On February 17 there was great excitement at Missolonghi on account of a
Turkish brig-of-war, which had run ashore on a sand-bank about seven miles
from the city.
Byron sent for Parry, and accosted him in his liveliest manner:
'Now's the day, Parry, and now's the hour; now for your rockets, your
fire-kites, and red-hot shots; now, Parry, for your Grecian fires. Onward,
death or victory!'
Byron was still so weak that he could not rise from the sofa; but all the
available soldiers manned the Greek boats, and set off in the hope of
plunder. Parry and some other European officers went out to reconnoitre
the brig, and discovered a broad and long neck of land, which separated
the shallows from the sea, upon which it would be easy to plant a couple
of guns and make an attack upon the brig. Parry says that he had only two
guns fit for immediate service--a long three-pounder and a howitzer. The
attack was to be made on the following day, and Byron gave orders that, in
the event of any prisoners being taken, their lives were, if possible, to
be spared. He offered to pay two dollars a head for each prisoner saved,
to pay something more for officers, and have them cared for at Missolonghi
at his own expense. He also gave strict orders that the artillery brigade
should be kept in reserve, so as to relieve and protect the Turkish
prisoners. Early on the following day the guns were shipped, but,
unfortunately, the boats ran aground, and much valuable time was lost.
Meanwhile three Turkish brigs came to the rescue, and got into position so
as to enfilade the beach. They manned their boats and tried to haul the
brig into deep water, but without success; and seeing the Greeks preparing
to attack, they thought it better to sheer off. But before doing so they
managed to remove all the men, and as many of the brig's stores as they
could save, and then set the vessel on fire. Although Byron was
disappointed in not having captured a prize, he was glad to hear that the
brig had been burnt to the water's edge. It was estimated that the loss of
that vessel to the enemy would amount to nearly 20,000 dollars, and the
little garrison of Missolonghi was highly elated at so important an
achievement.
On February 19 a serious event occurred, which caused something like a
revolution at Missolonghi, and might have been attended with more serious
consequences if Byron had not shown a firm hand. It is thus related by
Millingen:
'A sentry had been placed at the gate of the Seraglio to prevent
anyone who did not belong to the laboratory from entering. A Suliote
named Toti, presented himself, and, without paying the slightest
attention to the prohibition, boldly walked in. Lieutenant Sass, a
Swede, informed of this, came up to the Suliote, and, pushing him
roughly, ordered him to go out. On his refusal the officer drew his
sword and struck him with its flat side. Incensed at this, the
Suliote, who was of Herculean strength, cut the Swede's left arm
almost entirely off with one stroke of his yataghan, and immediately
after shot him through the head. The soldiers belonging to the
artillery brigade shut the gate, and after inflicting several wounds
on Toti, who continued to defend himself, succeeded in securing him.
His countrymen, with whom he was a favourite, being informed of the
accident, hastened to the Seraglio, and would have proceeded to acts
of violence, had not their comrade been delivered into their hands.
The next morning Lieutenant Sass was buried with military honours. The
Suliotes attended the funeral; and thus terminated the temporary
misunderstanding between them and the Franks.'
It appears, from Gamba's account of this unfortunate affair, that
Lieutenant Sass was universally esteemed as one of the best and bravest of
the foreigners in the service of Greece. The Suliote chiefs laid all the
blame of this affray on Sass himself, whose imprudence in striking one of
the proud and warlike race cannot be justified.
The Suliotes had already given many proofs of lawless insubordination, and
several skirmishes had previously taken place between them and the people
of Missolonghi. This last affair brought matters to a head, and Byron
agreed, with the Primates and Mavrocordato, that these lawless troops
must, at any cost, be got rid of.
Not only did their presence at Missolonghi alarm its inhabitants, but
their fighting value had diminished, owing to their determination not to
take any part in the projected siege of Lepanto, alleging as a reason that
they were not disposed to fight against stone walls. Their dismissal was,
however, not an easy matter, for they were practically masters of the
city, and claimed 3,000 dollars as arrears of pay. The Primates, being
applied to by Byron, declared that they had no money. Under these
circumstances it became absolutely necessary for Byron to find the money
himself, which he did on the understanding that the Primates bound
themselves to clear the town of this turbulent band. Upon payment of this
money the Suliotes packed up their effects, and departed for Arta, thus
putting an end to all Byron's hopes of capturing the fortress of Lepanto.
