schooner without molestation from the people. Some seven
hundred and fifty persons were saved by the French and the crew of the
schooner. Four hundred were massacred in cold blood by the Greeks.
The French vessels had sailed away during the night, and the question
arose what was to be done with the rescued Turks. Of these there were
some forty soldiers, ten or twelve Turks of superior rank, military
and civil officials; the rest were women and children. Two or three of
the Turks spoke Italian, and four or five of them Greek. Mr. Beveridge
held a consultation with these, and it was finally agreed that they
should be landed at the Isle of Tenedos close to the mouth of the
Dardanelles, as from thence they would have no difficulty in making
their way to Constantinople.
“If there are no ships of war in the port we will hoist the white flag
and sail straight in; but if there are, we must land you in the boats
somewhere on the island. We have been in action with your ships of war
and would at once be recognized, and the white flag would not be
respected.”
“We owe you our lives, sir, and the lives of all these women and
children,” a bimbashi or major of the Turkish garrison, a fine
soldierly-looking man, said earnestly; “for had it not been for you
and your brave crew even the flags of the consulates would not have
sufficed to protect us. Assuredly my countrymen would never fire at
you when engaged in such a work of mercy.”
“They might not in cold blood,” Mr. Beveridge said; “but we have just
been saving Chiot prisoners as cruelly treated, and for every Turk who
has been massacred in Athens, well-nigh a hundred Chiots have been
murdered. I do not defend them for breaking their pledged faith to
you, but one cannot be surprised at their savage thirst for
vengeance.”
Martyn had got up the anchor and set sail on the schooner directly the
fugitives were on board, and as soon as he learned that Tenedos was
their destination her course was laid north. Then came the work, to
which they were now becoming accustomed, of stowing away the
unfortunate passengers. The screened partition was allotted to the
women and children of the officers and officials, most of whose
husbands had fallen during the siege, and the rest of the women and
children were stowed down on the main-deck, while the male passengers
stayed on deck, where the women remained for the most part during the
day. Those who had been rescued from the hands of the Greeks had been
plundered of everything; but those who had at the first alarm fled to
the consulates had carried with them jewels and money. The women of
the upper class were all closely veiled, but the rest made but little
attempt to conceal their faces, and all evinced the deepest gratitude
to the crew of the schooner; murmuring their thanks whenever an
officer or sailor passed near them, and trying to seize their hands
and press them to their foreheads.
The fugitives of the upper class, both men and women, were more
restrained, but there was no mistaking the expression with which their
eyes followed their protectors. Many of the women and children were
worn out with the sufferings they had sustained during the last days
of the siege, and some of the soldiers were so weak as to be scarce
able to stand. The doctor attended to many of the children, while the
Greeks and the ship’s cook were kept busy all day in preparing
nourishing soups. The next day they were off Tenedos. No Turkish ship
of war was lying near the town. A boat was lowered, and Miller,
accompanied by Horace as interpreter, took his place in her with one
of the Turkish officers. A white flag was hoisted in her stern, and
six men rowed her ashore.
Their movements had been watched, and a body of Turkish soldiers were
drawn up at the landing-place with several officials. The Turkish
officer mounted the steps and explained to the governor of the island,
who was among those at the landing-stage, the purpose for which the
_Misericordia_ had arrived at the port. There was a rapid conversation
as the officer, frequently interrupted by exclamations of indignation,
and questions from the Turks, narrated what had taken place. Then the
governor and his officers ran forward, seized Miller and Horace by the
hand, patted them on the shoulder with the liveliest demonstrations of
gratitude and friendship. The Turk who had come ashore with them
translated to Horace, in Greek, the governor’s earnest request that
the owner of the ship and his officers would come ashore to visit him.
