Chapter 11
ALARMS IN THE HARBOUR—GETTING THE STORES ON SHORE—ROBBERY BY NIGHT AND DAY—THE PREDATORY TRIBES OF BALACLAVA—ACTIVITY OF THE AUTHORITIES—WE OBTAIN LEAVE TO ERECT OUR STORE, AND FIX UPON SPRING HILL AS ITS SITE—THE TURKISH PACHA—THE FLOOD—OUR CARPENTERS—I BECOME AN ENGLISH SCHOOLMISTRESS ABROAD.
ALARMS IN THE HARBOUR. BRINGING THE SUPPLIES ASHORE. ROBBERY BY NIGHT AND DAY. THE PREDATORY TRIBES OF BALACLAVA. THE AUTHORITIES TAKE ACTION. WE GET PERMISSION TO BUILD OUR STORE AND CHOOSE SPRING HILL AS ITS SITE. THE TURKISH PACHA. THE FLOOD. OUR CARPENTERS. I BECOME AN ENGLISH SCHOOLTEACHER ABROAD.
My life in Balaclava could not but be a rough one. The exposure by day was enough to try any woman’s strength; and at night one was not always certain of repose. Nor was it the easiest thing to clamber up the steep sides of the “Medora;” and more than once I narrowly escaped a sousing in the harbour. Why it should be so difficult to climb a ship’s side, when a few more staves in the ladder, and those a little broader, would make it so easy, I have never been able to guess. And once on board the “Medora,” my berth would not altogether have suited a delicate female with weak nerves. It was an ammunition ship, and we slept over barrels of gunpowder and tons of cartridges, with the by no means impossible contingency of their prematurely igniting, and giving us no time to say our prayers before launching us into eternity. Great care was enjoined, and at eight o’clock every evening Captain S—— would come down, and order all lights out for the night. But I used to put my lantern into a deep basin, behind some boxes, and so evaded the regulation. I felt rather ashamed of this breach of discipline one night, when another ammunition ship caught fire in the crowded harbour, and threatened us all with speedy destruction. We all knew, if they failed in extinguishing the fire pretty quickly, what our chances of life were worth, and I think the bravest drew his breath heavily at the thought of our danger. Fortunately, they succeeded in extinguishing the firebrand before any mischief was done; but I do not think the crew of the “Medora” slept very comfortably that night. It was said that the Russians had employed an incendiary; but it would have been strange if in that densely crowded harbour some accidents had not happened without their agency.
My life in Balaclava was bound to be rough. The exposure during the day was enough to test any woman’s strength. At night, rest was not always assured. Climbing the steep sides of the “Medora” was not easy, either. More than once, I narrowly escaped a soaking in the harbour. I have never understood why climbing a ship’s side should be so difficult. A few more rungs on the ladder, made a little wider, would make it so easy. Once aboard the “Medora,” my sleeping quarters would hardly have suited a delicate woman with weak nerves. The ship carried ammunition, and we slept over barrels of gunpowder and tons of cartridges. There was a real possibility that they might ignite too soon. That would send us into eternity without time to say our prayers. We were told to be very careful. Every evening at eight, Captain S—— would come down and order all lights out for the night. But I used to put my lantern in a deep basin behind some boxes, and so got around the rule. One night, I felt rather ashamed of breaking this rule. Another ammunition ship caught fire in the crowded harbour, threatening us all with swift destruction. We all knew how little chance we had of surviving if the fire was not put out quickly. I think even the bravest breathed heavily at the thought of our danger. Fortunately, they put out the burning material before any harm was done. But I do not think the crew of the “Medora” slept very comfortably that night. People said the Russians had employed someone to start the fire. But it would have been strange if no accidents had happened in that crowded harbour without their involvement.
Harassing work, indeed, was the getting our stores on shore, with the aid of the Greek and Maltese boatmen, whose profession is thievery. Not only did they demand exorbitant sums for the carriage, but they contrived to rob us by the way in the most ingenious manner. Thus many things of value were lost in the little journey from the “Albatross” and “Nonpareil” to the shore, which had made the long voyage from England safely. Keep as sharp a look out as I might, some package or box would be tipped overboard by the sudden swaying of the boat, or passing by of one of the boatmen—of course, accidentally—and no words could induce the rascals, in their feigned ignorance of my language, to stop; and, looking back at the helpless waif, it was not altogether consolatory to see another boat dart from between some shipping, where it had been waiting, as accidentally, ready to pounce upon any such wind or waterfalls.
