One of these boats, if not more (I have never been able to ascertain precisely what happened to the five torpedo boats that left Odessa), made a dash at the Turkish squadron; the weather not permitting him to use his Whitehead, he decided to try what his pole torpedo would do. As he approached the head-most vessel, he found (as he explained afterwards to me) that something stopped his way, and he saw at the same time several black objects approaching him. Nothing daunted, he struggled to get close to the bows of the ironclad; when he got as near as he could manage he fired his torpedo, without, however, doing any harm to his enemy. Scarcely had he done this when he found himself in the water and his boat gone from under him: the real facts being that the black objects he had seen were the guard-boats, which were closing on him, the ropes that connected them together having fouled his screw, and caused the disaster; his boat was capsized and went to the bottom. Four or five of her crew were drowned, as he would have been, had he not been fished out of the water by the Turkish guard-boats, and made prisoner.

The name of this daring naval officer was Putskin. His cool courage was very amusing. When interrogated, while still in a half-drowned condition, he exclaimed in excellent English, 'Why the devil didn't I blow that ship up?' He was asked if he had any idea what stopped him, and it was suggested to him that something must have fouled his screw. He answered, 'I don't know what stopped me, but why the devil didn't I blow the ship up?' I told him that I had a sort of notion he might be hanged for using such a fearful weapon. He said, 'No brave man would hang me; but why,' &c.

He seemed to have only one idea, and that was he was a fool for having failed. He was too good a man to let go, so we kept him till nearly the end of the war.

Wherever he may be now he is a fine fellow, whose bravery I for one shan't forget in a hurry.

A short time after the above-named occurrence the Russians attempted an attack upon Sulina by land and water, with what object I have never been able to understand; as, if they had succeeded, they could not have held it so long as our ships were anchored in the offing. Perhaps their intention was, by driving us out of the river, to utilise its position for torpedo attacks.

I have explained that Sulina was surrounded by sea and vast marshes. Along the seashore there was a narrow causeway of sand, on which ten men could march abreast. The only other approaches were by sea and by the river, the latter, at about ten miles distance, being in the hands of the Russians. As a defence we had placed on the beach, at about a gun-shot's distance, several torpedoes, buried in the sand, and connected by electric wires with the batteries of Sulina. A simultaneous movement was made by three or four Russian gun-boats descending the river, and two regiments of troops accompanied by artillery were sent along the causeway. Suspecting something in regard to torpedoes, they drove before them as a sort of advance guard about two hundred and fifty horses without riders, it being the duty of the poor animals to take the shock of the explosion should torpedoes be placed on the beach. And so they did, for, on the horses passing the spot where the torpedoes were placed, an explosion took place through which several horses were killed. The rest turned right back, and the causeway being very narrow, dashed amongst the advancing troops, causing the greatest confusion, so much so that the whole party had to retreat and we saw them no more.

It is true that one of the small ironclads had about got the range of the advancing enemy along the sea-beach, so making their position rather precarious, but I believe that the real cause of the failure was the action of the horses.

