MY SECOND TRIP TO THE CRIMEA.
Off in the _Ottawa_--A calm in the Bosphorus--Deceitful
appearances--Captain Bone--Fellow-passengers--A concert in the
Black Sea--Intrepidity of P. M.--My Zouave--Harmony in my culinary
troop--A tremendous crash--Change of scene--Alarm of P. M.--A bad
passage--A fit of the blues--Reflections--Visits--Fresh faces--Off
to the Camp--Colonel Steele--A note from my Zouave--French
head-quarters--The lost found--Standing treat--The
cantinière--Return to the _Ottawa_--Bornet’s excuses--La petite
Mère Jouvin--Effects of enthusiasm--Character of the
Zouaves--Remove to the _Baraguay d’Hilliers_.
Two days later, I and my people started on board the _Ottawa_. The day
of our departure was magnificently fine; the Bosphorus and Black Sea
looked like a sheet of glass. I remarked to the captain, “One might
cross the Black Sea in a caique.”
“Yes,” he replied, “in its present state; but who knows how soon we may
have it dancing mountains high? I have seen it so before; and where
would you be with your caique then, Monsieur Soyer?”
“Of course, you are right, captain; but I suppose it is not often thus
at this time of the year.”
“Even at this time of year, I should be sorry to be one of the
caidjees.”
Captain Bone was a very agreeable man--high-bred--educated at
Oxford--well stored with _bons-mots_ and good anecdotes--always laughing
at other people’s jokes as well as his own--very severe on deck and very
funny with his friends. He kept a good cook, and therefore a good table,
looking sharply after it himself--spending, probably, no more money than
other captains, but faring better--very anxious to please his
passengers--and at all times very liberal. The proverb says, “Speak of a
man as you find him;” and in this manner I speak of the worthy captain.
The ship was very full, especially of recovered invalids from Scutari.
Numbers of doctors from Rankioi and Smyrna were on board, on their way
to the Crimea, where their services were required. I had engaged a young
Sardinian named Antonio, a good-looking youth with a very good voice. As
the evening was fine, he and my Zouave began singing, which they did
admirably, every one joining in chorus. Thus we spent a delightful
soirée on the bosom of the Black Sea.
P. M., who by this time was becoming quite a brave man, still formed
part of my suite. That gentleman’s intrepidity was such, that no one
could prevent him from facing at all times the most animated fire--I
mean the fire of a short pipe or a long cigar. My Zouave was everywhere
about the vessel, which did not seem large enough for him and his four
horses. I at last quieted him, by requesting he would think of nothing
while on board but eating and drinking moderately, as well as singing a
song at night when I required it. He promised faithfully not to throw my
Armenian groom overboard, nor to smash the brains of my Italian servant
Antonio, but to live like a Christian, in good fellowship with all, and
sing when I pleased. One of my cooks, named Jean, an Albanian, while
quarrelling, had threatened to cut another, named Victor, into four
pieces, and throw them into a pickle-tub. He also gave up this
professional job. They all shook hands, and the greatest harmony
appeared to reign in my culinary troop.
My secretary, T. G., a gentleman of colour, now accompanied me for the
second time to the Crimea; and the contrast presented by us, myself
being equipped in an Oriental costume, T. G. clothed in white, and my
Zouave rigged in full feather, was very great; and my suite always
created a sensation throughout the camp, more especially when
accompanied by the invincible P. M., who was attired in nankeen, a very
peculiar style, he being an extensive patronizer of the eminent firm of
Messrs. Nicoll.
All on board the _Ottawa_ had for some time retired to their berths. I
can seldom sleep at sea; so I was sitting on deck, smoking my cigar, now
and then addressing a word to the man at the wheel and the second mate.
We praised the fineness of the weather: the upper deck was as steady as
a drawing-room floor, and the ocean seemed to belong to us alone.
