At ten o'clock A.M., Tuesday, September 4th, we were fairly under way, with a ship in tow. The City of London, in which I had a berth, carried the head-quarters of the 2nd Division, Sir De Lacy Evans, Lieutenant-General Commanding, Colonel Percy Herbert, Deputy Assistant Quarter Master General, Colonel Wilbraham, Deputy Assistant General, Captain Lane Fox, Captain Allix, aide-de-camp, Captain Gubbins, aide-de-camp, Captain Bryan, aide-de-camp, and Major Eman, 41st Regiment. The coast from Varna to Baltschik very much resembles that of Devonshire. It was as green, more richly wooded, and crowned by verdant expanses of dwarf forest trees, which undulate from the very verge of the sea to the horizon. For some four or five miles outside Varna, the French, camps dotted these pleasant-looking hills—the abode of fever and cholera. Then came the reign of solitude—not a homestead, not a path, not a sign of life visible as for the next eight or ten miles one coasted along the silent forest! Just about Baltschik the wood disappears, and the land becomes like our coast between the Forelands, with high white cliffs and bare green hills above them. The town itself, or rather the overgrown village, seemed through the glass to be as dirty and straggling as any Bulgaro-Turkish town it had been our lot to witness, and offered no temptation to go ashore. On steaming out of the bay northwards the number of steamers and sailing transports in sight was wonderful, but when, after a run of two hours, we anchored in Baltschik roads, one was almost disappointed at the spectacle, for the line of coast is so long, and the height of the cliffs inland so considerable, that the numerous vessels anchored in lines along the shore were dwarfed, as it were, by the magnitude of the landscape. It was only as the eye learnt to pick out three-deckers and large vessels—to recognize the Britannia here, the Trafalgar there, the Himalaya further on—that the grandeur of these leviathans grew upon one, just as a simple attempt to count the vessels along the coast gave an idea of their numbers. In addition to the transports, there were several coal vessels for the supply of the steamers; some laden with Turkish coal from Heraclea, and others with coal from England.
Towards evening Lord Raglan came from Varna on board H.M.S. Caradoc, Lieutenant Reynolds, which he had selected as his headquarters afloat. The Duke of Cambridge, and a portion of his staff, took up their quarters on board Her Majesty's ship Triton, Commander Lloyd. Many of the ships had to get water from the beach, to complete coaling, &c., and the masters were twice summoned on board the Emperor, to receive instructions from Captain Christie, R.N., respecting the sailing of the expedition, and the landing of the troops, &c., conveyed to him by the Rear-Admiral.
The French were nowhere visible, and we learnt, on inquiry, that their fleet, with the few transports under their charge, had left on the previous Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and were to rendezvous at Fidonisi, or Serpents' Island, off the mouth of the Danube, near which they were to be joined by the fleets from Bourgas and Varna. Their men were nearly all on board line-of-battle ships. A squadron of steamers, with a multitude of brigs and transports in tow, was visible towards evening, steering north-east, and the tricolor could be seen ere evening flying from the peaks of the steamers; they passed by Baltschik with a stiff breeze off the land on their quarter. Towards evening the wind freshened and hauled round more to the northward; but the fleet rode easily at anchor all night.
Wednesday, the 6th of September, was passed in absolute inactivity, so far as the bulk of the officers and men of the expedition were concerned. There was a fresh wind to the eastward, which would have carried the transports out rapidly to sea. We thought at the time that some arrangement with the French, or some deficiency to be made good, not known to us, was the cause of the delay.[7] The ships of the various divisions were got into order as far as possible, and the officers and men were in great measure consoled for the detention by the exchange of good fare on board ship for ration beef and bread and camp living. The soldier may have the sunny side of the wall in peace, but assuredly he has the bleaker side in times of war. Wherever the sailor goes he has his roof over his head, his good bed, his warm meal. He moves with his house about him. If he gets wet on deck he has a snug hammock to get into below, or a change of dry clothing, and his butcher and his baker travel beside him. From a wet watch outside, the soldier is lucky if he gets into a wet tent; a saturated blanket is his covering, and the earth is his pillow. He must carry his cold victuals for three days to come, and eat them as best he may, exposed to the inclemency of the weather, with no change of clothing and no prospect of warmth or shelter.