In the meantime, the light draft Russian gun-boats came down the river, and began to fire shell and shot at a long range at the small town and fortifications of Sulina. This was answered by the temporary batteries alone, the ships being out of range. Desultory fighting went on for about twenty-four hours, when the Russians, finding the hopelessness of the enterprise, especially now that the troops had retired, gave it up as a bad job and steamed up the Danube again. This was the only serious attack made upon Sulina, which Russia could never have taken and held till she had destroyed the Turkish fleet. After this I went to Batoum, which place Dervish Pasha was gallantly holding against Russia. He was sadly in want of naval help, as the Russians had advanced by the sea-shore to within six miles of that much-coveted port. On arriving there I took the command of eight Turkish ships of war, besides transports that were constantly coming and going between Constantinople and Batoum with provisions, ammunition, &c., for the army and navy. Here, again, if the Russians could have disposed of the Turkish fleet they would have easily taken Batoum. By commanding the sea, even with a couple of vessels, they would have prevented supplies being sent. It must be remembered there was no way of supporting the soldiers and sailors except by sea. My first object was to drive the Russians, by the fire of the ships, more inland. This was easy enough, as of course the enemy had no guns with them to compare in range with those on board the ironclads. Some time after my arrival, however, they brought down two fifteen centimetre Krupp guns from Ardahan, guns that had a considerably longer range than our twelve-ton Armstrongs. They gave us some trouble; however, the position of the attacking camp was changed so as to be out of range of our guns, a move in every way satisfactory to the Turkish military commander. This action of our fleet gave great annoyance to the enemy, and it was determined if possible to make our lying at Batoum a dangerous if not impossible matter. This was to be done by the so-called almighty torpedo. I received notice from our secret agent at Sebastopol that a serious expedition was being organised, that the Turkish ships at Batoum were to be destroyed or frightened away at any cost. Frightened away, indeed! To the uninitiated a torpedo is a thing to frighten any one away. We had heard of magnificent results of torpedo trials in peace, how ships (I fancy only hulks) had been blown up, columns of water half a mile high being sent into the air, &c. Nothing, it was said, could save you. Whatever my ideas, however nervous I may have felt, I knew that those I was commanding had no fear—they don't know what it means, the more especially of a not understood possible casualty, and though more enlightened as to torpedoes and their accepted effects, I wasn't to show my people a bad example. When lying in bed in the middle of the night, having read the warning letter before retiring, I thought:—'Suppose one of these nasty things goes off and blows the flagship up at this moment. How pleasant! What cowardly things these are; no fair fight, up you go, unshriven. I have heard that a man who is hanged is likely to go to heaven; I wonder if the same chance would be given to him blown up by a torpedo?' These sort of feelings came over me. However, said I, 'Let us see if we can prevent their being realised;' so I went to work to try to do so. As a sportsman I calculated that to fire at a dark object in the night, especially when that object had a background of high hills such as we had at Batoum, was most difficult, so the first order I gave was no lights, not even a cigarette light; utter darkness under severe penalties. Next, considering that Batoum is a very small port, with an entrance difficult to find even in broad daylight, almost impossible in the night without the lighthouse as a guide, I ordered that the lighthouse should not be lighted. Then I arranged with the shore authorities that no lights should be seen in the town; this was more difficult, as there were many Russian friendlies in Batoum.

However, the application of somewhat severe discipline made Batoum like a city of the dead after dark.

In addition to these precautions I put a barrier of booms ahead of the ships lying in the port, placed guard-boats to watch it at the entrance of the harbour, and having done all this, I bided my time. For some nights, rather sleepless to me, though to my disgust I heard my officers snoring all round me, nothing happened (though, as I heard afterwards, a good deal had been going on outside the harbour), when, at about three o'clock in the morning of the third or fourth night after I had received the warning, I heard a row going on in the direction of the guard-boats and an explosion near to one of the outlying ships. I had hardly time to think, when something struck the chain of my flagship and seemed to spin past, like a fish in the water. Then dead silence. I immediately sent orders to the two fast cruisers, which were lying with steam up, to go to sea and reconnoitre.

Suddenly I heard people on shore calling out (I forgot to mention that ships in Batoum harbour are always lashed to the shore). I sent my officer to reconnoitre, who found a gaping crowd standing round what they thought was a large fish lashing his tail, but what in reality was an unexploded torpedo with the screw still in motion. On things being calm I went myself to see what had happened generally during the attack, and found that a torpedo had struck the bows of one of the ironclads on the belt, at the waterline at an angle, had exploded, and scarcely left a mark; that a second torpedo had, after passing through the planks on the defensive barrier I had placed, diverged from its course, and gone quietly on shore as far as the left of the squadron; that a third, as I said, had struck the chain of the flagship and not gone off, but had run on to the beach. The parts of another torpedo were afterwards picked up, it evidently having exploded somewhere down below. So we could account for four torpedoes having been fired at us without effect; probably there were more. Those that were on the beach were in a very perfect state, and as soon as we had rendered them harmless, we made prisoners of war of them. Now I have been since informed of what went on outside Batoum. It seems that for three nights two fast Russian steamers, carrying torpedo boats, had been looking for Batoum, and as one of my informants said, 'We could not find it for love or money.' A couple of hours before daylight they had steamed off, so as to be out of sight before break of day. At last they had bribed a man to light a fire in the hills behind the town, and so on the fourth night they got somewhere near it, but they could not make out the ships on account of the dark land behind them. The time for steaming off having nearly come, they determined to have a shot at us, so fired five torpedoes into what they thought the centre of the Turkish fleet, with what result we have seen. The person who told me was one of them, and said it was sickening work looking for Batoum. It is true the nights were fearfully dark, so that the shape of the land could not be made out. He said that without the traitor's light they could not have found us. I am not saying by this that one should always trust to darkness; there are many other ways now of taking the sting out of torpedo attacks. It is needless to say that the steamers I sent out returned, having seen nothing. While the fleet was at Batoum, two or three more torpedo attacks were made on a smaller scale without effect; but I have bored my readers enough about torpedoes—all I know is that I can sleep now when in their vicinity. While in the Black Sea I several times went with two or three ships that could be spared from other duties and reconnoitred Sebastopol and Odessa, but being fully convinced of the helplessness of few or even of many ships against the heavy batteries of the present day, I did no more than look about me, occasionally exchanging shots with the enemy. As to burning defenceless towns and villages, I have always been thoroughly adverse to such things, so I never undertook it. Some people think war should be made as horrible as possible; in this I do not agree. I could easily have burnt the Emperor's palace at Yalta, but did not think it expedient to do so.

