Turkish Harems & Circassian Homes

by Andrée Hope

The hospital is almost the only place that has not suffered severely from the effects of the fiery hail that was so incessantly pouring into the town. A flag showed where the unhappy wounded were lying, and as far as possible the building was spared by the besiegers; still its scorched and blackened sides and some yawning holes tell that it did not altogether escape.

Near it is a small chapel, now almost a ruin, a sad memento of the sufferings of some of our poor fellows. Towards the latter end of the siege, space, air, attendants, and surgical aid were all lamentably inefficient to supply even the pressing needs of the masses of wounded who were brought in.

During the last few days also the confusion that reigned in the town almost overcame discipline. No sooner was the evacuation decided upon than orders were given that, not only were the Russian wounded to be conveyed immediately to the north side, but that all valuables that could not be removed at the same time were to be burnt during the last night, not only to prevent them from falling into the hands of the enemy, but that the smoke should conceal the movements of the Russians; for this reason also many portions of the town were set on fire. It may easily be imagined, therefore, that there was but little time or attention given to the unhappy wounded of the enemy who were to be left behind; so, when the allies entered the deserted city, terrible were some of the scenes that met their eyes. In this very chapel a harrowing sight was beheld, for many of our poor countrymen were lying here unheeded and untended, yet alive, with the dead in heaps around them.

The harbour of Sevastopol is supposed to be unequalled for size, depth of water, and security. It very much resembles Plymouth in the number of arms that branch off from the main channel. The entrance is so broad and easy of access that vessels can run in for shelter with almost any wind, and when inside the forts the various channels are so completely landlocked that ships can lie in perfect safety whatever sea may rage outside.

The navigation within is, however, now somewhat difficult, as the Russians sank nearly all the vessels then in port when the English fleet appeared before Sevastopol, and though most of the wrecks have been raised, still enough remain to require skilful pilotage to avoid the hidden dangers.

The only cheerful place in all Sevastopol (out-of-door cheerfulness, that is—not the many friendly houses that were always open to us) was a small promenade, consisting of the ghost of once beautiful pleasure-gardens, where the band played on fine evenings.

Here the few people left in Sevastopol would assemble at sunset to listen to the excellent music and enjoy the cool evening air. As night came on the scene would be very pretty. Darkness hid the ruins around, so that the stars seemed only to shine on glistening white monuments; the lights from the vessels in the harbour quivered like lines of silver as they were reflected in the gently rippling water; and when at last the whole glory of heaven was unfolded, the dark-blue arch above seemed one dazzling array of brilliant stars.

Those who have not seen them can form no idea of the glorious beauty of the nights in these southern countries. The stars do not twinkle, they blaze with bright silver light, and the eye in vain endeavours to penetrate the glittering maze of which the heavens seem formed.

We find that this summer is considered at Sevastopol rather hotter than the average, but we have seldom found the heat very oppressive. The sun is powerful during the day, and often beats fiercely upon the dry, parched soil. It is well therefore, if possible, to avoid exposing oneself to the great heat of midday; but at sunset the fresh sea-breeze always sets in, and the nights are cool and invigorating.

Amongst the many advantages yachtsmen enjoy over travellers by land is the inestimable one of being nearly always sure of a breeze at night, and none but those who have travelled much in warm climates can tell how great that blessing is. Fatigue and heat during the day can well be borne when one is sure of a quiet and refreshing sleep. Another comfort also is comparative freedom from mosquitoes and flies. How often when we have been doomed to spend the night in some wretched inn or house, half-stifled by the heat and bad smells, tormented beyond endurance by swarms of mosquitoes, sand-flies, fleas, or perhaps worse, have we sighed for the little cabins with their comfortable elastic mattresses, the fresh clean sheets, and the cool night wind that would have been fanning us as we rocked in our dear Claymore!