At nightfall we were pounding into a heavy sea that swept across us at every dip. Not that it made any difference to us but it did play the mischief with our refugees quartered out on the deck. The first sea to come aboard was greeted with yelps and squeals from the poor wretches we had undertaken to rescue. In a few minutes it became obvious that the deck would not serve at all and we began to look about us for shelter somewhere on board. Then I began to curse myself for a fool for loading myself and the France down with these thirty irresponsible nondescripts whose only effort to help themselves was to cling to the rails and scream piteously every time we took a sea. Besides this most of them were desperately seasick. Finally, however, we disposed of them in a way. When we had them packed away for the night there was not a spot on the boat that was not occupied, barring my own quarters, as I positively refused to introduce fifty-seven varieties of vermin (which did not have to be imagined) into my little cabin. Anyway I was afraid some of these disreputable creatures might steal what gold I had left from my coal deal in Batuum. In the engine room, stoke-hold, chain locker and on the grating above the boilers were packed refugees, like sardines in a box. As they began to steam and dry out with the heat I wished more than ever that I had let them remain to be eaten alive if need be by the gentle citizens of the Caucasus. About midnight it became very rough and a great fear seemed to seize one and all of my dear passengers. Every little while they would break out of their retreats and rush out on the deck under the impression that we were sinking. Then the first wave that swept us would soak them to the skin and with piercing howls they would scuttle back to the place where they belonged. All night long this kept up until for the first time I felt that shipwreck might not be such an unmixed evil after all. Any change would be preferable to this. By one a. m. I had decided that my refugees should start life anew at Trebizond, and that not one foot further should they go with me. They might get another boat from there if they so desired, but not the France! At daylight they began to beg for food and sat around the head of my companion-way like so many apes watching me eat my breakfast. Above my head were a dozen faces peering eagerly through the skylight. Finally I sent them all to the galley and ordered Stomati to give them breakfast.
At nine we anchored in Trebizond and I sighed with relief, for it seemed to me that my troubles with the refugee problem were over, if nothing else pleasant ever happened again.
After their rough night at sea mingled with fear and seasickness my passengers were as eager to disembark as we all were to get rid of them, and even before we anchored they were crowded at the gangway waiting to land. But alas! We had reckoned without our host! The rat-eyed governor saw a chance to display his authority. When I went ashore to arrange for relieving myself of the refugees he promptly replied that it could not be done. After an involved argument which accomplished nothing I appealed to the acting consul who lived on the bluff and accompanied by him and the missionary who lived in town, we made another assault on the potentate who was giving himself such airs. Finally he agreed to go out to the France and look over my importations. All of these negotiations had taken time and the refugees had become restless and anxious as to their fate and when they saw the governor’s boat with armed soldiers coming out toward them a panic seized them, or at least some of them, which I thought curious at the time, but saw a possible reason for before the day was over.
With as much dignity as though he had been the Sultan himself our dirty visitor climbed over the side and demanded that the men from the Caucasus be placed in line before him and show their passports. He evidently thought that he had me there, and that none would be forthcoming, for his face fell visibly when each and every one of the trembling wretches produced the frayed and filthy rags of paper from mysterious pockets in their garments. Some underling that belonged to the governor inspected the first passport and a long debate in Turkish ensued between the officials. The governor’s countenance brightened perceptibly and with great dignity he spoke to the consul and then turned around and glared at me, no doubt feeling my lack of reverence for his august person.
“What does he say?” I asked the consul impatiently, for I was anxious to be off.
“He says,” replied the consul, with just the shade of a deprecating smile, “that inasmuch as these passports have not been properly viséd in Batuum, it will be quite impossible for him to allow them to land here. You should have had the Turkish representative there inspect and countersign all these papers.”
I was certainly indignant.
“Do you mean to say,” I retorted with some heat, “that he insists on a visé from a port that is in a state of siege with people being killed in the streets? These men don’t live in Batuum anyway and most of them have come from towns in the interior and barely escaped with their lives. Besides some of them actually live here in Trebizond!” My reply was translated but my expression did not need an interpreter. The governor distinctly had the upper hand and sneeringly replied that the situation in Batuum was not due to him and that he did not care a rap whether the town was in a state of siege or not. “No visé no landing” was his ultimatum. I asked him what he expected me to do with them, to which he shrugged his shoulders scornfully and prepared to leave. I was too angry to engage in further discussion and as I watched him go over the side an inspiration broke upon me. So I merely remarked politely that I would think the matter over and would advise him later as to my decision. This obviously did not please him as he apparently did not see where I had any particular decision coming my way. So he only growled a surly reply as he rowed away.
As soon as he was gone I called a council of war in my saloon and proposed my plan. I figured on sailing from Trebizond to the mouth of the Danube and thence back to Russia, and it was obvious that there would be no welcome to my passengers in either of these places. My idea was that we would say no more about it but make all of our preparations to depart and just before we weighed anchor put all our refugees in our two ship’s boats with their equipment of oars and just simply leave them in the harbor. If the governor wanted to keep them adrift there with no food—well, then that would be his affair and not mine. He could drown them if he thought best, once they were off my hands. No one but Morris sympathized with my project, but I was running the enterprise, and issued the ultimatum and went ashore to send a cable before leaving.
But once again my plans were changed for there was an urgent cable awaiting me from Chicago: “Return Constantinople give up France proceed quickest possible St. Petersburg investigate Witte’s charges against our correspondent there whom he asserts has misquoted him.” So here was my whole program upset once more and for the first time my scheme for marooning my passengers began to seem injudicious. I could make no excuse for disobeying the governor at Trebizond if my next call was to be at a Turkish port. I thought a minute and my pet project evaporated. I would take them to the Golden Horn. But to forestall difficulties there I cabled Mr. Peter Jay, then chargé at our Embassy in Constantinople, that I was coming with refugees and to arrange to have the authorities take delivery of same on my arrival. Then I went back to the landing. The missionary, who was a lovely man and sympathized strongly with me, had been pleading with the governor for the refugees. While that mighty man stood bashfully by playing coyly with his sword tassels, the missionary delicately intimated to me that his Excellency on account of his good impression of me and of his desire to oblige, would waive the formalities of the pass-port visés and allow the unfortunates to land if I could see my way clear to defray his trouble in the matter for the sum of five pounds sterling per refugee. The old swine! I was indignant! I told the missionary that he could tell his fat friend that I would see him sizzling first and that I was going straight back to Constantinople, where I knew a general who was close to the Sultan and I would stay there a month if necessary but I certainly intended to get him “fired” for a rotten old grafter. I could not speak his language and the missionary declined to translate—so I left. I am afraid the Turk never really knew all I thought of him, but he did know that his generous offer was turned down, for his face flushed crimson and he spun on his heel and went to his office. I decided not to wait for him to make another move and so I jumped into the boat and pulled for the France. As soon as I was within calling distance I shouted to the skipper to get up the anchor, and as I stepped over the side, her engines were already turning over and her nose coming around toward the sea. I had sent Morris directly from the cable office to buy food of the refugee type and we brought off a boatload of cabbages and green things which should keep them until we could put them ashore at Constantinople.