The south side fell that day. We watched the huge explosions of the forts on that side. It was indeed a grand sight,—the enormous columns of smoke, dust, and débris flying majestically into the air in great shoots, and dense clouds of it hanging thickly at the base. On the second day this continued. We could also plainly see streams of soldiers crossing the bridge of boats over the harbour to the north side, where Fort Constantine still stood out unscathed. I think many of the Russian ships-of-war were sunk in the harbour at that juncture.
Early in October we were ordered to embark the 63rd Regiment of the Line; and, together with a goodly company of other ships with troops on board, we left for Odessa, where, it seems, we made a reconnaissance only, our real object being Kimburn, a fortified spit near the entrance of the Sea of Azov. Arriving off Kimburn, we transferred our freight of soldiers to the Vulcan, transport ship, and prepared to attack the fortifications. I find myself writing home by next mail as follows:—
We arrived at this place, Kimburn, about 3 P.M., and anchored about two and a half miles off the forts in very shallow water. Nothing happened that afternoon, and we commenced preparing for action for the following day, being sure we should attack, but it was postponed. They say it was all Admiral Bruat’s fault (French Admiral), for Lyons cannot do anything without his permission, as he is much the senior. We then thought our turn would come the next day. But it did not, and we found it was all old Bruat’s fault, for he will have nothing to do with it. Admiral Lyons was very much put out about this, for depend upon it, that if he had been alone I really believe he would have gone in the day we arrived; but he was determined to do something, so he ordered all the mortar-boats to commence shelling the place, which consisted of nine forts and houses. The following day our Admiral made the signal to old Bruat:—“This is a fine day to attack.” Answer was “Agreeable.” So at 12 o’clock we got under weigh and steamed in, firing our long pivot gun, a solid 68-pounder, occasionally, but not without receiving some shots in return, and some not pleasant at all. Whish! whish! on they came by the dozen. When about 600 yards from the centre battery we anchored and put a spring in our cable, so as to keep our broadside well on to the forts. All this was only the work of a few minutes, when we let drive from our whole 46 guns as hard as we could, firing occasionally with moorsom shell as well as round shot—such a row, and such dense smoke as was never seen or heard. I was constantly sent down with messages to direct the firing, but it was nigh impossible to make myself heard to the officers of the quarters, and the smoke between decks was so dense I could see absolutely nothing, and felt suffocated into the bargain. I must say I was awfully anxious to go in, but on the other hand equally glad to come out. We blazed at them for one hour and a half before they surrendered; we sent in a flag of truce and asked them if they had had enough of it and wished to surrender, which they readily acquiesced in. I then saw them sending down their troops to the beach, with their arms and knapsacks, and piling them on the beach. We gave the forts an awful pounding and completely smothered them. I must tell you that two French floating batteries bombarded the place all the morning before we went in, so they deserve more than half the credit of taking the place. There were several forts. I fear they suffered considerable loss. I believe we were the only ship that got knocked about a bit: we were struck in several places. Our mizen topsail yard was shot away and our side hit, but we only had one man wounded; and a good deal of rigging was cut to pieces. I am quite a warrior now, three times under fire out here. Yesterday I went ashore to see the place, which was almost knocked down and full of our shot and broken shell. I picked up a few curios, such as a bayonet and a looking-glass, also a Cossack’s stirrup iron, and a piece of the Russian Union Jack, which I will enclose. I hear we killed and wounded a great many; I saw a lot of dead bodies. All our launches went ashore the first evening after the bombardment, and brought off lots of wounded Russians to be cared for on board; good practice for our doctors.
We have taken 1500 prisoners. I think I have told you all for this mail, except that in the midst of the fight, I was standing on the poop as usual, when I saw our Turkish pilot suddenly fall head over heels backwards in a large tub of water we had on deck in case of fire. I thought he was killed, instead of which I feel sure he fell back from dire funk, because a shot whisked past his head. I could not help laughing, as indeed we all did.