A report was at this time circulated in Missolonghi that the Turkish
authorities had set a price on the lives of all Europeans engaged in the
Greek service. This rumour added enormously to the difficulties of the
situation; for the artificers, whom Parry had brought out from England to
work in the arsenal, struck work, and applied to Byron for permission to
return home. They said that they had bargained to be conducted into a
place of safety. Byron tried, says Gamba, to persuade them that the affray
had been accidental, that, after the departure of the Suliotes, nothing of
the kind would happen again, and so long as he himself remained there
could not be any serious danger. But all arguments were useless; the men
were thoroughly demoralized, and went from Byron's presence unshaken in
their resolve to return to their native land.
Byron, writing to Kennedy on March 10, says with his usual good-nature:
'The mechanics were all pretty much of the same mind. Perhaps they are
less to blame than is imagined, since Colonel Stanhope is said to have
told them _that he could not positively say their lives were safe_. I
should like to know _where_ our life _is_ safe, either here or
anywhere else? With regard to a place of safety, at least such
hermetically sealed safety as these persons appeared to desiderate, it
is not to be found in Greece, at any rate; but Missolonghi was
supposed to be the place where they would be useful, and their risk
was no greater than that of others.'
In a letter to Barff, some days later, Byron once more alludes to these
artificers, whose absence began to be seriously felt at the arsenal:
'Captain Parry will write to you himself on the subject of the
artificers' wages, but, with all due allowance for their situation, I
cannot see a great deal to pity in their circumstances. They were well
paid, housed and fed, expenses granted of every kind, and they marched
off at the first alarm. Were _they_ more exposed than the rest? or _so
much_? Neither are they very much embarrassed, for Captain Parry says
that _he knows_ all of them have money, and one in particular a
considerable sum.'
These are the men in whose interests Byron had written to Barff:
'Six Englishmen will soon be in quarantine at Zante; they are
artificers, and have had enough of Greece in fourteen days; if you
could recommend them to a passage home, I would thank you; they are
good men enough, but do not quite understand the little discrepancies
in these countries, and are not used to see shooting and slashing in a
domestic quiet way, or (as it forms here) a part of housekeeping. If
they should want anything during their quarantine, you can advance
them _not more_ than a dollar a day (amongst them) for that period, to
purchase them some little extras as comforts (as they are quite out of
their element). I cannot afford them more at present. The Committee
pays their passage.'
Byron was exceedingly vexed by these proceedings, and began to lose all
hope of being of any real service to the Greeks. He told Gamba that he had
lost time, money, patience, and even health, only to meet with deception,
calumny, and ingratitude. Gamba begged Byron to visit Athens, partly for
the benefit of his health, and partly to be quit for a time from the daily
annoyances to which he was subjected. But he refused, and determined to
remain in that dismal swamp until he saw what turn things would take in
the Morea, and until he received news of the success of the loan from
London. He resolved meanwhile to fortify Missolonghi and Anatolico, and to
drill the Greek troops into something like discipline.
In order to reorganize the artillery brigade, Byron agreed to furnish
money which would encourage the Greeks to enlist. Artillery was the only
arm that it was possible to form, as there were no muskets with bayonets
suitable for infantry regiments, and the artillery was deficient both in
officers and men. With great difficulty Parry succeeded in collecting some
Greek artificers, and made some slight progress with his laboratory.
The weather improved, and Byron was able to take long rides, which had an
excellent effect on his health and spirits. Artillery recruits came in
faster than was expected, and were regularly trained for efficient
service. It seemed as though the tide had turned. At about this time Byron
received a letter from Mr. Barff, strongly urging his return to Zante for
the purpose of regaining his usual health, which it was feared he would
not attain at Missolonghi. Byron was touched by this mark of friendship,
but would not grasp the hand that might have saved his life.
