In Greek Waters: A Story of the Grecian War of Independence

“I don’t think we altered our distance by a ship’s length for six hours, by which time we were a good thirty miles away from the island, and nearly dead to leeward; so I thought it was about time to begin to have some amusement. Directly we had started I had got the cook to make a tremendous fire in the galley, and had put six eighteen-pounder shot in it. I kept coal heaped on, and stuck a couple of extra lengths on to the chimney to make it draw, and by this time the balls were red-hot. We did not begin with them at first, but having got the second sail out of water we luffed a little so as to get the pivot to bear, and Tom Burdett sent the first shot smack into the frigate’s fore-foot. She yawed a bit, and let us have four or five of her forward guns on the starboard side, and this time a couple of shot went through our sails. As I did not want to run any risks I held on till I put another half-mile between us; then I began again with the pivot.

“The boatswain is a capital shot and hulled the leading frigate every time. Evidently she did not like it. I expect she had no idea that a craft of this size carried such heavy metal, and she came up into the wind and gave us a broadside. I put the helm down at the same moment as she did and returned the compliment. We trained the guns high, and as good luck would have it one of the shots struck the maintop-mast and down it came bringing the fore and mizzen-topgallant masts down with it. We gave a cheer, and the Greeks yelled like fiends. I had sent the women and children down into the hold, but the men were on deck, and they danced about like lunatics when they saw the top hamper of the Turk go over her side. We wore round and gave her the other broadside, then I set the Greeks to work to load the broadside guns, while our fellows went to the pivot again.

“Now was the time to try the red-hot shot while she was lying broadside on to us, and we plumped the whole six into her, one after the other; then we stood off again, for the other frigate had come up and was joining in the game. If we had had a spar knocked out of us it would have been all up, for they each carried something like forty guns. As soon as they got pretty well out of range I hauled my wind and stood south. The first frigate was still in complete confusion. With my glass I could make out the men trying to cut away the wreck, but it was not long before I saw a thin wreath of smoke rising from her forward hatchway, and presently I saw her ensign half hauled down as a signal of distress to her consort, which at once gave up the chase, which she must have already seen was useless, and bore down to her. Thinking I had done enough, and being in such a stew about you all, I left them to settle matters as best they could and began to beat back to the island. When we were five miles away a pillar of smoke was rising from the frigate, and with the glass I could make out boats passing backwards and forwards between her and her consort, which was lying-to near her; and the last we could make out of her was that she was in flames from keel to truck.”

“Capital, Miller, that was splendidly done!” Martyn exclaimed. “Fancy a schooner with ten men on board destroying a forty-gun frigate. That was a capital idea of yours of heating the shot.”

“The cook is in a great way,” Miller laughed, “for we pretty well melted the galley, and we shall have to get a fresh one next time we put into port. And now tell me about your share of the day’s work.”

“Well, we have done very well,” Martyn said; “but you have quite taken down any conceit we may have felt. I quite envy you.”

“You need not do that, Martyn,” Mr. Beveridge said; “one may be as proud of saving five hundred lives as of destroying a frigate, admirable as the action was. I will tell you about our doings. I have no doubt Martyn will be too modest to do justice to himself. Ah! what is that?” He broke off as he heard the report of a gun, followed by several others.

“The Turks venting their dissatisfaction,” Martyn said. “I expected it before this. Of course they heard our cheer, but at the distance they were they may not have made out it came from the water, and I expect they were some time before they crawled forward and found out that our lines were deserted. We will fire a round of grape over their heads as a hint to them that they had better clear off, and as there is no hope of either plunder or blood they will not care about risking their lives for nothing. Will you go up, Mr. Tarleton, and just touch off one of the port guns. Don’t fire in the direction they are shooting from. We only want to frighten and not to hurt them.”

In a couple of minutes the vessel quivered as an eighteen-pounder sent its contents rattling among the rocks. Tarleton soon rejoined the party, and Mr. Beveridge proceeded to relate to Miller the events of the day.