It was nearly one o’clock, and Morpheus, who generally deserts me on
such occasions, stole upon me softly like a zephyr. I felt inclined to
submit, and went below to lie down. Wrapped in deep repose, I seemed to
quit this world of realities, and to wander in the regions of
dream-land. This continued till seven in the morning, when a tremendous
crash awoke me suddenly, and I perceived that we were dancing mountains
high.
The crash was caused by two glasses and a bottle of soda-water,
belonging to my companion P. M. in the upper berth. They had been left
upon the wash-hand stand; both glasses were smashed, and the bottle
broken, with a tremendous report, making me fear that in the night we
had, by mistake, approached too near to Sebastopol, and were being fired
into by the batteries. Turning round, I perceived the supposed enemy on
the cabin floor in a fearful state of dilapidation--the bottom of the
soda-water bottle rolling to and fro, according to the will of the
waves, which, it appeared, had risen to that pitch in an incredibly
short space of time--a thing common enough in the Euxine, or Black Sea.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed P. M., “where are we?”
“Don’t be alarmed,” said I. “We are under fire; every man to his gun; so
let us go up on deck and fight like Britons.”
“The devil we are! Oh dear, I can’t fight, I am so sick.”
“Then you must swim or sink.”
In less than a minute he rushed from the cabin, and concealed himself
under the large dinner-table.
As I was dressed, I went upon deck.
“At half-past five,” said the mate on duty, “it began to rain, and the
wind suddenly changed. At seven o’clock, a gust of wind actually bent
the sails across the yards, taking us dead aback; and in less than an
hour, the sea rose to the state you see it in now.”
The captain, who was giving his orders from the crossbridge, called out
to me, laughing, “Well, Monsieur Soyer, where is your caique now? Are
you ready for your breakfast?”
Of course I was, though I could not boast of having much appetite. The
remaining part of the passage was very rough. The _Ottawa_ rolled very
much, having, if I recollect right, shot and shell for ballast. The
contrast afforded by the sudden change from the calm of the previous
day, no doubt caused us to feel its effects the more. At all events, we
arrived in due time quite safe. An unexpected bad passage at all times
makes everybody feel uneasy and low-spirited. The nearer I approached
Balaklava, the more uneasy I felt. A kind of melancholy had come over
me, and my feelings were so indescribable, that while we were entering
the harbour of Balaklava, I was surprised to see the sun shining over
that picturesque spot, and traffic going on as usual. Instead of a
lugubrious veil hanging over the whole fleet, all was going on pretty
much in the same manner as when I had left. Even nature seemed to have
smiled upon the hills, valleys, and mountains, which were gayer than
before.
Such a scene caused me to breathe more freely. I felt that the noble
departed, who but a few days before were in enjoyment of health, honour,
power, and rank, had been removed by their gracious Creator, and
therefore, though Lord Raglan, Admiral Boxer, Sir J. Campbell, General
Estcourt, and numbers of other great men, had been called away during my
short absence, they were only summoned from this world--so, at least, we
are bound to believe--to fulfil their mission in another and a better
sphere.
On the day of our arrival, I paid my respects to several great
personages, who, on account of the sad events before mentioned, were
mostly new-comers, although they knew me either personally or by name.
It was like beginning my mission afresh, making it not only very
painful as far as feelings went, but also difficult. It was something
like being compelled to build an edifice which had fallen to the ground
when near its completion.
Such were my feelings upon my arrival on my second visit to the Crimea.
As I could only remain a couple of days on board the _Ottawa_, as she
was to return immediately to Constantinople, I employed my time in
settling my plan of campaign.
First of all, I paid my respects to Admiral Freemantle, on board the
_Leander_, and I was very kindly received. Next I went to Sir George
Maclean, the new Commissary-General; and a more amiable gentleman I did
not meet during my mission in the Crimea. He informed me that the dry
vegetables from Messrs. Chollet had arrived, and that some had already
been issued to the troops, and were highly approved of. I requested an
order to go and inspect them in the stores, with which I was immediately
favoured.