I have already spoken in general terms of the great services rendered by the ironclads in moving the troops about, but I feel that, in justice to the gallant crews of the squadron I had the honour to command during the war, I ought not to bring this portion of my narrative to a close without mentioning more particularly a piece of work of that nature executed under my immediate direction.

The capture of Soukhoum-Kaleh had been followed up by the despatch of an expedition of some 4,000 men of all arms to a place some thirty miles down the coast, called Tchamchira. The military commander at Soukhoum had some idea, I believe, that this force would be able to make its way inland, and thus encourage risings amongst the tribes against the detested Muscovite rule. The country, however, was too unfavourable for the advance of invading troops, being swampy ground with thick bush where it was not an impenetrable forest. The Russians also got wind of the intended movement, and to make a long story short, had managed to collect a large opposing force. The expedition was landed, but that is all. Before much could be done to secure the position as a base—whilst the men in fact were making entrenchments—the Russians, who under cover of the forest that extended right down to the beach on either side had been stealthily making their preparations, attacked them on all sides, and but for the covering fire of the ironclads, fortunately still at anchor there, would undoubtedly have driven them into the sea.

The result of this action enabled the force to establish itself in the village, and hold possession of the small belt of cleared ground around it, the extreme limit of which was still within the range of the guns of the ironclads.

The position of this force, however, daily grew worse. The Russians had captured the fords, by which their retreat to Soukhoum was cut off. They were completely surrounded, and only owed their preservation to the continual presence of an ironclad. Under these circumstances it was thought advisable to withdraw the men, and Dervish Pasha entrusted me with the task. To give an idea of the precarious position of this force, I may mention that, as I approached the place in my flagship, we heard the sound of smart cannonading, and I found the guard-ship engaged with a battery of field-pieces. The Russians had recently received a large accession of force, and several field-guns of large calibre; and so, not content with troubling the camp daily with an enfilading fire, had thought to try conclusions with the heavy guns afloat. On our appearance the action ceased, the Russians withdrawing their battery into the safe shelter of the forest. The Russian fire had been well directed, and had the guns been heavier calibre, considerable damage would have been inflicted. As it was, the upper works and rigging were cut about a great deal, and two men killed and four wounded on board the ironclad. After a conference with the general in command, I proceeded to Soukhoum to make arrangements for transport. I had hardly arrived there when a message from Tchamchira arrived, urgently demanding assistance, as the Russians were advancing in great force. I hurried back with all the vessels I could collect to Tchamchira, three ironclad corvettes and two wooden paddle-wheel transports. Fortunately the Russian attack had not commenced, and the arrival of my squadron probably led to its postponement until too late. To remove 4,000 men, bag and baggage, with several batteries of field-pieces and a large amount of ammunition, was no easy task with the small amount of transport at my command. I made, however, what I considered to be the best disposition possible under the circumstances.