Getting our supplies ashore was exhausting work, even with the help of the Greek and Maltese boatmen, whose profession is stealing. They charged outrageous sums for carrying the supplies and found ingenious ways to rob us along the way. Many valuable things had survived the long voyage from England, only to be lost on the short trip from the “Albatross” and “Nonpareil” to shore. No matter how closely I watched, a package or box would be tipped overboard. The boat might suddenly sway, or a boatman might brush past it. Of course, it was an accident. No words could persuade the rascals to stop, since they pretended not to understand my language. Looking back at the helpless lost item, I found little comfort in seeing another boat dart out from between the ships. It had been waiting there, just as accidentally, ready to seize anything that fell its way.
Still more harassing work was it to keep the things together on the shore: often in the open light of day, while I sat there (after my duties on the sick-wharf were over) selling stores, or administering medicine to the men of the Land Transport and Army Works Corps, and others, who soon found out my skill, valuable things would be abstracted; while there was no limit to the depredations by night. Of course we hired men to watch; but our choice of servants was very limited, and very often those we employed not only shut their eyes to the plunder of their companions, but helped themselves freely. The adage, “set a thief to catch a thief,” answered very badly in Balaclava.
Keeping the things together on shore was even more troublesome. After my duties at the sick-wharf were over, I sat on shore selling supplies or giving medicine to the men of the Land Transport and Army Works Corps and others. They soon discovered my skill. Often, valuable things were stolen even as I sat there in broad daylight. At night, the stealing knew no bounds. Of course, we hired men to keep watch, but we had very few servants to choose from. Very often, the men we employed not only ignored their companions’ stealing but also helped themselves freely. The saying, “set a thief to catch a thief,” worked very badly in Balaclava.
Sometimes Jew Johnny would volunteer to watch for the night; and glad I was when I knew that the honest lynx-eyed fellow was there. One night he caught a great-limbed Turk making off with a firkin of butter and some other things. The fellow broke away from Johnny’s grasp with the butter, but the lad marked him down to his wretched den, behind the engineers’ quarters, and, on the following morning, quietly introduced me to the lazy culprit, who was making up for the partial loss of his night’s rest among as evil-looking a set of comrades as I have ever seen. There was a great row, and much indignation shown at the purpose of my visit; but I considered myself justified in calling in the aid of one of the Provost marshal’s officers, and, in the presence of this most invaluable official, a confession was soon made. Beneath the fellow’s dirty bed, the butter was found buried; and, in its company, a two-dozen case of sherry, which the rogue had, in flagrant defiance of the Prophet’s injunction, stolen for his own private drinking, a few nights previously.
Sometimes Jew Johnny volunteered to keep watch at night. I was glad to know that the honest, sharp-eyed fellow was there. One night, he caught a large, muscular Turk making off with a small barrel of butter and some other things. The man broke free from Johnny’s grasp and escaped with the butter. But Johnny tracked him to his miserable den behind the engineers’ quarters. The next morning, he quietly took me to the lazy culprit. The man was making up for his interrupted night’s sleep among the most evil-looking companions I had ever seen. There was a great uproar, and the men were very indignant about my visit. But I felt justified in calling on one of the Provost marshal’s officers for help. In the presence of this invaluable official, the man soon confessed. The butter was found buried beneath his dirty bed. Beside it was a case of two dozen bottles of sherry. The rogue had stolen the sherry a few nights earlier for his own private drinking, in blatant defiance of the Prophet’s command.
The thievery in this little out-of-the way port was something marvellous; and the skill and ingenuity of the operators would have reflected credit upon the élite of their profession practising in the most civilized city of Europe. Nor was the thievery confined altogether to the professionals, who had crowded to this scene of action from the cities and islands of the Mediterranean. They robbed us, the Turks, and one another; but a stronger hand was sometimes laid on them. The Turk, however, was sure to be the victim, let who might be the oppressor.
