The remainder of our march to Gasko was in the plain, and presented few objects to attract attention, unless it was another victim of fell disease. A poor girl, suffering from elephantiasis, was one of the only women whom I had seen for many days. Her foot was swollen to an incredible size, and I have been since informed that it is not an uncommon complaint in those countries. As usual, we found the force already encamped at Gasko drawn up to receive us, four mountain guns on either flank. These were mounted, and drawn by two mules. In places inaccessible to wheeled carriages, they are carried, as in our own service, by two mules, viz. the gun on one, and the carriage on the other.
The infantry presented a more creditable appearance than any I had yet seen, and the encampment generally looked clean and orderly. Camp life is under no circumstances a very agreeable phase of existence, and least of all in Eastern countries, when divested of the excitement resulting from the probability of an attack. In other lands there is sure to be something to attract the mind. Staff officers in gay uniforms pass and repass in all the importance of official haste, cornets of cavalry bent on performing the onerous duties of galloper, and the pompous swagger of infantry drum-majors, all combine to vary the scene and amuse the eye. But in Turkey this is not so. All are equally dirty and unkempt, while the hideous attempts at music have very far from a soothing effect. An attentive listener may hear a single voice four times in the day calling to prayer, a custom which, under no circumstances, is ever omitted. Of the internal response to this appeal I am of course unable to judge, but from outward appearance I should imagine it to be small. The Pachas, it is true, indulge in the somewhat unintellectual amusement of twiddling a chain of beads, talking on indifferent subjects the while; but I never observed even this small tribute of respect amongst the inferior officers. And thus the day wears on in dull monotony, until at sunset a crash of many voices may be heard from the centre of the camp, rising up to heaven, and calling down a blessing on their Sultan's head.
Immediately upon his arrival at Gasko, Omer Pacha had betaken himself to the only habitable house in the adjacent village, coming down to camp with early morning. I consequently became the guest of Osman Pacha, who treated me with uniform kindness. It is a strange coincidence that almost every Turkish Pacha, whatever may have been his origin, however low his moral character, possesses a dignity of deportment and a charm of manner which among Europeans is deemed an infallible test of a kind heart and high breeding. This, however, does not apply in its full sense to Osman, for a more amiable and moral old gentleman never breathed. Indeed, I much fear that the good qualities of his heart somewhat eclipsed those of his head, as subsequent events will show. Many of his remarks, however, were shrewd and pointed enough; thus, while comparing the English with the Turkish soldier, he very candidly admitted that the former carried off the palm in the matter of fighting, with the following reservations—that the Turk is content to serve with a very considerable arrear of pay, and with very little in the way of clothing or nourishment; that he is able to endure equal if not greater fatigue and hardship; and lastly, that he does not indulge in strong drinks. All this must be admitted by the most prejudiced arbitrator; nor is it the highest eulogium to which the Moslem soldier is entitled. Habits of order and obedience, which are only sustained in European armies by the strictest discipline, form part of the national character, and therefore render the minuter details of military economy unnecessary. That they will ever become sufficiently familiarised with their European clothing as to present a smart appearance, is improbable; yet their parade movements are even now performed with considerable accuracy and rapidity in the loose shuffling manner in vogue amongst the French, while of their prowess in the field we have had ample proofs on divers occasions—whether in the European campaign of 1828, when, despite the confusion resulting from the recent destruction of the Janissaries, they beat the Russians at all points; or in Asia during that and the following years, where, if not so successful, they often displayed a heroism unsurpassed in history. Or, coming down to the present time, we have but to recall the noble stand made at Kars and Silistria, which, almost without defences, they held for months against the most determined efforts of Mouravieff and Paskievitch. Singularly enduring, brave, and obedient, they require only good leading to form them into one of the most effective armies of the world. But this is precisely the one thing in which they are most strikingly deficient, and of which there is little hope of any permanent amelioration.