“The next time I land, Mr. Miller,” he concluded, “I shall take good care to ascertain the nature of the ground we have to cross. I have never been accustomed to active exercise, even as a boy I never cared for it; but I could not have believed that human lungs could have failed in their action so completely, or human heart bump as mine did in going up that hill. As for the scramble along it in the dark, it was a sort of nightmare. Martyn and Zaimes hauled me along like a helpless bundle. I was only conscious of my feet continually slipping from under me, of grasping at the grass, of having my knees bruised against rocks, and of thinking every moment that my coat collar must give way and that I must roll to the bottom of the hill. Zaimes had hold of that, and Martyn of my arm, and I should say that my flesh will be black and blue for weeks. I mentally registered a vow that though I was ready to fight for the Greeks I was not ready, and never would again undertake to climb among mountains for them. There is a limit to the endurance of human nature, and the limit was very distinctly passed upon that occasion. Moreover, my dignity as a man suffered. I was humiliated at my own helplessness, and was deeply impressed with the thought that my whole life had been a mistake when it resulted in my being hauled along by Zaimes, who is a year or two older than I am, I believe. I made a resolution to practise athletic exercises, but I am afraid that, like many other good resolutions, it will be dropped with the memory of that terrible hour.”

“Where are you thinking of landing all these people, Mr. Beveridge?”

“I have not the least idea, Martyn. Where do you think?”

“So that we get rid of them as quickly as possible, sir, it doesn’t matter in the slightest. There is one thing certain, it will be weeks before we shall get the decks white again, and I should say that a thorough fumigation of her from stem to stern will be advisable. I don’t suppose the British authorities would be grateful to us if we were to dump them all down in Zante or Corfu, because it is certain they would have to feed the greater portion of them for a considerable time. On the other hand, if you land them at any Greek port there is a very strong risk of their all dying of starvation; the new government have other things to think about.”

“It is very awkward, Captain Martyn, very awkward,” Mr. Beveridge said seriously. “However, it is evident that now we have rescued them they can’t be allowed to starve.”

“There is one thing, father,” Horace put in. “I think that money would be much better laid out in feeding them than in enabling the politicians and the Klephts to spend it in gaudy dresses and in keeping bands of armed ruffians round them.”

“Certainly it would, Horace. As to where they had better be landed, I should say that we might give them their choice of say four or five places. It would be much better that they should be divided, as they would in that way be more likely to get employment than if they were all turned out at one place. Some might be landed at some of the Greek islands, some in the Morea, others at Athens, and some, perhaps, in the Ionian Islands, where they would be under the British flag.”

“I think they would be a deal better off there, father, than in Greece or the Greek islands, where at present everyone is thinking of war, and the fields are going out of cultivation. They certainly would do a great deal better in Corfu, Cephalonia, and the other islands than they would elsewhere; and if they were landed in small batches they might find work. I expect most of them have got a little money, and as living is very cheap, if you were to give them a couple of pounds a head it would enable them to live a long time while they are looking for work. Besides, there are committees on those islands for helping refugees; so I do think it would be better to land all those who have no friends in Greece, or any particular wish to go there, in our islands. I should say Zaimes and Marco might go round among them in the morning and ask if any of them have friends in the Greek islands or the mainland, and to put it to the others, that though they can be landed in Greece if they like, they will probably be better off and certainly much more free from anxiety and danger, in the Ionian Isles.”

“I think that that would be a very good plan,” Mr. Beveridge said. “When are you going to get under sail again, Captain Martyn?”

“As soon as I have finished this cup of coffee, Mr. Beveridge, we will get a boat lowered and find the buoy and pick up the anchor Miller slipped this morning. I don’t want to lose that, and the chain. As soon as we have got it on board we will be off. There is not much breeze here after dark, but we may as well get what benefit we can from it. I have no fear of the other Turkish frigate looking in here on her way back; and if she did, now that we have got all our crew on board, I have no doubt we could give a good account of her. But I want to be under weigh. There will be no comfort on board till we have got rid of our passengers. Whereabout do you think the buoy is lying, Miller?”

