I will explain hereafter how many attacks were made with no result whatever. Some few days before the war broke out I was sent to examine the Danube from a professional point of view, and it was soon made clear to me that much could be done, in the way of defending that great estuary, had nautical experience and the splendid material of which the Turkish sailor is made of been properly utilised. But alas! I found that, contrary to the views of His Majesty the Sultan, a line of action was followed showing that pig-headed obstinacy and the grossest ignorance prevailed in the councils of those who had supreme command in that river. I found that my advice and that of competent Turkish officers, in comparatively subordinate positions like myself, was entirely ignored, and that few, if any, proper steps were taken to prevent the enemy's progress into Roumania, and later on, to his passing the Danube almost unopposed.
On the day that war was declared I was at Rustchuk, the headquarters of the Turkish army. On that occasion I made a final effort, by making propositions which events have proved would have arrested the advance of the enemy.
I was simply told to mind my own business, and ordered to immediately rejoin my ships, which were at the moment lying at the Sulina mouth of the Danube.
It was all very well to tell me to do this; but to do so was apparently not so easy of execution, for the reason that the Russians had no sooner declared war than they took possession of the Lower Danube, by planting fortifications on the hills commanding the river in the neighbourhood of Galatz and Ibraila, at the same time laying down torpedoes across the river in great quantities (as regards the latter, it was so reported, though in my opinion it was no easy matter so quickly to place torpedoes). I informed the military commanders of this; their answer was, 'Go, and rejoin your ships viâ Varna, if you will only get out of this; we don't want your advice.' By this time, however, my professional pride was wounded, and I determined to do something to show my contempt for them all.
The only thing left for me to do for the moment was a little blockade-running, so I resolved to bring my ship back past the Russian barrier in the Lower Danube at all risks, instead of tamely returning by land. So great was the jealousy against me that I almost think the Turkish authorities commanding in the Danube would have been pleased if I had failed, and so come to grief. I had with me a very fast paddle-steamer called the 'Rethymo'; her captain and crew were what the Turks always are—brave as lions and obedient as lambs.
I took on board a river pilot, whom I gave to understand that if he got me on shore I would blow his brains out. Before starting I sent for my officers and crew and told them of the perhaps unnecessary dangers we should run in passing the Russian barrier, and gave to all the option of leaving or going on. They decided to a man to go on. I arranged my time so as to pass Ibraila and Galatz during the night. We arrived to within thirty miles of the former place at about five o'clock in the evening, when I was met by a Turkish official who was leaving Ibraila on the war having broken out. He was fearfully excited, and begged of me on his knees not to go to what he called certain destruction. He told me that he had seen the Russians laying down torpedoes that same day, that the batteries were numerous, and that they were aware of my coming, &c., all of which I took with a considerably large grain of salt, and left him lamenting my mad folly, as he called it.
Now I must be candid. I did not feel the danger. I calculated that to put down torpedoes in a current such as was in the Danube would be a matter of time, and probably they would not succeed after all. I had a plan in my head for passing the batteries, so as to render them harmless. So in reality I was about to attempt no very impossible feat. Three hours after dusk we sighted the lights of Ibraila. The current was running quite five knots an hour; that, added to our speed of fifteen, made us to be going over the ground at about twenty knots. It was pitch dark, and I think it would have puzzled the cleverest gunner to have hit us, though they might have done so by chance. I determined not to give them that chance, by going so close under the bank that the guns could hardly be sufficiently depressed to hit us.
As we approached the batteries to my horror a flash of red flame came out of the funnel (that fatal danger in blockade-running), on which several rockets were thrown up from the shore, and a fire was opened at where the flame had been seen. Meanwhile we had shot far away from the place, and closed right under the batteries. I heard the people talking; every now and then they fired shot and musketry, but I hardly heard the whiz of the projectiles. My principal anxiety was that we might get on one of the many banks so common in the Danube, and I had perhaps a little fear of torpedoes, especially when we passed the mouths of the little estuaries that run into the Danube; once we just touched the ground, but thank goodness we quickly got free, and though fired at by guns and rifles, went on unhurt. It took us exactly an hour and forty minutes to pass dangerous waters, and the early summer morning was breaking as we cleared all danger. I could not resist turning round and firing a random shot at the banks studded with Russian tents, now that I was able to breathe freely again.
I must say that my pilot, whom I at first suspected of being a traitor in Russian pay, behaved splendidly.
He told me he had never passed such a night of fear and anxiety: what with my cocked pistol at his head and the constant fear of putting the vessel on a bank, he certainly had had a bad time. However, I rewarded him well. On arrival at Toultcha, a small town near the mouth of the Danube, still held by the Turks, I found telegrams from headquarters at Rustchuk (the place I had left), inquiring if Hobart Pasha had passed Ibraila and Galatz, and ordering that if he had done so he was immediately to leave the Danube.