In Greek Waters: A Story of the Grecian War of Independence

by G. A. Henty

The three divisions, in spite of the opposition of the Turks, attacked with such fury that they made their way through the lines of the enemy; but the people of Missolonghi itself, who were to form the fourth division and follow the others, were seized with a panic and fell back into the town. Had the Greeks outside fulfilled their promise, and moved forward a body of troops stationed a short distance away to receive the defenders of the place when they reached the open country, all the rest would have been saved; but instead of the fifteen hundred who were to have met them, but fifty were there. The Turkish cavalry and the Albanians harassed and cut them up, and even those who gained the shelter of the hills received no assistance from the irregulars, and many perished from hunger and disease, and finally only fifteen hundred escaped. The soldiers left behind in Missolonghi either by wounds or sickness intrenched themselves in stone buildings, and there defended themselves till the last, blowing up the magazines and dying in the ruins when they could no longer hold out. Four thousand Greeks were killed, three thousand were taken prisoners, chiefly women and children, and two thousand altogether escaped. The Acropolis of Athens resisted stoutly for a long time, but at last fell. The Greeks were defeated in almost every action upon which they entered, and affairs went from bad to worse, until the European governments at last determined to interfere; and their united fleets destroyed that of the Turks at the battle of Navarino, and forced Turkey to grant the independence of Greece.

As these events happened Mr. Beveridge followed their course with interest, but it was only with the interest shown by Englishmen in general. His personal feeling in the matter had entirely left him. During the last four years of the struggle there was no sign whatever that misfortune and disaster had had any effect in inducing the Greeks to lay aside their personal jealousies and ambitions, or to make any common effort against the enemy. The large sums they had received from the loans raised for the most part in England were spent in the most unworthy uses. They covered their uniforms with gold lace, and the dress of the men on foot often cost fifty pounds; those of horsemen ten times that amount. They affected all through to despise the Turks, and yet, except the fifteen hundred men under Dikaios and the defenders of Missolonghi, they never once opposed anything like an obstinate resistance to them, and the last show of resistance was almost crushed out when the intervention of Europe saved them.

The Creole had been laid up after her return from the Arctic Seas. Mr. Beveridge had purchased a large share in a fine East Indiaman, making the proviso that Martyn should be appointed to the command, he himself buying a share in her with the money he had earned during the four years’ service on board the schooner. Mr. Beveridge had, to the immense satisfaction of his aunt, Mrs. Fordyce, entirely abandoned the study of Greek, devoted himself to the affairs of his estate, became an active magistrate, and had, three years after his return, stood for Parliament as member for the county, and had won the seat. Horace was twenty when they returned from the north. He had a long talk with his father as to his future prospects and career. He was too old now to take up the thread of his studies again or to go to the university, and he finally determined, at the advice of his father, to study for the bar.

“You will never have any occasion to practise, Horace, but a few months every year in London will make a pleasant change for you; and as you may look to be a county magistrate some day you will find a knowledge of the law very useful to you. You will be in London five or six months every year, then you will have your shooting and hunting in the winter, and we will have two or three months’ cruise together in the Creole. I find that our expedition in Greece cost me, one way and another, just fifteen thousand pounds, which is a good deal less than I should have thrown away if it had not been for your advice. I hear that it is likely that Sir James Hobhouse’s estate will be in the market before long, and I think, as it almost adjoins ours, I shall buy it. I fancy that I shall get it for about thirty thousand pounds. That I should settle on you at once. I am not fifty yet, and feel that I have more life in me than I ever had, and I don’t want you to be waiting another twenty or thirty years to step into my shoes. Its management will be an occupation for you, and then you can marry whenever you feel inclined.”

This happened four years later; it arose out of a meeting at a dinner party in London. Horace had taken down a very pretty girl to whom he had just been introduced. He thought that she looked at him rather curiously when his name was mentioned. They chatted on all sorts of subjects during dinner, and when the ladies arose to go she said: “Please find me out when you come upstairs. I have a question I particularly want to ask you, but I could not very well do it here. Please do not forget, for it is important.” A good deal puzzled Horace made his way upstairs as soon as he could and saw that the girl was with another lady sitting in a quiet corner of the drawing-room. He crossed to them at once. “Mother,” the young lady said, “this is Mr. Beveridge.”

“You are right, Ada,” the lady said, rising and holding out her hand, “I recognize him at once now I see him. Oh, Mr. Beveridge, you do not know how we have longed to see you again, and you don’t know us, do you?”

“No, I can’t say that I do, madam,” Horace replied, more and more astonished.

“I am the lady you saved from being sold as a slave at Algiers when you captured the ship we were in off the coast of Asia Minor. This is my daughter. No wonder you don’t remember us for I was a strange-looking creature in that Greek dress, and Ada was but a child.”

“I remember you now, Mrs. Herbert,” Horace exclaimed. “I ought to have done so before, as we were four or five days on board together.”

“You must have thought us so ungrateful,” Mrs. Herbert said; “but we were not so; we never knew where to write to when you were out in Greece. Then two or three years afterwards we heard from someone who had been out there that you had returned, and my husband, who left Smyrna and came back to England after we got back, made all sorts of inquiries, and found out at last that you had gone away again on an Arctic expedition. Then he went out to Malta, where we have been living for the last three years, and only returned a month ago to England. My husband had to return to Smyrna; he had large business connections there that could not be broken off suddenly. Nothing could induce me ever to return there, but it was an easy run for him to Malta, and he was able to come and stay with us for a week or so every two or three months. For the last year he was training the son of the senior partner of the house to take his place at Smyrna, and he himself has now come back altogether, as Mr. Hamblyn has now retired, and he is the head of the firm. He is not here to-night, but will be delighted to hear that we have found you.”