“I fancy we were anchored a couple of hundred yards or so farther out, and a quarter of a mile astern. You know where you landed last night. You had to march along the beach some little distance before you came to the path on the hills.”

“That is so, Miller. I am afraid we shall have some little trouble in finding it. However, we will have a try. It is just eight bells now, and it won’t be light for another six hours. I don’t want to waste that time if I can help it.”

“Well, I will take one of the gigs, and Tarleton can take the other. We will take some blue lights with us, and I expect we shall soon find it.”

“Very well. Directly you do, hang on to the buoy-rope and get the end of the chain into your gig. Hail me, and send Tarleton back. We will get up her anchor at once, and the gig and the long-boat shall tow the schooner up to you. Then you can pass the end of the chain on board, and we will get it round the capstan and have the anchor up in no time. Now, Mr. Beveridge, if you will take my advice you will turn in at once. You only got a couple of hours’ sleep last night in that orchard, and have had twenty-four hours’ really hard work.”

“I will take your advice, Martyn;” and Mr. Beveridge touched the hand-bell beside him. “Marco, you must help me to my cabin, for I am so stiff I don’t think I could get out of my chair by myself.”

“We will help you in, sir,” Martyn said; and he and Miller raised Mr. Beveridge from his chair and almost carried him into his cabin. Then they lit their pipes and went on deck.

The buoy was found after a few minutes’ search, and in another ten minutes the schooner was under-weigh and stealing out from the land.

“I will take the watch,” Miller said. “You had better all turn in. I will put a couple of the hands who remained with me at the wheel, and let all the rest lie down. As they will be on deck one can rouse them up in a minute if they are wanted.”

The next day the two Greeks went among the fugitives and questioned the heads of each family as to the number of their party, the means they possessed, and whether they had any friends in Greece. Most of them possessed a little money, the proceeds of their last harvest and vintage, and some eight or ten had sums varying from a hundred to four hundred pounds, besides the jewels of their females, which, in their cases, were of considerable value. Some of the poorer ones had literally nothing beyond the clothes in which they stood and a few almost worthless trinkets. There were not half a dozen of the whole number who had friends or connections in Greece. Some thirty of the unmarried men expressed their desire to join the Greek army and fight against the Turks; the rest thankfully embraced the offer of being landed on islands under the protection of the British flag. It took a whole day to ascertain all these particulars, and on the following day the exiles were asked to divide themselves into parties according to the villages from which they came, in order that acquaintances and relations should be landed together.

When this had been done, Zaimes distributed, in the name of Mr. Beveridge, to the head of each family a sum amounting to two pounds for each of its members, except to those whose resources were sufficient to maintain them for a considerable time.

The wind was very light, and it was six days after they weighed anchor before they entered the port of Zante. Another week was spent in landing the fugitives among the Ionian Islands, each party being in proportion to the size of the island and the facilities of obtaining employment there. The gratitude of the poor people to Mr. Beveridge, and indeed to all on board the schooner, was very great, but they were all much depressed on landing. At first their delight at having escaped with their lives was unbounded. But as the days went on, and the feeling that they had lost all else, were separated for ever from their birthplace and home, and were in future to live among strangers, overwhelmed them.

Mr. Beveridge went a great deal among them, and endeavoured to cheer them with the assurance that the war could not last very long, and that at its termination, whenever that might be, there would certainly be a general amnesty, and that all fugitives would then be permitted to return to their homes. He therefore advised them to keep this always in mind, and to lay by every penny they could spare of their earnings, so that they would eventually be able to return to Cyprus and resume their former life. When the Misericordia left Cyprus there remained on board only some half a dozen families who had friends in Greece, and the young men who intended to join the Greek army. Never did a vessel undergo a more thorough washing and cleaning up than the schooner on her voyage round to Athens. The deck was scrubbed and holy-stoned twice a day; the lower deck was equally cleaned, and, in addition, the woodwork received two coats of fresh paint, after having been thoroughly fumigated.