The corvettes and the paddle transports were moored in as close to the shore as possible, my intention being to cram them with men and stores first, leaving my flagship free to the last to manoeuvre off the Russian camp and shell it, should the slightest opposition be offered to the embarkation. The work commenced at daylight, and was actively carried on throughout the day and following night, the last batch of men coming off at dawn. The men were taken away from under the very teeth, as it were, of the Russians. The ships in shore were well within rifle range, and the boats passing to and fro were exposed the whole time to a fire from hidden foes. The enemy had been evidently overawed by my preparations, and doubtless thought it would be better for them to allow the invading force to retire unopposed. To avoid the chance of grounding, in case I should have to use the frigate fire to cover the embarkation, a volunteer crew had proceeded off the Russian camp during the night, and laid down a line of buoys, to show the limit of distance to which the shore might be approached with safety. These buoys, glistening in the sunlight, doubtless suggested to the Russians that something dreadful was in store for them if they attempted to fire a gun, and so they contented themselves with watching from the trees, amongst the branches of which we saw a number of them perched like so many birds of prey. The whole credit of the embarkation is due to the efficient manner in which the naval officers under my command carried out the instructions given them, and the great docility of the Turkish soldiers. Soon after sunset the general and staff left the shore, and their example was followed by every military officer of any rank; so that the whole work devolved upon those I had placed in command of the beach and the boats.

The men marched down quietly by themselves and everything went on like clockwork. I must confess that I passed a most anxious night, as I knew not but what at any moment the enemy might make a rush into the entrenchments the Turks were abandoning, in order to claim a victory. My own ship was getting lumbered up, and I knew that before long it would be impossible to work more than one or two of the guns in case of need. That the Russians, however, could not know this, was my comfort; but I must own that it was a great relief to me when the last detachment left the shore. The poor fellows had been holding the outposts all night. They came in at the double, and little time was lost over their embarkation.

We steamed off at once to Soukhoum, and there disembarked the expedition. Shortly after this I was called upon to prepare for a veritable exodus. The evacuation of Soukhoum had been decided upon, but His Imperial Majesty felt that the poor people, who had been expecting a permanent deliverance from the Russian yoke, could not be abandoned to those whose vengeance they had excited. Intimation was therefore given that all those desirous of leaving the country should be carried to Turkish territory, and provided with lands to form new settlements. The whole population pretty well made up its mind to leave, and came marching into Soukhoum with their flocks and herds, and household goods and chattels. Suffice it to say that, with the vessels under my command, I shipped off and landed at Batoum, Trebizonde, Sinope, and other ports on the Turkish coast something like 50,000 people, counting men, women, and children, within the space of a fortnight.



CHAPTER XX.

SPORT IN TURKEY.

I will now endeavour to give my readers some idea of life at Constantinople. If the resident is a sportsman he can find plenty of amusement, game of all descriptions being plentiful. I may say that the shooting begins about September 1, when great flights of quails pass the environs of Constantinople, from the threatening winter of Russia to the warmer climate of Egypt, and afford capital amusement. But really to enjoy the sport it is necessary to go somewhat far, within ten miles of Constantinople. The fields during the quail season are filled with so-called sportsmen to such an extent that one has every chance of being mistaken for a quail, and potted accordingly. I have counted at St. Stephano, a place about nine miles from Stamboul, celebrated for treaties and quails, both in due season, more than five hundred sportsmen accompanied by howling curs of every description. Such a sight is worth looking at, but for sport, well—it is better to leave gun and dogs at home.

I once ventured out among the motley crowd of quail-shooters; there happened to be a flight of quails, so the fire kept up very much resembled a field-day on Southsea Common. I was hit all over with (thank goodness!) very small shot, and made a rapid retreat to save my skin from perforation.

However, going some distance along the coast, away from the enemy, one may at times get capital sport during the months of September and October; for example, a single gun may bag a hundred and fifty to two hundred quails in a day.

After the quail comes the partridge shooting, which is very good, especially in the islands of the Turkish archipelago, where there are great numbers of red-legged partridges affording famous sport.

To properly enjoy the shooting in Turkey a yacht is necessary, as the best of it is to be found in the islands and near to the sea-coast, in places quite inaccessible to roads.

For example, the islands of Mitros, Lemnos, and Mytelene abound in partridges, and the shooting there is really capital.