The theft in this small, remote port was astonishing. The thieves’ skill and ingenuity would have impressed the élite of their profession in Europe’s most civilized city. But theft was not confined to professionals, who had flocked here from the cities and islands of the Mediterranean. They robbed us, the Turks, and one another, but sometimes someone more powerful took advantage of them. The Turk, however, was sure to be the victim, whoever the oppressor might be.
In this predatory warfare, as in more honourable service, the Zouaves particularly distinguished themselves. These undoubtedly gallant little fellows, always restless for action, of some sort, would, when the luxury of a brash with the Russians was occasionally denied them, come down to Balaclava, in search of opportunities of waging war against society at large. Their complete and utter absence of conscientious scruples as to the rights of property was most amusing. To see a Zouave gravely cheat a Turk, or trip up a Greek street-merchant, or Maltese fruit-seller, and scud away with the spoil, cleverly stowed in his roomy red pantaloons, was an operation, for its coolness, expedition, and perfectness, well worth seeing. And, to a great extent, they escaped scatheless, for the English Provost marshal’s department was rather chary of interfering with the eccentricities of our gallant allies; while if the French had taken close cognizance of the Zouaves’ amusements out of school, one-half of the regiments would have been always engaged punishing the other half.
In this kind of plundering, as in more honorable service, the Zouaves particularly distinguished themselves. These undoubtedly brave little fellows were always eager for action of some kind. When they were occasionally denied the luxury of a clash with the Russians, they would come down to Balaclava. There, they looked for opportunities to wage war against society at large. Their complete and utter lack of concern for property rights was most amusing. It was well worth watching a Zouave gravely cheat a Turk, or trip up a Greek street merchant or Maltese fruit seller. He would then run off with the loot cleverly tucked into his roomy red trousers. The whole operation was cool, swift, and perfectly executed. To a great extent, the Zouaves got away unscathed. The English Provost marshal’s department was rather reluctant to interfere with the eccentricities of our brave allies. And if the French had closely monitored the Zouaves’ off-duty amusements, half the regiments would always have been busy punishing the other half.
The poor Turk! it is lamentable to think how he was robbed, abused, and bullied by his friends. Why didn’t he show a little pluck? There wasn’t a rough sailor, or shrewd boy—the English boy, in all his impudence and prejudice, flourished in Balaclava—who would not gladly have patted him upon the back if he would but have held up his head, and shown ever so little spirit. But the Englishman cannot understand a coward—will scarcely take the trouble to pity him; and even the craven Greek could lord it over the degenerate descendants of the fierce Arabs, who—so they told me on the spot—had wrested Constantinople from the Christians, in those old times of which I know so little. Very often an injured Turk would run up to where I sat, and stand there, wildly telegraphing his complaints against some villainous-looking Greek, or Italian, whom a stout English lad would have shaken out of his dirty skin in five minutes.
The poor Turk! It is sad to think how his friends robbed, abused, and bullied him. Why didn’t he show a little courage? Even a rough sailor or a clever boy would gladly have patted him on the back. The English boy, with all his cheek and prejudice, flourished in Balaclava. Any of them would have encouraged the Turk if only he had held his head up and shown the slightest spirit. But an Englishman cannot understand a coward and will hardly bother to pity him. Even the cowardly Greek could lord it over the degenerate descendants of the fierce Arabs. People there told me those Arabs had taken Constantinople from the Christians in those old times I know so little about. Very often, a wronged Turk would run up to where I sat. He would stand there, gesturing wildly as he complained about some villainous-looking Greek or Italian. A strong English lad would have shaken that man out of his dirty skin in five minutes.