In no department of the public administration are the baneful effects of that spirit of insincerity and rapacity, which is almost universal at Constantinople, more apparent than in the army. Money drawn upon the authority of false returns, and eventually appropriated by the highest people of the land, affords an example of peculation and dishonesty which is carried out through all ranks, and the result is that the greater portion of the army has received no pay for more than six-and-twenty months. There is reason to believe that this system of sending in false numerical returns has been of late carried to an incredible extent. The nominal strength of the Turkish army is as follows:—6 corps d'armées, each consisting of 6 regiments of 4 battalions, each battalion numbering 1,000 effective men, with a proportion of cavalry and artillery to each corps d'armée.
This gives us 144,000 regular infantry; and yet I have good authority for saying that, should Turkey enter upon a war to-morrow, she would do so with less than 80,000 regular infantry. Of these 29 of the strongest battalions were in the Herzegovina during the past autumn, and that force has received a slight increase during the winter months. To the merits of these troops I have already borne testimony. Against those by whom they are officered I would now raise a protest, since they appeared to be so selected without regard to any one qualification which may entitle them to the rank. Even were the finances of the empire restored to a flourishing condition, and other reforms instituted, the army cannot be thoroughly effective until it is re-officered, and the new officers duly impressed with a conviction of the just distribution of rewards and punishments. It is deplorable that so low a sentiment should be the only one with which to inspire the officers, in order to secure the zealous fulfillment of their duties. But so it is: their birth and education, and the flagrant instances of bought rewards, which are constantly before their eyes, combine to render it the best sentiment of which they are capable. This applies principally to the regimental officers in the lower ranks, upon whom the efficiency of an army so much depends. Great good is anticipated from the extended scale introduced into the Military College, and it is said to be the intention of the government to appoint as soon as possible officers to commands who have passed through it, to the extinction of the old system of conferring the highest rank upon Pachas, whether fitted for the position or not.
Excepting the chief of the staff, and some of the aides-de-camp, the staff in the field was composed of engineer officers, most of whom had passed some years in France or Belgium, while one had remained five years in England. But these are men of a very different stamp from the general run of regimental officers, who appear to think it the greatest privilege of their position to get very drunk whenever the opportunity offers itself, thus presenting a curious contrast with the remarkable sobriety of their men. One evening I chanced to witness a scene as amusing as it was characteristic of the people among whom I lived. A post had arrived, and Osman Pacha's private Secretary was occupied in dispensing the letters. The officers were admitted to his tent, and the childish glee which they displayed was diverting in the extreme. Not only did they mark their gratitude by kissing every portion of the Secretary's garments on which they could lay hand, but danced about, showing the epistles to all who approached. Fortunately, perhaps, few of these could read, so the breach of confidence was not very great. I have often noticed that an Oriental, when he does shake off the apathetic reserve habitual to him, becomes more excited and enthusiastic than warmer-blooded nations. At any rate they seem to possess a full measure of that natural instinct of joy at receiving tidings of loved ones in far distant lands. One of these letters was from the wife of an officer, who had not heard from her for many months, and whose last reports had informed him of the destruction of his house by fire. The apparent indifference with which he had received the first announcement completely gave way to a flood of happiness on hearing of the safety of those he loved. Verily they are not so devoid of feeling as is generally supposed—these fatalist Turks.
The arrival of Dervisch Pacha with six battalions from Bieliki, which was now occupied by two battalions of redif, converted Gasko into the sole base of operations. The rain, which had for the past few days fallen in torrents, would have enabled Omer Pacha to have commenced hostilities on a greater scale, but for the dearth of provisions, which should have reached the frontier long since. It now became apparent that little could be done during the remaining months of the year, for nature had effected for the rebels whatever the indolence of the Turkish commanders had left undone. The magnificent harvest of the preceding year, which the rebels had appropriated, and the extraordinary drought which had prevailed during the spring and summer of 1861, combined to diminish the Turkish prospects of success. Moreover, the object of the Generalissimo was not so much to hunt down the rebels as to inspire them with confidence in the leniency of the Sultan's rule, while he, at the same time, occupied the country in such force as to convince them of the necessity of eventual submission. Already were the good effects of this measure manifested in the rapid return of the inhabitants to the surrounding villages. Metokhia, Aphtoria, and Lubniak, all in the close vicinity of the Turkish camp, had been deserted by their occupants, who, like the majority in the plain of Gasko, are of the Mussulman religion. These now returned to their desolated homes.