“The governor says that he himself would at once come off to visit the
ship and return his thanks, but that, as she is flying the Greek flag,
he cannot do so, much as he desires it; but that if the flag were
lowered, and a white flag substituted, he would come off instantly. He
has heard of the fight between the Greek ship with an English crew and
the boats of the Turkish fleet, and of the many craft she has taken
and destroyed, always sparing the crews and sending them ashore, and
he has great esteem for so brave an enemy; now he cannot view them but
as friends after their noble rescue of so many of his countrymen and
women and children.”
Horace in reply said that he would give the governor’s message to his
father, and that the fugitives should at once be landed.
“Do you think that he really meant that he would come on board if we
hoisted the white flag, Horace?”
“I think so, father. He and the officers with him certainly seemed
thoroughly in earnest. What do you think, Martyn? There can be no
objection to our lowering the Greek flag, I should think, while acting
as a neutral.”
“I should think not,” Martyn said, “and I should not care a snap of
the fingers if there was. The Greek flag is all well enough, Mr.
Beveridge, when we see an armed Turk of superior size in sight, but at
other times I don’t feel proud of it.”
“We will lower it down then, Martyn.”
The Greek flag was lowered from the peak and a white one run up. Then
the work of debarkation commenced, the Turks insisting upon shaking
hands with Mr. Beveridge and the officers, thanking them in the most
fervent way, and calling down the blessing of Allah upon them; while
the women, many of them weeping, threw themselves on their knees and
poured out their thanks, some of them holding up their infants to gaze
on the faces of those to whom they owed their lives. The sailors came
in for their share of thanks, and were quite embarrassed by the warmth
with which they were greeted. Just as the first batch left the ship, a
large boat flying the Turkish flag was seen putting out from the
shore, and in a few minutes the governor with seven or eight civil and
military officials came on board.
They brought with them a merchant who spoke English to act as
interpreter. Martyn drew up the whole of the crew who were not engaged
in boat service as a guard of honour to receive them, while he, with
Mr. Beveridge, met the governor as he mounted the gangway. The
governor, who was a tall and dignified Turk, expressed to them his
warmest thanks in the name of the Sultan for the rescue of so many of
his subjects from the fury of the populace of Athens. Mr. Beveridge,
through the interpreter, explained to the pasha that, although an
Englishman he had Greek blood in his veins, and had therefore joined
them in their attempt to achieve independence, and was prepared to
fight on their side but that, as an Englishman, he revolted against
the barbarity with which the war was carried on by both combatants;
that his vessel was named the _Misericordia_, and that while he had
saved a great number of Christian fugitives on the one side, he was
equally ready and pleased at being able to render the same service to
Mussulman fugitives on the other side.
[Illustration: THE GOVERNOR COMES ON BOARD]
“Your errand is a noble and merciful one,” the Turk said, “and must
have the approval of Allah as well as of the God of the Christians. We
have heard of your terrible vessel, how she destroyed a frigate off
Cyprus, beat off the boats of our fleet at Chios, and played havoc
among the shipping from Smyrna. We knew her when we saw her, for we
had heard of her white sails and tall masts; but we had heard too that
no prisoner was injured by you. I never thought to set foot on the
deck of the ship that had become the dread of the traders of Smyrna
and other ports, but I am glad to do so since those who sail her,
although our enemies in battle, have proved themselves indeed our
friends in the time of distress.”
When this had been translated, Mr. Beveridge invited the governor and
his companions into the cabin, where coffee and chibouks were served;
then they were conducted round the ship. The governor conversed for
some little time with two or three of the principal Turks from Athens,
and learned the full details of the surrender and the subsequent
events as he watched the debarkation of the fugitives; and then, after
obtaining a promise from Mr. Beveridge that he and his officers would
come on shore at sunset to dine with him, he entered his boat and was
rowed back.
At sunset Mr. Beveridge and all the officers, with the exception of
Tarleton, who remained in charge of the ship, went ashore. They were
received at the landing-place by a guard of honour of Turkish soldiers
in charge of one of the principal officers of the governor, and were
conducted to his house through a crowd of people cheering and
shouting.