These and such other topics could not fail to be discussed on board ship, and the discussion necessarily promoted a better understanding between the services, for Jack saw that these rigid gentlemen in red coats and straps and buckles, whom he is rather apt to look upon as Sybaritical and effeminate creatures, had to go through as much hard work and exposure as himself; and the soldier was not a little surprised, perhaps, to find that those whose business is upon the waters lived in comfort which he would gladly find in the best-appointed barrack. Sailors and soldiers worked together in the greatest harmony, although it was trying to the best of tempers to be turned out of bed for a stranger, and although people with only six feet square a-piece to live, move, and have their being in, when stowed away in thousands, might be expected to view their neighbours with a little reasonable dislike.
SIGNAL FOR SAILING.
At half-past four o'clock on Thursday morning, the 7th of September, three guns from the Agamemnon fired in quick succession woke up the sleepers of the fleet. The signal-men made out through the haze of morning twilight the joyful order fluttering in the coloured bunting from the mizen of the Admiral, "Prepare to weigh anchor," and in a quarter of an hour the volumes of smoke rising from the steamers, mingled with white streaks of steam, showed that not much time would be lost in obeying it. Ere seven o'clock arrived the steamers had weighed anchor, and each was busy "dodging about" the mass of transports to pick up its own particular charges. This was a work of time, of trouble, and of difficulty. Towing is at all times an unpleasant operation, but it is especially difficult to arrange the details and to get the towed vessels under weigh when there is such a mass of shipping to thread as there was at present. When the vessels were found, and the hawsers passed and secured, then came the next great difficulty—to get them into their assigned places in the several lines of the different divisions. There was some time lost before the lines were formed, and the signal "to sail" was given. With a gentle breeze off shore the flotilla started in nearly the order assigned to it. The lines were about half a mile apart, and each line was four or five miles long, for the towing power of the several steamers was so unequal, that the weaker ones tailed off and the stronger got ahead, in spite of repeated orders to keep station.
It was a vast armada. No pen could describe its effect. Ere an hour had elapsed it had extended itself over half the circumference of the horizon. Possibly no expedition so complete and so terrible in its means of destruction, with such enormous power in engines of war and such capabilities of locomotion, was ever yet sent forth. The speed was restricted to four miles and a half per hour, but with a favouring wind it was difficult to restrain the vessels to that rate, and the transports set no sail. The course lay N.E. by E., and the fleet was ordered to make for a point 40 miles due west of Cape Tarkan. On looking to the map it will be seen that the point thus indicated is about 50 miles east of Fidonisi, or Serpents' Island, off the mouth of the Danube, and that it lies about 100 miles to the north-east of Sebastopol, Cape Tarkan being a promontory of the Crimea, 63 miles north of the fortress. It was understood that this point was the rendezvous given to our French and Turkish allies. The fleet, in five irregular and straggling lines, flanked by men-of-war and war steamers, advanced slowly, filling the atmosphere with innumerable columns of smoke, which gradually flattened out into streaks and joined the clouds, adding to the sombre appearance of this well-named "Black" Sea. The land was lost to view very speedily beneath the coal clouds and the steam clouds of the fleet, and as we advanced, not an object was visible in the half of the great circle which lay before us, save the dark waves and the cold sky.
Not a bird flew, not a fish leaped, not a sail dotted the horizon. Behind us was all life and power—vitality, force, and motion—a strange scene in this so-called Russian lake! From time to time signals were made to keep the stragglers in order, and to whip up the laggards, but the execution of the plan by no means equalled the accuracy with which it had been set forth upon paper, and the deviations from the mathematical regularity of the programme were very natural. The effect was not marred by these trifling departures from strict rectilinearity, for the fleet seemed all the greater and the more imposing as the eye rested on these huge black hulls weighing down upon the face of the waters, and the infinite diversity of rigging which covered the background with a giant network.
Towards three o'clock we came up with eight French and Turkish steamers, towing about 50 small brigs and schooners under the French flag, which appeared to be laden with commissariat stores, for there were very few men on board. They steered rather more to the east than we did, and we soon passed them. Soon afterwards several large French men-of-war steamers, with transports in tow, appeared in the distance on our starboard quarter (right-hand side), steering the same course with ourselves, and they seemed to get very close to the stragglers of our fleet. One could not but contrast the comfort of our soldiers in their splendid transports with the discomfort to which our brave allies must have been exposed in their small shallops of 150 and 200 tons burden.