'I am extremely obliged by your offer of your country house (as for
all other kindness), in case that my health should require any
removal; but I cannot quit Greece while there is a chance of my being
of (even _supposed_) utility. There is a stake worth millions such as
I am, and while I can stand at all, I must stand by the cause. While
I say this, I am aware of the difficulties, dissensions, and defects
of the Greeks themselves; but allowances must be made for them by all
reasonable people.'
It may seem strange, but it is nevertheless certain, that Byron found more
pleasure in the society of Parry, that 'rough, burly fellow,' than he did
in the companionship of anyone else at Missolonghi. He thoroughly trusted
the man, and even confided in him without reserve. Parry appreciated the
honour of Byron's intimacy, and his evidence of what passed during the
last few weeks of Byron's life is, so far as we are able to judge, quite
reliable. He tells us that Byron had taken a small body of Suliotes into
his own pay, and kept them about his person as a bodyguard. They consisted
altogether of fifty-six men, and of these a certain number were always on
duty. A large outer room in Byron's house was used by them, and their
carbines were hung upon its walls.
'In this room,' says Parry, 'and among these rude soldiers, Lord Byron
was accustomed to walk a great deal, especially in wet weather. On
these occasions he was almost always accompanied by his favourite dog,
Lion, who was perhaps his dearest and most affectionate friend. They
were, indeed, very seldom separated. Riding or walking, sitting or
standing, Lion was his constant attendant. He can scarcely be said to
have forsaken him even in sleep. Every evening Lion went to see that
his master was safe before he lay down himself, and then he took his
station close to his door, a guard certainly as faithful as Lord
Byron's Suliotes.
'With Lion Lord Byron was accustomed, not only to associate, but to
commune very much. His most usual phrase was, "Lion, you are no rogue,
Lion"; or, "Lion, thou art an honest fellow, Lion." The dog's eyes
sparkled, and his tail swept the floor, as he sat with haunches on the
ground. "Thou art more faithful than men, Lion; I trust thee more."
Lion sprang up, and barked, and bounded round his master, as much as
to say, "You may trust me; I will watch actively on every side." Then
Byron would fondle the dog, and say, "Lion, I love thee; thou art my
faithful dog!" and Lion jumped and kissed his master's hand, by way of
acknowledgment. In this manner, when in the dog's company, Byron
passed a good deal of time, and seemed more contented and happy than
at any other hour during the day. This valuable and affectionate
animal was, after Byron's death, brought to England and placed under
the care of Mrs. Leigh, his lordship's sister.'
Parry gives a graphic description of the state of Missolonghi during this
period, which compelled Byron to take a circuitous route whenever the
state of the weather permitted him to ride. The pavements and condition of
the streets were so bad that it was impossible to ride through them
without the risk of breaking one's neck.
'Lord Byron's horses were therefore generally led to the gate of the
town, while his lordship, in a small punt, was rowed along the
harbour, and up what is called the Military Canal. This terminates not
far from the gate; here he would land, and mount his horse.'
The Suliote guard always attended Byron during his rides; and, though on
foot, it was surprising to see their swiftness, says Parry. With carbines
carried at the trail in their right hands, these agile mountaineers kept
pace with the horses, even when Byron went at a gallop. It was a matter of
honour with these Suliotes never to desert their chief; for they
considered themselves responsible both to Greece and to England for his
safety. Parry says:
'They were tall men, and remarkably well formed. Perhaps, taken all
together, no Sovereign in Europe could boast of having a finer set of
men for his bodyguard.'
Byron while in Greece abandoned his habit of spending the whole morning in
bed, as was his custom in Italy. He rose at nine o'clock, and breakfasted
at ten. This meal consisted of tea without either milk or sugar, dry
toast, and water-cresses.
'During his breakfast,' says Parry, 'I generally waited on him to make
the necessary reports, and to take his orders for the work of the day.
When this business was settled, I retired to give the orders which I
had received, and returned to Lord Byron by eleven o'clock at latest.
