An ironclad corvette that accompanied me, though some miles astern at the finish, ran so close in that she had her rudder shot away, and we had the unpleasant task of towing her out under a fire more like a hailstorm of shot and shell than anything I can compare it to. I am told the 'Livadia' would have shown fight. I have no doubt she would; Russians always fight well: but I think the result would not have been doubtful, and the Emperor's crockery and glass, to say nothing of the magnificent gettings-up in the cabins, would have lost much of their lustre during an engagement. So the glory of taking the Emperor's yacht into the Bosphorus was not to be mine. I cannot express my disappointment at losing such a chance. The only consolation I have is that I really believe the brave Russians would have blown her up, rather than allow such a disgrace to fall on their flag.
Since the war a Russian naval officer told me that he had under his command at Sebastopol, on the day of my chasing the 'Livadia' into that port, seven torpedo boats, with which he volunteered to go out and attack us. His request was not allowed. We discussed at some length the probable result. These are my views and arguments. I said to him, 'When I saw your boats coming out I should have steamed away. Now the speed of my frigate is thirteen knots. You would probably have had a speed of nineteen to twenty at most. Thus your rate of approaching me would have been six knots, no great speed with which to approach a vessel armed with Nordenfelt guns, and six other guns also, en barbette, firing grape, shell, &c. I am convinced we should have destroyed all the torpedo boats.' 'Well, then,' said the Russian officer, 'I should have followed and attacked you during the night.' 'There again,' I said, 'I think you would have failed, because before dark you could not have got near enough to me, on account of the opposition you would have met with from my fire, to remark the course I steered after sunset, which course I should have frequently changed during the darkness. A ship cannot be seen in the dark if she shows no light at more than five hundred yards' distance, and a moving ship would have been most difficult to hit; besides which, if I had stopped and put down my defences, what could you have done?' This discussion ended in the Russian officer admitting that he did not think he could have done much.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE TURKISH FLEET DURING THE WAR.
To return to the doings of the Turkish fleet in the Black Sea during the war, Sulina was a point from the beginning always aimed at by the Russians. In fact, according to my humble ideas, Russia went to war to get possession of Bessarabia, the key of the Danube, and Batoum, the key to Asia Minor, and in a great measure to our Indian possessions. I think the sentimental story of massacres in Bulgaria was merely a blind whereby to catch the sympathetic support of Europe, and more especially the English philanthropists. I think this, because when the most awful cruelties were committed by the Bulgarians on the Turks after the war, we heard no outcry about massacres. However, I must not introduce politics into Sketches from a sailor's life; such would be out of place. Constant attacks were made by land and by sea on Sulina, which was held and defended by Turkish ships and their crews, who manned the small batteries they had planted at the mouth of the river. To the Russians, to destroy the Turkish squadron lying off that port was of great importance, as Sulina is entirely surrounded by water and great impassable marshes, which extend far inland, through which marshes the Danube runs, and thus can always be defended by ships.
The Turkish squadron generally consisted of five or six ironclads, and as the Russians had not ships wherewith to attack these ironclads, torpedo attacks (of which so much was and is expected) was their only chance.
My idea of defending these vessels when at anchor was by a cordon of guard-boats, with ropes made fast between them, so as to catch any attacking torpedo boat, either by fouling her screw as she advanced, or by stopping entirely her progress. Moreover, a torpedo boat thus stopped would, by catching the rope, draw the guard-boat on either side of her, or right on top of her. I must admit that while torpedoes at that time were supposed to be in their infancy, the defence prepared against their attack was also very much in its infancy, so these preparations were of the most primitive description.
The squadron, as I said, consisted of five vessels, which had been in the habit of standing out to sea every night, to avoid torpedo attacks. On the occasion I am writing about, they had returned to the anchorage on account of bad weather. A Russian steamer with five torpedo boats in tow started (as we afterwards learnt) from Odessa to hunt for the Turkish squadron, which, it was known to them through their spies, was in the habit of cruising off Serpent's Island, about eight miles from Odessa. The Muscovites were unable to find their enemy, and I don't wonder at it, for they were not in their usual cruising ground; even had they been there, to find them would have been difficult, as the Turkish ships always cruised in open order, burnt smokeless coal, and showed no lights. On being disappointed in finding what she wanted at sea, the Russian vessel steamed towards the anchorage off Sulina. As the weather was bad, her commander decided not to attack, and I fancy had to cast off his torpedo boats.