The governor received them at his door. The dinner was served in
Turkish fashion, all sitting on cushions round a table raised about a
foot from the floor. A band of music played without, and a great
number of dishes, of most of which Horace could only guess at the
ingredients, were served; and after the meal, which was of great
length, was concluded, slaves brought round ewers of water, in which
all dipped their fingers, wiping them on embroidered towels. A variety
of sweetmeats were then handed round, followed by coffee. Three or
four interpreters had stood behind the guests, who were all placed
between Turks, and thus conversation was rendered possible. At ten
o’clock they took their leave with many cordial expressions on both
sides, and were again escorted by a party of soldiers to their boats.
“There is no gainsaying,” Macfarlane said as they rowed off, “that
there seems to be a good deal livelier feeling of gratitude among the
Turks than there is among the Greeks. We have come all the way out
from England to fight for the Greeks; we have sunk a Turkish ship,
beaten off their boats with very heavy loss, and rescued nearly three
thousand women and children from their hands, and yet there isn’t a
Greek official who has said as much as thank you. They seem to
consider that it is quite sufficient reward for us to have been of
service to so great a people as they are. Upon the other hand, here
are these Turks, though we have done them a great deal of damage,
putting aside all enmity and treating us like gentlemen because we
have saved a ship-load of their people. He was a very fine old heathen
that governor.”
“The Turks, too, were a deal more grateful than any of the Greeks have
been, except that batch from Cyprus,” Horace said.
“They were in better heart for being thankful, Horace,” Mr. Beveridge
replied. “We have taken them back to their native land, and they will
soon rejoin their friends and families; whereas the Chiots were going
into exile and had lost everything that was dear to them, and the lot
before them was, as the doctor pointed out, little if anything better
than that we had saved them from. Still, I will do them the justice to
say that the Turks were really grateful to us; and though we are not
working for the purpose of obtaining gratitude, it is pleasant to see
that people do feel that one has done something for them.”
“I suppose you won’t get up sail until morning, Martyn?” Mr. Beveridge
said as they went down into the cabin.
“Yes, sir, if you have no objections I shall get up the anchor as soon
as we are on board. You see we are not many miles from the mouth of
the Dardanelles, and with a good glass they could make out our colours
from the mainland; and if word were sent to their admiral that a Greek
craft is at anchor here, he might send two or three ships out to
capture us. I don’t give the Turks credit for such enterprise, but it
is just as well not to run any risk. What is to be our course next,
Mr. Beveridge?”
“There is likely to be a regular battle in a short time between the
Greek army and the Turks. Indeed the Greeks will have to fight if they
really mean to gain their independence. Dramali Pasha has some twenty
thousand men collected on the banks of the Spercheus. Of these they
say eight thousand are cavalry drawn from the Mussulman clans of
Macedonia and Thrace, and he may move forward any day to reconquer the
Morea and relieve Nauplia. If he is suffered to do this there is
virtually an end of the war. I have not a shadow of faith in any of
the Greek leaders, or in the Areopagus, but I still do believe in the
vast bulk of the people. The Morea consists almost wholly of hilly and
broken country, just the ground where an armed peasantry, knowing
every pass and place of advantage, ought to be able to render the
passage of a regular army with their wagons and baggage well-nigh
impossible.
“In such a country the Turkish cavalry would be of little use, and
there are only the infantry to cope with. The artillery would probably
have to be left behind altogether. If ever an effort is to be made by
the Greeks it must be made now. I propose therefore, Martyn, to sail
down to Nauplia and to land there. The Turks, of course, still command
the harbour with their guns, but the Greek vessels land supplies and
ammunition for the besiegers, so there can be no difficulty about
that. We have still a good many thousand muskets in the hold, and
ammunition for them. I shall see what spirit prevails among the
peasantry, shall issue arms to all who need them, and help with money
if required. The peasantry will not want it, but the patriotism of
their primates and captains may be a good deal strengthened by a
little judicious expenditure of money. The Morea is the key of the
whole position, and the present will be the critical moment of the
revolution. If the Turks succeed, Greece is at their feet; if the
Turkish army is defeated, Greece may conquer. Now, therefore, is the
time for me to do my utmost to aid them.”
