Suddenly I heard people on shore calling out (I forgot to mention that ships in Batoum harbour are always lashed to the shore). I sent my officer to reconnoitre, who found a gaping crowd standing round what they thought was a large fish lashing his tail, but what in reality was an unexploded torpedo with the screw still in motion. On things being calm I went myself to see what had happened generally during the attack, and found that a torpedo had struck the bows of one of the ironclads on the belt, at the waterline at an angle, had exploded, and scarcely left a mark; that a second torpedo had, after passing through the planks on the defensive barrier I had placed, diverged from its course, and gone quietly on shore as far as the left of the squadron; that a third, as I said, had struck the chain of the flagship and not gone off, but had run on to the beach. The parts of another torpedo were afterwards picked up, it evidently having exploded somewhere down below. So we could account for four torpedoes having been fired at us without effect; probably there were more. Those that were on the beach were in a very perfect state, and as soon as we had rendered them harmless, we made prisoners of war of them. Now I have been since informed of what went on outside Batoum. It seems that for three nights two fast Russian steamers, carrying torpedo boats, had been looking for Batoum, and as one of my informants said, 'We could not find it for love or money.' A couple of hours before daylight they had steamed off, so as to be out of sight before break of day. At last they had bribed a man to light a fire in the hills behind the town, and so on the fourth night they got somewhere near it, but they could not make out the ships on account of the dark land behind them. The time for steaming off having nearly come, they determined to have a shot at us, so fired five torpedoes into what they thought the centre of the Turkish fleet, with what result we have seen. The person who told me was one of them, and said it was sickening work looking for Batoum. It is true the nights were fearfully dark, so that the shape of the land could not be made out. He said that without the traitor's light they could not have found us. I am not saying by this that one should always trust to darkness; there are many other ways now of taking the sting out of torpedo attacks. It is needless to say that the steamers I sent out returned, having seen nothing. While the fleet was at Batoum, two or three more torpedo attacks were made on a smaller scale without effect; but I have bored my readers enough about torpedoes—all I know is that I can sleep now when in their vicinity. While in the Black Sea I several times went with two or three ships that could be spared from other duties and reconnoitred Sebastopol and Odessa, but being fully convinced of the helplessness of few or even of many ships against the heavy batteries of the present day, I did no more than look about me, occasionally exchanging shots with the enemy. As to burning defenceless towns and villages, I have always been thoroughly adverse to such things, so I never undertook it. Some people think war should be made as horrible as possible; in this I do not agree. I could easily have burnt the Emperor's palace at Yalta, but did not think it expedient to do so.
I have already spoken in general terms of the great services rendered by the ironclads in moving the troops about, but I feel that, in justice to the gallant crews of the squadron I had the honour to command during the war, I ought not to bring this portion of my narrative to a close without mentioning more particularly a piece of work of that nature executed under my immediate direction.
The capture of Soukhoum-Kaleh had been followed up by the despatch of an expedition of some 4,000 men of all arms to a place some thirty miles down the coast, called Tchamchira. The military commander at Soukhoum had some idea, I believe, that this force would be able to make its way inland, and thus encourage risings amongst the tribes against the detested Muscovite rule. The country, however, was too unfavourable for the advance of invading troops, being swampy ground with thick bush where it was not an impenetrable forest. The Russians also got wind of the intended movement, and to make a long story short, had managed to collect a large opposing force. The expedition was landed, but that is all. Before much could be done to secure the position as a base—whilst the men in fact were making entrenchments—the Russians, who under cover of the forest that extended right down to the beach on either side had been stealthily making their preparations, attacked them on all sides, and but for the covering fire of the ironclads, fortunately still at anchor there, would undoubtedly have driven them into the sea.
The result of this action enabled the force to establish itself in the village, and hold possession of the small belt of cleared ground around it, the extreme limit of which was still within the range of the guns of the ironclads.