Having executed all Miss Nightingale’s commissions, as well as others,
the next morning I started early for head-quarters, and arrived there
about nine. Much important business was going on at the time. A number
of horses, foaming with perspiration, were in the yard, the
despatch-riders having no doubt quite forgotten that the success which
attended their mission was owing to their poor quadrupeds. I was at once
received by Colonel Steele, who was much pleased to see me. After
expressing our regret at the lamentable events which had occurred since
our last meeting, we entered upon business.
“Well, Monsieur Soyer,” said the colonel, “if you like to wait, you can
see General Simpson; but, as to-morrow is Sunday, he will be able to
grant you a longer interview. To-day he could not spare ten minutes.”
“Much obliged, colonel,” I replied; “and I will not fail to be here
to-morrow at ten, as you advise.”
“Very well, Monsieur Soyer; I shall be here, and happy to see you.”
My Zouave, whom I had brought with me, had disappeared, leaving word
with the man at the entrance-hall that he would return in ten minutes,
but that he could not resist paying a visit to his old comrades, who
were encamped that day at the French head-quarters. He was _en petit
costume_, as I did not wish him to attract too much attention. I
expected, when I learnt he had gone, that the ten minutes would be
doubled and tripled, and probably extend to hours: I therefore made up
my mind to go about my business in the different hospitals and
regiments. First of all, I visited Dr. Hall, the authorities, and my
friends round head-quarters.
In the afternoon I returned, but no Zouave had been seen. A note was
handed to me by the canteen-man, worded thus:--
MY DEAR GOVERNOR,--Your humble servant, Bornet the Zouave, is half
drunk, and will feel much obliged if you will allow him to get
quite so. He has met with a few old comrades, who very likely will
not last much longer than the others who have died for their
country.
Upon receipt of this, having nothing better to do, I started for the
French head-quarters. I soon found the regiment. This was not enough--I
wanted my man. My next inquiry was for the canteen, quite sure that the
cantinière, whether blonde or brunette, no matter which, would have
heard of him. It turned out as I had anticipated, and, not giving me
time to ask twice, she said, “Yes, Monsieur, he is here--the dear
fellow!” And so he was, fast asleep. He no sooner awoke and saw me, than
he came and apologized, seemingly almost sober. I say seemingly, for all
at once he began to sing and dance like a madman, harmoniously
introducing me to his friends, whom I had the pleasure of shaking
cordially by the hand.
Some of these recollected my former visit, so I begged of them to sit
down. At the same time I offered them something to drink. The liquid
material--viz., two quarts of wine and one of rum--with tin cups, was
brought, and the French and Jamaica nectar was poured out, with a
certain elegance and graceful smile, by the Crimean Bacchante, to these
reckless children of Mars. In a short time many of them had fallen in
the dreadful struggle. They were _enfans perdus_, and were all singing
different tunes and dancing different steps.
The cantinière was elegantly dressed in her Zouave uniform, ready for
starting to the trenches: she wore a red gown, and trousers of the same
material, a jacket like that worn by the men, and a red fez cap with a
long tassel. She carried a stoup full of spirits, a large basket of
provisions, and followed her companions like a trooper.
The Zouaves gave me a pressing invitation to go and see them perform,
which I promised to do that day week. They were perfectly satisfied,
though I was not at all, with my Zouave, Bornet. As he was not fit to
follow me, I gave him up, and, after seeing his horse right and him
wrong, I left him, and started alone for Balaklava, returning in solemn
solitude to my nautical home--the _Ottawa_.
At six the next morning he was on board, busily engaged preparing for
our departure, so soon as a spot could be selected in the camp for us to
pitch our tents. The horses were landed, and my military pupils sent to
different quarters, and set to work cooking. I retained three with me
for the opening of my field-kitchens. As I approached my deserter, the
Zouave, in order to reprimand him for his conduct the preceding day, he
remarked, by way of apology, “I know, mon cher governor, what you are
going to say--that is, if I play you any more such tricks, you will not
keep me, as we agreed when you engaged me.”