Either by bringing a yacht from England, or by hiring one at Constantinople, the real sportsman may have great amusement while shooting, with Constantinople as headquarters. He will find in Asia Minor deer of all descriptions, wild boars and wolves. Then he will have capital sport with geese, ducks, woodcocks and partridges, and snipe.

Occasionally he must rough it somewhat while sleeping in villages some little distance from the sea-coast for a night or two, instead of retiring on board his floating home, and on this head I would give a word of advice to the sportsman. Always take up your quarters in a Turkish village, if possible, in preference to a Greek village. At the former you will find the traditional hospitality of the Oriental, even among the very poor people, practised in every sense of the word; whilst in the latter you will be exploite (there is no English word that signifies as well what I mean) to the last degree, even to the pilfering of your cartridges.

I have seen on arriving at a Turkish village every one vie with the other, and doing their very utmost to make the sportsman and his party comfortable. I have seen 'harems,' such as they are, cleaned out and prepared as a sleeping apartment, all the inmates huddling together in some little corner. I have remarked one old woman arrive with a couple of eggs, another with what was perhaps her pet fowl, to be sacrificed at the altar of hospitality—in fact, only one idea seemed to animate them, namely, hospitality, and it is touching to see how they shrink from the proffered reward made by the sportsman on leaving these kind though poor and long-suffering people.

There are different kinds of deer to be found in Asia Minor, which strangely enough imitate the habits of the inhabitants, Greek, Turk, and Armenian, by not herding together.

First, there is the large red deer which generally inhabit the high mountains and are difficult to get, except when the winter snow drives them down into the lower grounds. I have been fortunate enough to kill several of these splendid animals during my sojourn in Turkey. I will give my readers an account of how I shot two of them. One day during the winter, when the mountains were covered with snow, I received news that three deer of the largest description were in a ravine at the foot of a mountain some six hours' distance from Ismidt. I immediately started off in pursuit. I must mention that all persons of high rank in Turkey have, or had at the time I write of, by their shooting firman, the right to call upon the villagers in the neighbourhood in which they are shooting to assist in driving or searching for game. In my case it was not necessary to take advantage of such an offer; every one was on the alert for my arrival. The people told me that that very morning they had seen the noble beasts I was after, grazing outside the wood. So, gathering the villagers, boys carrying horns, men (much against my will) carrying guns, accompanied by every available dog, from the grand shepherd's dog to the yapping cur of the village, off we started.

The ravine was thickly wooded, and extended far up the mountain, where it ended in a bare spot without trees. To this place I went alone, leaving the crowd behind me with directions not to move till I was in my place, which instruction they most strictly followed. After half an hour's walk I arrived at the place I have named. I had hardly time to regain my breath when I heard a row below me as if Bedlam had been let loose. I loaded my gun with buckshot in one barrel and ball in the other, and remained as quiet as a mouse. As the noise of the beaters and dogs approached me, I heard a crash in the bushes within about forty yards of me, and presently a magnificent stag as big as a cow came slowly out of the cover, looking behind him, evidently not expecting an enemy in front. As soon as he was well clear of the bushes, I fired at him with buckshot and killed him dead. I hardly had time to think, when, with a tremendous rush, two other large deer broke out of the wood straight at me at full gallop. I fired a bullet at the foremost one, which turned back into the woods apparently wounded, and so it proved, for it ran among the beaters, evidently having lost its head, and was soon despatched among dogs, men and guns. He was a stag also, and as I claimed to have shot him, I may say that I had the luck to shoot a brace of splendid stags right and left. There is not a sportsman in Europe who would not have been delighted at such a chance of red deer like these; such as are not seen anywhere except in Asia Minor. The largest one had nineteen points to his antlers, weighed when cleaned a hundred and fifteen okes, equal to three hundred and twenty pounds English measure, and certainly was the largest stag I have ever met with, either in Scotland or in Austria. During the sixteen years that I have passed in the East I have only succeeded in killing four of these splendid animals. This I attribute very much to the want of proper deerhounds, which unfortunately I have not been able to procure.