The position of this force, however, daily grew worse. The Russians had captured the fords, by which their retreat to Soukhoum was cut off. They were completely surrounded, and only owed their preservation to the continual presence of an ironclad. Under these circumstances it was thought advisable to withdraw the men, and Dervish Pasha entrusted me with the task. To give an idea of the precarious position of this force, I may mention that, as I approached the place in my flagship, we heard the sound of smart cannonading, and I found the guard-ship engaged with a battery of field-pieces. The Russians had recently received a large accession of force, and several field-guns of large calibre; and so, not content with troubling the camp daily with an enfilading fire, had thought to try conclusions with the heavy guns afloat. On our appearance the action ceased, the Russians withdrawing their battery into the safe shelter of the forest. The Russian fire had been well directed, and had the guns been heavier calibre, considerable damage would have been inflicted. As it was, the upper works and rigging were cut about a great deal, and two men killed and four wounded on board the ironclad. After a conference with the general in command, I proceeded to Soukhoum to make arrangements for transport. I had hardly arrived there when a message from Tchamchira arrived, urgently demanding assistance, as the Russians were advancing in great force. I hurried back with all the vessels I could collect to Tchamchira, three ironclad corvettes and two wooden paddle-wheel transports. Fortunately the Russian attack had not commenced, and the arrival of my squadron probably led to its postponement until too late. To remove 4,000 men, bag and baggage, with several batteries of field-pieces and a large amount of ammunition, was no easy task with the small amount of transport at my command. I made, however, what I considered to be the best disposition possible under the circumstances.
The corvettes and the paddle transports were moored in as close to the shore as possible, my intention being to cram them with men and stores first, leaving my flagship free to the last to manœuvre off the Russian camp and shell it, should the slightest opposition be offered to the embarkation. The work commenced at daylight, and was actively carried on throughout the day and following night, the last batch of men coming off at dawn. The men were taken away from under the very teeth, as it were, of the Russians. The ships in shore were well within rifle range, and the boats passing to and fro were exposed the whole time to a fire from hidden foes. The enemy had been evidently overawed by my preparations, and doubtless thought it would be better for them to allow the invading force to retire unopposed. To avoid the chance of grounding, in case I should have to use the frigate fire to cover the embarkation, a volunteer crew had proceeded off the Russian camp during the night, and laid down a line of buoys, to show the limit of distance to which the shore might be approached with safety. These buoys, glistening in the sunlight, doubtless suggested to the Russians that something dreadful was in store for them if they attempted to fire a gun, and so they contented themselves with watching from the trees, amongst the branches of which we saw a number of them perched like so many birds of prey. The whole credit of the embarkation is due to the efficient manner in which the naval officers under my command carried out the instructions given them, and the great docility of the Turkish soldiers. Soon after sunset the general and staff left the shore, and their example was followed by every military officer of any rank; so that the whole work devolved upon those I had placed in command of the beach and the boats.
The men marched down quietly by themselves and everything went on like clockwork. I must confess that I passed a most anxious night, as I knew not but what at any moment the enemy might make a rush into the entrenchments the Turks were abandoning, in order to claim a victory. My own ship was getting lumbered up, and I knew that before long it would be impossible to work more than one or two of the guns in case of need. That the Russians, however, could not know this, was my comfort; but I must own that it was a great relief to me when the last detachment left the shore. The poor fellows had been holding the outposts all night. They came in at the double, and little time was lost over their embarkation.
We steamed off at once to Soukhoum, and there disembarked the expedition. Shortly after this I was called upon to prepare for a veritable exodus. The evacuation of Soukhoum had been decided upon, but His Imperial Majesty felt that the poor people, who had been expecting a permanent deliverance from the Russian yoke, could not be abandoned to those whose vengeance they had excited. Intimation was therefore given that all those desirous of leaving the country should be carried to Turkish territory, and provided with lands to form new settlements. The whole population pretty well made up its mind to leave, and came marching into Soukhoum with their flocks and herds, and household goods and chattels. Suffice it to say that, with the vessels under my command, I shipped off and landed at Batoum, Trebizonde, Sinope, and other ports on the Turkish coast something like 50,000 people, counting men, women, and children, within the space of a fortnight.