“Certainly not,” said I.
“We will begin fresh to-day; but yesterday, you see, governor, the
temptation was too strong for me. When I saw my old comrades Riflard and
Franc Chatbeau, Panaudet, et la cantinière--Beni Zoug Zoug--des vieux
amis de la tente, with whom I had braved all dangers, and so few of us
left--not more than fourteen or fifteen of our company--why, voyez-vous,
it carried me away, and I could not help standing the picton (which
means something to drink), like a Frenchman and a man. And what a fine
lass la petite Mère Jouvin is! Don’t she look well in her Zouave dress?”
“Certainly, but did she go to the trenches?”
“Of course she did. She was on duty last night. Her husband goes one
night, and she the other.”
“Did you see her this morning?”
“I did. The darling had just returned for more liquor. She told me they
had a kind of sortie, and for twenty minutes were peppering one another
like fun, and no mistake. Rabbit-shooting, governor--rabbit-shooting! We
lost about seventeen men, besides the wounded. But that’s nothing. Last
year I saw three times as many knocked over in a sort of skirmish which
only lasted ten minutes. We were half frozen and partly starved; and
hundreds were found dead or nearly frozen, lying under shelter of those
who had been shot, endeavouring to warm themselves before the bodies got
cool.”
“Pray, Bornet, don’t recall those things to my mind: they are too
painful; but, after all, are only the chances of war, and must be
endured.”
“Well, governor,” said he, while cording a large box, “you have gained
the esteem of the 3rd Zouaves; and should you require the services of
the whole regiment, could it be spared, you would have them, including
la petite Mère Jouvin.”
In uttering the last word he gave an extra pull at the rope, which
caused it to break, and bang went my Zouave flat upon his back. A
general laugh was heard upon deck. He picked himself up quickly, and,
rubbing his back, said, “By the explosion of a thousand shells, here is
a stunning piece of straw.”
A gentleman present asked him if he had hurt himself. “Very well,” he
replied, being all the English he knew, except “yes” and “no.”
Seeing everybody laugh, he went on working at the box, and singing his
favourite refrain--
J’aime le vin, l’amour et la gaîté,
Les plaisirs, la gloire,
Et je suis, sans vanité,
L’enfant de la gaîté.
I perceived some spots of blood on his shirt-sleeve, and pointed them
out to him. “Oh,” said he, “that’s no novelty. I’ve seen a sample of my
blood before this, many times.”
On pulling up his sleeve, we found a deep scratch in his arm, from which
the blood flowed pretty freely.
“You had better have it attended to,” said I.
“Bah! bah! nonsense! We Zouaves never trouble any one, particularly the
doctor, about such trifles. Be kind enough to tie my pocket-handkerchief
round it.”
This done, he kept at his work. Thus I discovered the determined
character of these wild soldiers. They made up their minds to care for
nothing--were ready either to fight or sing--be out all night without
sleep, or comfortable under their tents--were content with much to eat
and drink, or little--but so long as they had sufficient to sustain
life, be gay, or at least appear so--never making a direct complaint,
whatever might happen to them. In fact, though French soldiers like the
rest of the army, they had created themselves a body of invincibles, and
a company of very odd fellows, who would at all times much prefer
robbing a man to wronging him; this being one of their mottoes:--“Nous
aimons mieux voler que faire du tort.”
All on board the _Ottawa_ was bustle and confusion. Although not half
unloaded, they were receiving the sick, expecting to sail the same
evening. We were busy removing to the _Baraguay d’Hilliers_. She was a
transport, and full of hospital provisions. Captain Heath advised me to
select her, as she was the vessel likely to remain the longest in
harbour, and I should require a _pied à terre_ in Balaklava. Under the
direction of my Zouave, all our luggage was soon put on board; and about
ten o’clock he was in full dress, it being Sunday. The horses were
ready, and we started for head-quarters.