The crowd of beaters make so much noise that the deer slip away at the sides of the thick covers unseen, whereas dogs would drive them more in a straight line towards the shooters if they are properly posted. In addition to this, it is always a great advantage when the hounds give tongue, and so warn the sportsman of the whereabouts of the game. These hounds, called 'colpoys,' can be procured in Roumania and Hungary. There is another description of deer found near the sea-coast in some parts of Asia Minor, which I will describe. It is in fact the pure wild fallow deer that stocks the parks of Europe, and if I am rightly informed is only to be found wild in Asia Minor, and even there it is rare.

I understand that in India or in Africa, where there are hundreds of different sorts of deer, the real fallow is not to be found. While shooting at a place called Camaris, near to Gallipoli, two years since, I discovered several herds of these deer, beautiful creatures, wild as hawks, and accordingly laid myself out to shoot some of them if possible. I tried driving, stalking, and every manoeuvre to circumvent them, without success. At last one day I started with my beaters to a place where there were many tracks of fallow deer. I was posted at a sort of small mountain pen, having on one side of me a young friend of mine, and at the other a native (these fellows won't go out unless they are allowed to carry their guns).

Shortly after the beaters had begun to halloo, a fallow hind glided by between me and my young friend, like a ghost. Not a sound in the wood gave notice of its approach. It was even quieter in its movements than a hare would have been. I put up my gun to fire, but seeing my friend's head right in the way and in a line with its muzzle, I waited a second, but the deer was gone. I had scarcely got over my disappointment when I heard the branches breaking in the wood very near to me, and suddenly a deer sprang right over my head, taking a flying leap, like a hunter would do over a fence.

This unusual action on the part of the deer called for unusual action on my part. As he had taken a flying leap over my head, I took a flying shot at him a second before he landed on the other side of me. The result was that he rolled over like a rabbit, shot from underneath through the heart. This deer proved to be a very fine specimen of the fallow, every point showing him to be of that species, except his antlers, which were quite straight. This I cannot account for; the natives, who had remarked this deer on several occasions feeding with the herd of fallow deer, called it the 'Cassic Boa,' which means 'straight-horned.' Some time after this I had some good sport with the fallow deer. Having got more accustomed to their habits, I found that it was of no use trying to approach them, their scent being too keen, their eyesight too sharp; the only way to get them is by very careful, in fact I may say scientific, driving.

Good boar shooting may be had by going some little distance from Constantinople. It usually is done either by beaters or with boarhounds; but I have had very good sport at boar while hunting for woodcocks and pheasants, in what may be called covert shooting—not exactly English covert shooting, in which almost every tree is known by the keepers, but in coverts of great extent, in which there are almost impassable thickets, made still more impassable by a well-known bramble called the 'wait a bit,' a thing that hooks on to your eyelids as you pass.

There it is that in these coverts spaniels, half-English, half country-bred dogs, do frequently the work of beaters, and it is a strange fact that while piggy starts at once from his lair at the approach of the boarhounds, he will not budge an inch for the little yapping spaniel, whom he treats with contempt.

I have known many instances when, on hearing a jolly row in the covert, I have crawled in on my hands and knees, and found a boar being bayed by my spaniels—in fact, I have killed more pigs in this way than in any other. The danger is that you may have your dogs killed by the boar; this has happened to me on one or two occasions, more especially with young dogs.

I had once a cunning old spaniel dog (poor 'Dick,' well known to most sportsmen out here), who has frequently come out of the wood with his mouth full of pig's hair, he evidently having torn the hair off the animal while laying in his lair. (Dick was never hurt by a pig.) I have often surrounded, with my brother sportsmen and myself, large bushes in which the piggies were securely hidden, driven them out, and shot them as one would do hares or rabbits.

I have heard a good deal of the danger of pig shooting, on account of the savage propensities of the animal; but I have found that, with very rare exceptions, the Anatolian wild boar always runs. It is true that they (she or he, the females are the most savage) have a nasty knack of giving a sort of jerk with their heads, when fighting or even passing an enemy, and that jerk means to a man the ripping up of his leg from his heel to his thigh, to a dog the tearing open of his entrails.

