My horse fell four times, and rolled me in the mud, for I could not help myself. We got into the boat which was to take us to Enzelli (or the steamer—I forget which), and then I went off into a series of faints. Now, as a man can’t sham faints, I suppose the Colonel came to the conclusion that I was really ill. Anyhow, he was most kind to me; and as he went on with us as far as Lenkoran, on the Caspian, both he and Sir A. Kemball were lavish in kindness and attention.
I was very wretched indeed, for the spurt being over, I utterly broke down, and I fear I proved a wretched fellow-traveller to Sir A. Kemball, with whom I went as far as Petersburg. Of the Caspian journey I remember nothing. I had a week’s rest in my berth, during which I lived on wine and broth, only moving when I was obliged, or when we changed steamers.
When we got to Moscow we went to the Grand Opera and saw a Russian patriotic opera, called ‘A Life for the Czar.’ The music was pretty, the dresses interesting. It was well played and well sung by Russian singers. Another night we saw ‘La Muette di Portici’ (Masaniello) in Italian; and the third time we went, a grand ballet in five acts, that lasted four hours—oh! and I had a cricked neck at the time.
From Moscow to Petersburg is a run of twenty-four hours in a straight line, for when the railway was about to be constructed the then Emperor Nicholas, having the plans placed before him, took a pen, and, drawing with a ruler a straight line between the two places, indicated the route he wished, with a smile. At enormous expense every difficulty was surmounted, and the direct route was made. It is literally from Moscow to Petersburg, and no large town is touched. This is the story; the map says nearly a straight line.
I went home direct by rail from Petersburg, getting to Brighton November 1st, 1868, was in bed three weeks, and an invalid for three months. However, I got the balance of my sick leave cancelled, and came back to my duties before it was over.
On March 5th, 1869, I again set out for Persia, viâ Marseilles, leaving London at a quarter to eight A.M. I got to Paris at six P.M., took a cab for the Lyons station, caught the mail which left at a quarter past seven P.M., and arrived in Marseilles on the 6th at noon. Being very tired, I went on board at once, and succeeded in getting a state-room all to myself; slept till four. At five P.M. we started in a tremendous sea, dead-lights up, and the violin (planks fixed with cords to prevent the table equipage leaving the table) at dinner. The steamer was one of the Messageries Maritimes, the Illysse, screw, two hundred and eighty horsepower.
The next day (the 7th) we entered the Straits of Bonifacio at four P.M., where the weather was fine but cold; passing Garibaldi’s house in Caprera, a small white building, Corsica, and Sardinia; then the “passage of the Bear,” so called from there being a figure formed by nature at the summit of the lofty rocks somewhat like a bear. The scenery of Corsica and Sardinia seems very desolate and rocky. Monday morning, Italy—fine and warm. Tuesday, 9th, at ten P.M., came to Messina; saw nothing. Half-past five next morning we started. Wednesday, very rough all day; only four at dinner; awful night; rounded Cape Matapan at eleven P.M. Wind, which was before in our teeth, then in our favour; impossible to sleep from cries of the sick and continuous smashing of crockery.
Thursday, 11th.—Splendid day, fair wind; reached the Piræus (port of Athens) in a lovely sun; water blue, smooth, and clear. Unable to go to the Acropolis, as our captain said we might start at any moment (you see it well in the distance). I saw the railway opened. The Queen was present; she is pretty, and very gracious. Left same day at five P.M.; awful night.
March 12th.—Very fine, fair wind. Saw the supposed site of ancient Troy. Supposed tombs of Hector and Achilles two large tumuli. Lovely scenery down Dardanelles. Stopped an hour at Gallipoli.