Once, however, I saw the tables turned. As the anecdote will help to illustrate the relative positions of the predatory tribes of Balaclava, I will narrate it. Hearing one morning a louder hubbub than was usual upon the completion of a bargain, and the inevitable quarrelling that always followed, I went up to where I saw an excited crowd collected around a Turk, in whose hands a Greek was struggling vainly. This Greek had, it seemed, robbed his enemy, but the Turk was master this time, and had, in order to force from the robber a confession of the place where the stolen things were deposited (like dogs, as they were, these fellows were fond of burying their plunder), resorted to torture. This was effected most ingeniously and simply by means of some packthread, which, bound round the Greek’s two thumbs, was tightened on the tourniquet principle, until the pain elicited a confession. But the Turk, stimulated to retaliation by his triumph, bagged the Greek’s basket, which contained amongst other things two watches, which their present owner had no doubt stolen. Driven to the most ludicrous show of despair, the Greek was about to attempt another desperate struggle for the recovery of his goods, when two Zouaves elbowed their small persons upon the crowded stage, and were eagerly referred to by all the parties concerned in the squabble. How they contrived it, I cannot say, so prompt were their movements; but, in a very few minutes, the watches were in their possession, and going much faster than was agreeable either to Turk or Greek, who both combined to arrest this new movement, and thereby added a sharp thrashing to their other injuries. The Zouaves effected their escape safely, while the Greek, with a despair that had in it an equal share of the ludicrous and the tragic, threw himself upon the dusty ground, and tore his thin hair out by handfuls. I believe that the poor wretch, whom we could not help pitying, journeyed to Kamiesch, to discover his oppressors; but I fear he didn’t gain much information there.
Once, however, I saw the tables turned. The story helps illustrate the relative positions of Balaclava’s predatory tribes, so I will tell it. One morning, I heard a louder uproar than usual after a bargain and the inevitable quarrel that always followed. I went over to an excited crowd gathered around a Turk, in whose hands a Greek was struggling in vain. It seemed that the Greek had robbed his enemy, but the Turk had the upper hand this time. The Turk had resorted to torture to force the robber to reveal where he had hidden the stolen things. Like the dogs they were, these fellows were fond of burying their plunder. The torture was most ingenious and simple. The Turk tied some packing string around the Greek’s thumbs and tightened it like a tourniquet until the pain made him confess. But the Turk, encouraged by his triumph to seek revenge, took the Greek’s basket. Among other things, it contained two watches, which their present owner had no doubt stolen. The Greek put on a most ludicrous display of despair. He was about to make another desperate attempt to recover his goods when two Zouaves elbowed their small persons onto the crowded stage. Everyone involved in the squabble eagerly appealed to them. I cannot say how the Zouaves managed it, so quick were their movements. But within a few minutes, they had the watches and were making off much faster than either the Turk or the Greek liked. The two joined forces to stop this new turn of events, and so added a sound beating to their other injuries. The Zouaves escaped safely. The Greek threw himself on the dusty ground and tore out his thin hair by handfuls. His despair was as ludicrous as it was tragic. I believe the poor wretch, whom we could not help pitying, traveled to Kamiesch to find his oppressors. But I fear he learned little there.
Had it not been for the unremitting activity of the authorities, no life would have been safe in Balaclava, with its population of villains of every nation. As it was, murder was sometimes added to robbery, and many of the rascals themselves died suspicious deaths, with the particulars of which the authorities did not trouble themselves. But the officials worked hard, both in the harbour and on shore, to keep order; few men could have worked harder. I often saw the old grey-haired Admiral about before the sun had fairly shown itself; and those of his subordinates must have been somewhat heavy sleepers who could play the sluggard then.
If the authorities had not worked tirelessly, no one’s life would have been safe in Balaclava, with its villains from every nation. Even so, robbery sometimes led to murder. Many of the villains themselves died suspicious deaths, and the authorities did not trouble themselves over the details. But the officials worked hard to keep order, both in the harbor and on shore. Few men could have worked harder. I often saw the old, gray-haired Admiral out and about before the sun had fully risen. Any of his subordinates who could be lazy at that hour must have been rather heavy sleepers.
At length the necessary preparations to establish our store were made. We hit upon a spot about two miles from Balaclava, in advance of Kadikoi, close to where the railway engines were stationed, and within a mile of head-quarters. Leave having been obtained to erect buildings here, we set to work briskly, and soon altered the appearance of Spring Hill—so we christened our new home. Sometimes on horseback, sometimes getting a lift on the commissariat carts, and occasionally on the ammunition railway-waggons, I managed to visit Spring Hill daily, and very soon fitted up a shed sufficiently large to take up my abode in. But the difficulty of building our store was immense. To obtain material was next to impossible; but that collected (not a little was, by leave of the Admiral, gleaned from the floating rubbish in the harbour), to find workmen to make use of it was still more difficult. I spent days going round the shipping, offering great wages, even, for an invalid able to handle saw and hammer, however roughly, and many a long ride through the camps did I take on the same errand. At length, by dint of hard canvassing, we obtained the aid of two English sailors, whom I nicknamed “Big and Little Chips,” and some Turks, and set to work in good earnest.