“The Greeks may have their virtues,” Martyn remarked to Miller, “but cleanliness on board ship is marked by its absence.”

“There is no doubt about that,” Miller agreed. “I have always heard that a cargo of Mohammedan pilgrims to Mecca was about the most painful experience a sailor could have; but I back the Greeks against them. I don’t think the schooner herself liked it. She seemed to have lost all her liveliness and to be depressed at being turned into a human pig-stye. I don’t believe it was worse between decks when she had a cargo of slaves on board.”

“Mr. Beveridge has just told me,” Martyn said, “that I am to tell the crew that at the next pay he shall give three pounds a head to each man as a reward for their work at Cyprus and the inconveniences they have been since put to.”

“They will appreciate that,” Miller said. “They certainly have been put about a good deal, and they will be pleased at the recognition of it as much as with the money. Besides, the same thing may happen again, and it is a good thing to keep them all in a good humour, especially as at present there hasn’t been any chance whatever of prize-money.”

“What are the next orders, sir?” Martyn asked Mr. Beveridge when they had finished supper.

“There will be nothing particular going on for some time, I should imagine, Captain Martyn. The Turkish army does not seem to be ready to advance, and the Greeks are not troubling themselves to get up an army at all. After the last affair every man made off with the booty he had gathered to his own village; and there, I am afraid, they are all likely to stay till a Turkish army invades them. Athens and Nauplia may hold out for some time longer – for weeks, perhaps, possibly for months. Therefore, for the present I leave it entirely with you to cruise where you think best.”

“Then, sir, we will go south. Since we have come out we have not taken a prize worth having; and I think that as prize-money was certainly one of the inducements held out to the sailors when they joined, we might as well try to pick up a few Turkish merchantmen. There is no doubt that the ships from Smyrna and all the Syrian ports, as well as from the islands, keep near land, and that even those bound for Alexandria and the African ports coast round there also. Some of these no doubt carry rich cargoes, and many will be taking Greek slaves to Alexandria and Tunis; so we shall be carrying out your object by releasing them, as well as picking up some prize-money. I think the men well deserve a little indulgence in this way. Their work has not been altogether pleasant for some time. They have been turned out of their quarters, and have had to sleep under the awning forward. I have heard no grumbling among them, for I am sure they were glad to do all they could to help the poor creatures we have had on board. Still, they will be glad of a chance of what they would consider legitimate business.”

“Very well, Captain Martyn, let it be so. I quite agree with you as to the excellent conduct of the men. They have certainly had a good deal of hardship to put up with, for everything has been very uncomfortable since our visit to Cyprus.”

In a few minutes the boatswain’s whistle was heard, followed by the tramp of the men round the capstan and the stir of getting up sail. Then the watch was set, and the schooner sped along under a gentle breeze towards the south.

For the next two months the Misericordia cruised on the coast of Syria. Scarce a day passed without some vessel being overhauled. Many of these were small coasters laden only with grain or other cargoes of small value. These were permitted to proceed on their way without interference. Of the larger vessels some contained mixed cargoes. In the cases where no Greek captives were on board, the valuable portion of the cargo was transferred to the schooner, and the ship was then permitted to proceed on her voyage. Where Greek slaves were found on board, the captain was given the choice of having the vessel burned, or giving a bond for an amount equal to half her estimated value and that of the cargo, signed by himself, the representative of the owners, if there was one on board, and the principal passengers.

These bonds could not, perhaps, have been enforced in any court; but Mr. Beveridge had confidence in the honesty of the Turks, and in every case the amounts were duly forwarded to the agents he named. Seven ships contained valuable cargoes of silks, tobacco, and wine. These were all bound for Alexandria and Tunis, and carried a considerable number of Greek women and children, the survivors of massacres in towns in Asia Minor. In these cases the Turks were all placed in their boats within two or three miles of land, and the vessels with prize crews on board were consigned to Greeks at Corinth and Athens, who had undertaken to act as Mr. Beveridge’s agents, and who were to dispose of them and their cargoes to Greek merchants.