Such were my descriptions. I evidently condensed my subjects. But I well recollect feeling pity for the poor Russians, who were so unmercifully hammered by the broadsides of so many line-of-battle ships, our 32-pounders working complete destruction and levelling the forts. At times I could see our shot flying into the fort only 600 yards off. As quick-firing meant approximately three rounds a minute from each gun of a liner’s battery, the number of rounds fired can be imagined; though we could not keep it up long at that rate. Captain Jones always wore a tall black beaver hat (which was considered uniform in those days) with what we called a lightning conductor—nothing more nor anything less than a piece of broad gold lace from the crown to the brim. It was an economical costume: off came the lightning conductor when the Captain landed, and he was out of uniform. After the firing ceased his hat caused some merriment: it was white from the smoke of the gunpowder adhering to the nap.
We left Kimburn next day, still thinking that Odessa was to be bombarded; but, instead of going thither, we returned to our old diggings off Sebastopol. The sailing squadron was now ordered home, and the Naval Brigade re-embarked; and there was nothing left for the Fleet to do, as the south side of Sebastopol had fallen and the Russians were in a state of collapse. So, to our infinite joy, we were ordered to take a cruise into the Mediterranean: to while away the time, and await events.
CHAPTER VII
LEISURE HOURS
We stayed a few days at Constantinople en passant. I enjoyed as many hours as possible ashore at the Embassy with the kind Lord Stratford de Redcliffe and his charming family. Then we cruised, spending a few days at the lovely Princes Islands, in the Sea of Marmora; then on to Smyrna. Smyrna was a charming place to lie at. The merchants and the Levantines were hospitable. After their work hours, I used to drive out to their country bungalows, and dine and stay the night; and, by my wig, what pretty girls were to be seen! Lovely little one- or two-story houses, each (generally) with a marble courtyard in the middle of the building, and delicious fountains playing in the centre of this yard, which was a mass of flowers and pretty shrubs—such was Smyrna. The gardens beyond were delightful. Usually there were dances in the evenings (which were deliciously cool), or rubbers of whist. The bazaars also were an attraction, and very good; and the town to my mind seemed more Turkish than Constantinople itself. Sometimes we gave a dance on board, or took our friends for a picnic. In fact, the sojourn was enjoyable. Dwelling there was a certain Miss Blount, our Consul’s daughter. She was considered a great beauty, and was always called “The Fair Maid of Athens,” being so like the lady of Byron’s song. I rather think that her father was Consul at Messalonghi, where, it is said, Byron wrote his lines on “The Fair Maid.”
After leaving Smyrna, we sailed for the Piræus. We stayed some little time, refitting; and we mids got up regattas, hiring the sailing boats of the Piræus, and racing round Salamis bay and islands. Here it was that I derived my first taste for boat-sailing, which in my late years led to so much yacht-racing in England. The snug harbour of the Piræus always had a charm for me. I have often visited Athens since those days, both in men-of-war and in a private capacity; and I know of no better station to be on while in command of a ship. Your limits generally extended from Corfu to Chalchis. Corfu and its islands are perfectly charming, and afford excellent wild shooting. I have made very considerable bags in those parts; and was, luckily, once under the command of a genuine sportsman, Admiral Hobart Pasha. We used to shoot great quantities of game in the Morea, all round in the bays of those lovely stretches of country. Fifty or sixty couple of woodcock fell to our guns on several occasions, when you just happened to hit off a flight of these birds. Snipe also abounded, and wild duck and pigs were to be got. Indeed, in all the bays there was always plenty of game, and in the higher lands the red-legged partridge. Hobart was a genuine sportsman, and a wonderfully good shot. Every day of the week he used to get some shooting, devoting Sundays to consular work, or to whatever business the ship was sent to do: shooting was more to his taste. We had still better sport up a river called the Jahun, in Iscanderoun Bay. We were returning to our ship on one occasion, having been tenting-out up this fine river for ten days. Our two boats were well laden with game, besides wild boar. Unfortunately, the boat containing Hobart and myself filled and swamped as we were crossing the bar. We managed to touch hard sand when we stepped out; but it was touch-and-go, as the current out of the river was at a great pace, and the breakers and surf were running very high. Thank God, we all escaped; but we lost our boat, game, guns, dogs, and all. The poor brutes swam in our eddy as long as they could; but soon they became exhausted, and drifted away to sea, to be drowned.