At last, we made the necessary preparations to establish our store. We found a spot about two miles from Balaclava, beyond Kadikoi and close to where the railway engines were stationed. It was also within a mile of head-quarters. Once we had permission to put up buildings there, we set to work briskly. We soon changed the appearance of Spring Hill, as we named our new home. I managed to visit Spring Hill daily, sometimes on horseback, sometimes in commissariat carts, and occasionally on ammunition railway-waggons. Before long, I had fitted out a shed large enough to live in. But building our store was immensely difficult. Materials were almost impossible to obtain. With the Admiral’s permission, we gathered quite a lot from the rubbish floating in the harbour. But once we had collected the materials, finding workers to use them was even harder. I spent days going from ship to ship, offering high wages. I would even have hired an invalid who could use a saw and hammer, however roughly. I also took many long rides through the camps on the same errand. At last, after much persistent searching, we secured the help of two English sailors, whom I nicknamed “Big and Little Chips,” and some Turks. Then we set to work in earnest.
I procured the Turks from the Pacha who commanded the division encamped in the neighbourhood of Spring Hill. It was decided that we should apply to him for help, and accordingly I became ambassadress on this delicate mission, and rode over to the Pacha’s quarters, Jew Johnny attending me as interpreter. I was received by the Pacha with considerable kindness and no trifling amount of formality, and after taking coffee I proceeded, through Jew Johnny, to explain the object of my visit, while his Excellency, a tall man, with a dark pleasing face, smoked gravely, and took my request into his gracious consideration.
I got the Turks from the Pacha who commanded the division camped near Spring Hill. We decided to ask him for help, and I became our representative on this delicate mission. I rode to the Pacha’s quarters, accompanied by Jew Johnny as my interpreter. The Pacha received me very kindly, though with considerable formality. After coffee, I explained the purpose of my visit through Jew Johnny. His Excellency was a tall man with a dark, pleasant face. He smoked gravely and graciously considered my request.
On the following day came the answer to my request, in the persons of two curious Turkish carpenters, who were placed at our orders. After a little while, too, a Turkish officer, whom I christened Captain Ali Baba, took so great an interest in our labours that he would work like any carpenter, and with a delight and zeal that were astonishing. To see him fall back, and look smilingly at every piece of his workmanship, was a sight to restore the most severely tried temper. I really think that the good-hearted fellow thought it splendid fun, and never wearied of it. But for him I do not know how we should have managed with our other Turkish “chips”—chips of the true old Turkish block they were—deliberate, slow, and indolent, breaking off into endless interruptions for the sacred duties of eating and praying, and getting into out-of-the-way corners at all times of the day to smoke themselves to sleep.
The next day, my request was answered when two curious Turkish carpenters were placed at our service. After a while, a Turkish officer also took a great interest in our work. I named him Captain Ali Baba. He worked like any carpenter, with astonishing delight and enthusiasm. After finishing each piece of work, he would step back and smile at it. The sight was enough to restore the most severely tested temper. I really think the good-hearted fellow found it splendid fun and never tired of it. Without him, I do not know how we would have managed with our other Turkish “chips.” They were chips off the true old Turkish block: deliberate, slow, and lazy. They endlessly interrupted their work for the sacred duties of eating and praying. At all hours of the day, they slipped into out-of-the-way corners to smoke themselves to sleep.
In the midst of our work a calamity occurred, which was very nearly becoming a catastrophe. By the giving way of a dam, after some heavy rains, the little stream which threaded its silvery way past Spring Hill swelled without any warning into a torrent, which, sweeping through my temporary hut, very nearly carried us all away, and destroyed stores of between one and two hundred pounds in value. This calamity might have had a tragical issue for me, for seeing a little box which contained some things, valuable as relics of the past, being carried away, I plunged in after it, and losing my balance, was rolled over and over by the stream, and with some difficulty reached the shore. Some of Lord Raglan’s staff passing our wreck on the following day, made inquiries respecting the loss we had sustained, and a messenger was sent from head-quarters, who made many purchases, in token of their sympathy.