His lordship would then inspect the accounts, and, with the assistance
of his secretary, checked every item in a business-like manner. If the
weather permitted, he afterwards rode out; if it did not, he used to
amuse himself by shooting at a mark with pistols. Though his hand
trembled much, his aim was sure, and he could hit an egg four times
out of five at a distance of ten or twelve yards.'
After an early dinner, composed of dried toast, vegetables, and cheese,
with a very small quantity of wine or cider (Parry assures us that he
never drank any spirituous liquors during any part of the day or night),
Byron would attend the drilling of the officers of his corps, in an outer
apartment of his own dwelling, and went through all the exercises which it
was proper for them to learn. When this was finished he very often played
a bout of singlestick, or underwent some other severe muscular exertion.
He then retired for the evening, to spin yarns with his friends or to
study military tactics. Parry says:
'At eleven o'clock I left him, and I was generally the last person he
saw, except his servants. He then retired, not to sleep, but to study.
Till nearly four o'clock every morning Byron was continually engaged
reading or writing, and rarely slept more than five hours. In this
manner did he pass nearly every day of the time I had the pleasure of
knowing him.'
It was at the end of February that Mr. George Finlay, who afterwards wrote
a 'History of Greece,' arrived at Missolonghi. He brought a message from
Odysseus, and also from Edward Trelawny, inviting both Byron and
Mavrocordato to a Conference at Salona. Gamba, writing on February 28,
1824, says:
'We had news from the Morea that their discords were almost at an end.
The Government was daily acquiring credit.... On the whole, Greek
affairs appeared to take as favourable an aspect as we could well
desire.... My Lord and Prince Mavrocordato have settled to go to
Salona in a fortnight.'
On the following day Gamba wrote in his journal these ominous words:
'Lord Byron is indisposed. He complained to me that he was often
attacked by vertigoes, which made him feel as if intoxicated. He had
also very disagreeable nervous sensations, which he said resembled the
feeling of fear, although he knew there was no cause for alarm. The
weather got worse, and he could not ride on horseback.'
On March 13 all the shops in the town of Missolonghi were shut, owing to a
report that there was a case of the plague there. It seems that a Greek
merchant who came from Gastuni was attacked with violent sickness and died
within a few hours. After death several black pustules appeared on his
face, arms, and back. The doctors were undecided as to whether it was a
case of poisoning or of plague. It was ascertained that great mortality
prevailed at Gastuni, but whether the plague or a fever was not known.
Every possible precaution was taken to prevent infection, and the greatest
alarm prevailed in the town. Everyone walked with a stick, to keep off the
passer-by. It was realized by the doctors that, in a country so devoid of
cleanliness, the plague would make alarming strides. Byron sent an express
to Zante to communicate the intelligence to the Resident, and began to
make plans for going into the mountains if the plague broke out. On the
following day news arrived from Gastuni that there were no cases of the
plague there. This intelligence restored a general confidence, and
business was resumed as usual. Meanwhile, says Gamba,
'the drilling of our company made great progress, and in three or four
weeks we should have been ready to take the field. We exercised the
brigade in all sorts of movements. Lord Byron joined us, and practised
with us at the sabre and foil: notwithstanding his lameness, he was
very adroit.'
The following anecdote, which is given on the authority of Parry, will
show the respect in which Byron was held by the peasants in Greece:
'Byron one day returned from his ride more than usually pleased. An
interesting country-woman, with a fine family, had come out of her
cottage and presented him with a curd cheese and some honey, and could
not be persuaded to accept payment for it.
'"I have felt," he said, "more pleasure this day, and at this
circumstance, than for a long time past." Then, describing to me where
he had seen her, he ordered me to find her out, and make her a present
in return. "The peasantry," he said, "are by far the most kind,
humane, and honest part of the population; they redeem the character
of their countrymen. The other classes are so debased by
slavery--accustomed, like all slaves, never to speak truth, but only
what will please their masters--that they cannot be trusted. Greece
would not be worth saving but for the peasantry."
'Lord Byron then sat down to his cheese, and insisted on our partaking
of his fare. A bottle of porter was sent for and broached, that we
might join Byron in drinking health and happiness to the kind family,
which had procured him so great a pleasure.'