“Very well, sir; then I will lay her course to-morrow morning for the
south-eastern point of Eubœa.”
On the voyage down Mr. Beveridge discussed with the others the course
that he intended to take. He had quite determined himself to leave the
coast and go into the interior, where, if the Turkish army was to be
checked, the decisive battle must be fought. It was decided that
Horace and the two Greeks should accompany him. The question most at
issue was whether he should take with him any portion of the crew of
the schooner; he himself was somewhat averse to this.
“I need hardly say, Martyn, that I have no intention whatever of
mixing myself up in any fighting that may take place. I go simply to
rouse the enthusiasm as much as possible of the peasantry, and to get
the small local leaders to stir. If I can do nothing I shall simply
come back to the schooner again. If the Greeks dispute the passage of
the Turks I shall, if I can, take up my position where I can see what
takes place, and if the Greeks are beaten, retire across the hills.
What good then would it be for me to take any of the sailors with me?
You may want them all on board, for it is possible, indeed it is
probable, that the Turkish fleet will come round to Nauplia with
supplies for the Turkish army when it arrives there.”
“Well, sir, I shouldn’t require the whole crew to get up sail and make
off if I see them coming, and I do think that it would be very much
better for you to have some men with you. In the first place, your
having a guard of that sort would add to your importance in the eyes
of the Greeks, and give more weight to your counsels. In the second
place, if you are going to take arms and money on shore you will
certainly require a guard for them, or run the risk of getting your
throat cut. And lastly, if there should be a fight, and the Greeks get
beaten, if you have fifteen or twenty men with you your chance of
getting off safely would be very largely increased, for they could
beat off any small party of horsemen that happened to overtake you.
What do you think, Horace?”
“I certainly think so too. After what we have seen of the Greeks,
father, I do think it would be better in every way to have a party of
sailors with us. If it were known that you were going about the hills
with a considerable sum of money you might be safe enough among the
peasants, but I should say there were any number of these miserable
primates and captains who would think nothing of cutting our throats
to get it.”
Mr. Beveridge gave way at once, and it was arranged that a party of
fifteen men, under the command of Miller, should land from the
schooner and accompany him.
“Don’t you think, Mr. Beveridge,” Macfarlane said, “that it would be
as well for you to take your medical attendant with you?”
Mr. Beveridge smiled. “I have scarcely regarded you hitherto, doctor,
in the light of my medical attendant, but as the attendant of the
ship’s company, and I don’t think that Horace or I, or any of the
landing party, are likely to take any fever among the hills of the
Morea.”
“I hope not, sir, but you see there may be some preliminary skirmishes
before the regular battle you expect will take place, and I don’t
suppose the Greeks will have any surgeons accustomed to gunshot wounds
or capable of amputations among them, and therefore, you see, I might
be of some service.”
“In addition to which, doctor,” Martyn laughed, “you think you would
like a ramble on shore a bit.”
“Well, what do you think, Martyn?” Mr. Beveridge said; “it is for you
to decide. The doctor may be, as he says, useful on shore; but then
again his services may be required on board.”
“We are not likely to do any fighting, sir, and if he will mix up a
gallon or two of jalap, and such other medicines as he thinks might be
useful for ordinary ailments on board, I daresay Tarleton will see to
their being administered as required.”
“Oh, yes, I will see to that,” Tarleton said. “Make them as nasty as
you can, doctor, so that I sha’n’t have any unnecessary applications
for them.”
And so it was settled that Dr. Macfarlane should form one of the
landing party.