In the middle of our work, a disaster occurred that very nearly became a catastrophe. After heavy rains, a dam gave way. The little stream that wound its silvery way past Spring Hill suddenly became a torrent. It swept through my temporary hut, nearly carrying us all away. It also destroyed supplies worth between one and two hundred pounds. The disaster might have ended tragically for me. I saw a little box being carried away. It contained things that I valued as reminders of the past. I plunged in after it but lost my balance. The stream rolled me over and over, and I reached the shore with some difficulty. The next day, some of Lord Raglan’s staff passed by the wreck and asked about our losses. A messenger was sent from headquarters and made many purchases as a sign of their sympathy.
My visit to the Turkish Pacha laid the foundation of a lasting friendship. He soon found his way to Spring Hill, and before long became one of my best customers and most frequent visitors. It was astonishing to note how completely, now that he was in the land of the Giaours, he adapted himself to the tastes and habits of the infidels. Like a Scotch Presbyterian, on the Continent for a holiday, he threw aside all the prejudices of his education, and drank bottled beer, sherry, and champagne with an appreciation of their qualities that no thirsty-souled Christian could have expressed more gratefully. He was very affable with us all, and would sometimes keep Jew Johnny away from his work for hours, chatting with us or the English officers who would lounge into our as yet unfinished store. Sometimes he would come down to breakfast, and spend the greater part of the day at Spring Hill. Indeed, the wits of Spring Hill used to laugh, and say that the crafty Pacha was throwing his pocket-handkerchief at Madame Seacole, widow; but as the honest fellow candidly confessed he had three wives already at home, I acquit him of any desire to add to their number.
My visit to the Turkish Pacha was the start of a lasting friendship. He soon found his way to Spring Hill. Before long, he became one of my best customers and most frequent visitors. It was astonishing how completely he adapted to the tastes and habits of the infidels. Now he was in the land of the Giaours, he was like a Scotch Presbyterian on holiday on the Continent. He cast aside all the prejudices he had been taught and drank bottled beer, sherry, and champagne. He appreciated their qualities more gratefully than even the thirstiest Christian could have done. He was very friendly with us all. Sometimes he would keep Jew Johnny away from his work for hours. The Pacha would chat with us or with the English officers who dropped into our still unfinished store. Sometimes he came down for breakfast and spent most of the day at Spring Hill. In fact, the jokers at Spring Hill used to laugh and say the crafty Pacha was courting Madame Seacole, widow. But the honest fellow freely admitted that he already had three wives at home. So I absolve him of any wish to add to their number.
The Pacha’s great ambition was to be familiar with the English language, and at last nothing would do but he must take lessons of me. So he would come down, and sitting in my store, with a Turk or so at his feet, to attend to his most important pipe, by inserting little red-hot pieces of charcoal at intervals, would try hard to sow a few English sentences in his treacherous memory. He never got beyond half a dozen; and I think if we had continued in the relation of pupil and mistress until now, the number would not have been increased greatly. “Madame Seacole,” “Gentlemen, good morning,” and “More champagne,” with each syllable much dwelt upon, were his favourite sentences. It was capital fun to hear him, when I was called away suddenly to attend to a customer, or to give a sick man medicine, repeating gravely the sentence we had been studying, until I passed him, and started him with another.
The Pacha’s great ambition was to learn English, and at last he insisted that I teach him. He would come down and sit in my store, with a Turk or two at his feet. They tended to his all-important pipe, adding small pieces of red-hot charcoal from time to time. Meanwhile, he tried hard to plant a few English sentences in his unreliable memory. He never learned more than half a dozen. I think that if we had remained pupil and teacher until now, he would not have learned many more. “Madame Seacole,” “Gentlemen, good morning,” and “More champagne” were his favorite sentences. He pronounced each syllable very slowly. Sometimes I was suddenly called away to serve a customer or give medicine to a sick man. It was great fun to hear him solemnly repeat the sentence we had been studying. He would go on until I passed him and started him on another.
Very frequently he would compliment me by ordering his band down to Spring Hill for my amusement. They played excellently well, and I used to think that I preferred their music to that of the French and English regimental bands. I laughed heartily one day, when, in compliance with the kind-hearted Anglo-Turkish Pacha’s orders, they came out with a grand new tune, in which I with difficulty recognised a very distant resemblance to “God save the Queen.”