CHAPTER XI

IN THE HANDS OF THE TURKS

TOWARDS the end of the cruise the schooner had just returned to the coast of Asia Minor after having run across to Athens and taken on board the officers and men who had sailed the last prizes taken there. On the day after they took up their place on their cruising ground they fell in with a large polacca brig. The vessel mounted ten small guns, and fought with some obstinacy, and it was not until Martyn placed the schooner so that she could rake the brig’s decks, which were crowded with men, that she hauled down her flag.

“Lower two boats, Miller. You take charge of one and Tarleton the other. By the look of those fellows I don’t believe they are Turks at all. I believe they are from Algiers or Tunis; pirates at ordinary times, but who have come here to pick up slaves cheap. They are treacherous beggars, so be on your guard. There is a very strong crew. Don’t row alongside till I lay the schooner broadside on.”

In five minutes Miller hailed from the deck of the prize, “You are right, sir, they are Algerines, and as cut-throat a looking lot as ever I came across. She is crowded below with Greek women and girls, and as far as I can see at present she has no cargo of any sort. I have sent one of the boats for Marco. He can speak to the women, who are making a fearful hubbub down below.”

“Have you disarmed the crew, Mr. Miller?”

“Mr. Tarleton has just finished that. We have had to knock a good many of the scoundrels down. They are as savage as wildcats.”

The schooner was brought alongside the polacca and lashed there. The deck of the prize showed that the fire of the schooner had been terribly destructive. Over twenty bodies lay scattered about, principally round the guns.

“Are they all dead?” Martyn asked as he stepped on board.

“They are all dead now, but they were not when we boarded her. But as they lay there they fired their pistols among us. Two or three pretended to be dead, and then sprang up, knife in hand, and several of the men have got nasty cuts; so that was soon put a stop to. Some of the fellows below made quite a fight of it, and the men had to use their cutlasses pretty freely. However, they are all disarmed and bound now. I have no doubt they are Algerine pirates, and deserve to be hung to the yard-arm every man-jack of them.”

“Have you overhauled the hold yet?”

“Yes, sir. It is filled with these unhappy slaves. She evidently came merely in ballast, with money to buy them.”

“Well, no doubt these fellows have been pirates, Mr. Miller, but as we have no means to prove it we must let them go as we have the others, though it is a nuisance, for they only warn the people at the ports against us. We won’t put them on the mainland this time, but land them on one of the little islands. They may be some time in getting a craft to take them to the mainland, and then they will find it rough work making along the coast. However, we can settle upon that later. The first thing to do is to get the decks roughly cleaned and the dead bodies thrown overboard.”

A dozen men were set to work with mops and buckets, while others fastened shot to the feet of the Algerines and dropped them overboard. As soon as this was done Marco was sent below to tell the captives that they could come on deck.

As the women poured up, looking almost dazed at their sudden release, and at the bright sunlight after the stifling atmosphere of the dark hold in which they had been confined for six days, Horace saw one of them, a woman of some five-and-thirty years of age, to whose side a girl of fifteen was clinging, looking round with an air of excitement, in strong contrast to the comparative apathy of the others. She glanced round at him and the men engaged in tidying up the deck, and then with a cry sank fainting on the deck. He hurried up to her, and partly raised her, when he was struck by the cry of the girl, “Oh, mother, mother!” He looked at her in astonishment.

“Are you English?” he exclaimed.

“Yes,” she cried, “we are English; but we have been seized and carried away by these horrid Turks. Mother said she fancied she heard some shouts in English, but she thought she must have been mistaken, as only a Greek came down and spoke to us in the hold, and she did not think it possible that it could be English. And have you rescued us out of the hands of the Turks, sir? Mother said they were taking us away to sell us as slaves.”

“Yes, we have rescued you,” Horace said. “You are free now. If you will hold your mother’s head for a moment I will fetch the doctor; we have one on board.”

“If you would get a little water, sir, she will soon come round. She has fainted several times since we were captured.”