He often honored me by ordering his band to Spring Hill to entertain me. They played extremely well. I used to think I preferred their music to that of the French and English regimental bands. One day, the band played a grand new tune at the kind-hearted Anglo-Turkish Pacha’s request. I laughed heartily when I could barely recognize a distant resemblance to “God save the Queen.”
Altogether he was a capital neighbour, and gave such strict orders to his men to respect our property that we rarely lost anything. On the whole, the Turks were the most honest of the nations there (I except the English and the Sardinians), and the most tractable. But the Greeks hated them, and showed their hate in every way. In bringing up things for the Pacha’s use they would let the mules down, and smash their loads most relentlessly. Now and then they suffered, as was the case one day when I passed through the camp and saw my friend superintending the correction of a Greek who was being bastinadoed. It seemed a painful punishment.
Altogether, he was an excellent neighbor. He gave his men such strict orders to respect our property that we rarely lost anything. On the whole, the Turks were the most honest of the nations there, apart from the English and the Sardinians. They were also the most cooperative. But the Greeks hated the Turks and showed their hatred in every way. When bringing supplies for the Pacha’s use, the Greeks would let the mules fall and smash their loads without mercy. Now and then the Greeks suffered for it. One day, I passed through the camp and saw my friend overseeing the punishment of a Greek man. The man was being beaten on the soles of his feet. It seemed a painful punishment.
I was sorry, therefore, when my friend’s division was ordered to Kamara, and we lost our neighbours. But my pupil did not forget his schoolmistress. A few days after they had left the neighbourhood of Spring Hill came a messenger, with a present of lambs, poultry, and eggs, and a letter, which I could not decipher, as many of the interpreters could speak English far better than they could write it. But we discovered that the letter contained an invitation, to Mr. Day and myself, to go over to Kamara, and select from the spoil of the village anything that might be useful in our new buildings. And a few days later came over a large araba, drawn by four mules, and laden with a pair of glass-doors, and some window-frames, which the thoughtful kind Pacha had judged—and judged rightly—would be a very acceptable present. And very often the good-natured fellow would ride over from Kamara, and resume his acquaintance with myself and my champagne, and practise his English sentences.
So I was sorry when my friend’s division was ordered to Kamara, and we lost our neighbours. But my pupil did not forget his schoolmistress. A few days after the division left the Spring Hill area, a messenger arrived with a gift of lambs, poultry, and eggs. He also brought a letter that I could not decipher. Many of the interpreters could speak English far better than they could write it. But we discovered that the letter invited Mr. Day and me to Kamara. We could choose anything from the village’s spoils that might be useful in our new buildings. A few days later, a large araba, drawn by four mules, arrived. It carried a pair of glass doors and some window frames. The thoughtful, kind Pacha had judged that they would be a very welcome gift, and he was right. The good-natured fellow often rode over from Kamara to renew his acquaintance with me and my champagne, and to practise his English sentences.
We felt the loss of our Turkish neighbours in more ways than one. The neighbourhood, after their departure, was left lonely and unprotected, and it was not until a division of the Land Transport Corps came and took up their quarters near us, that I felt at all secure of personal safety. Mr. Day rarely returned to Spring Hill until nightfall relieved him from his many duties, and I depended chiefly upon two sailors, both of questionable character, two black servants, Jew Johnny, and my own reputation for determination and courage—a poor delusion, which I took care to heighten by the judicious display of a double-barrelled pistol, lent me for the purpose by Mr. Day, and which I couldn’t have loaded to save my life.
We felt the loss of our Turkish neighbours in more ways than one. After they left, the neighbourhood was lonely and unprotected. I did not feel at all safe until a division of the Land Transport Corps came and settled near us. Mr. Day rarely returned to Spring Hill until nightfall freed him from his many duties. I depended chiefly on two sailors of questionable character, two Black servants, Jew Johnny, and my own reputation for determination and courage. My reputation was a poor illusion, but I took care to strengthen it. I made a judicious display of a double-barrelled pistol that Mr. Day had lent me for the purpose. I could not have loaded the pistol to save my life.