On one occasion I was out cock shooting, when some shepherds' dogs in a valley adjoining that in which I was walking started a large wild boar, a beast they call a 'solitaire,' from the fact that he is always seen after a certain time of life alone. The animal made for a ridge dividing the valleys; on getting there he passed along the sky-line, about eighty yards from where I was. I changed my cartridges and fired a ball at the pig, who rushed away, apparently unshot; on going to the spot, however, where he had passed when I fired, I found some drops of blood. This blood I traced for about half a mile, till I came to a large clump of bushes into which my spaniels dashed, evidently close to their game. I heard a tremendous row in the bushes, had hardly time to prepare when the great beast with his eyes all bloodshot and foaming at the mouth rushed straight at me. I was on a narrow path, from which there was no escape, as the boar was tearing up it, followed by the dogs. I fired a ball straight in his face, at the distance of about two yards, in spite of which he rushed straight on, knocked me clean over, and while passing me made the usual dangerously effective jerk I have alluded to above, by which he cut my boot from the ankle to the thigh, drew a little blood just above and inside of the knee; after which the boar rushed headlong for about thirty yards and dropped dead. I found that my bullet had smashed through his forehead straight between the eyes and gone into his brain.

He was an enormous brute, weighing when cleaned twenty-one stone; carrying the finest tusks I have seen anywhere as belonging to a wild boar. I only had one man with me; we were what may be called eight miles from anywhere. Still I was determined not to leave my prize; so I sent my man for a country waggon, and sitting down on my now harmless beast, smoked cigarettes and waited quietly till the vehicle came.

Now, apropos to wild boar attacking people, I am convinced that this animal had no intention of attacking me.

He was, though badly wounded by the first shot, running from the dogs, and I got in his way. Voila tout! On only one other occasion I nearly came to grief while boar shooting. On my arriving at a Turkish village one night, I was told that there was an enormous boar in the neighbourhood, who for a long time had been the terror of the country, inasmuch as he, accompanied by a large party of the pig tribe, had rooted up the crops all round the village, destroyed gardens, and tradition even said had killed children and eaten them (this latter story I don't take in). However, the poor people prayed me with tears in their eyes to rid them of their enemy, which I promised to do if possible. So the next morning off we started in the following order: first, myself and friends, accompanied by the elders of the village armed with old-fashioned guns; then the young men with knives and big sticks, the women and children bringing up the rear as lookers-on. I and my two friends were escorted into the centre of a large wood, in which very original seats in trees had been knocked up for us. The object of these seats was for our personal safety, but I as a sportsman saw at once that to be up a tree was not only advantageous in that respect, but also that we should be much more invisible, hidden among the branches of a tree, than by being stationed on the ground. So we mounted our trees, and the beaters went into the woods some half a mile from us. I never heard such a row as they made when they began the drive; they beat drums, fired guns, rang bells, and it was evident to me that no wild beast would hold to his lair under such a torrent of abuse. I found the words they were using were curses on the wild boar. I saw two or three fallow deer glide past me, with their usual ghostlike silence, and shortly afterwards the woods very near me seemed to shake with something coming. Suddenly some fifteen to twenty wild boar appeared among the bushes, coming straight towards me. The first of these was an enormous brute, evidently the boar we wanted.

I heard shots on either side of me from my friends, but I kept my eye on the big boar. To my astonishment he came right under the tree where I was sitting, and stopped to listen.

He cocked his head on one side, looked all round him, but forgot to look up the tree he was quite close to, in which was his enemy.

Taking advantage of this I fired a ball and an S.S.G. cartridge into him, before he could make up his mind which way to go; he gave a tremendous grunt and rolled over. I had not time to be overjoyed at my luck before I found myself rolling on the ground alongside of my victim, who, not being dead, was by no means a pleasant companion. The fact is that the seat on which I had been perched, having been very carelessly put up, had given way, and down I came from a height of about twelve feet. The branches of the tree had broken my fall, but my gun had fallen out of my hand and I had sprained my ankle, so that I was in rather an awkward position. The boar was shot through the spine, and could not get along, though he made frantic efforts to get at me.

It was of no use my calling out for help; everybody was calling out, everybody was excited, firing at the lots of pigs that were running about in all directions. At the moment when I began to think affairs somewhat serious (I tried to get up and walk, but could not do so on account of my ankle), as the boar was crawling towards me, looking very mischievous, two great shepherd's dogs arrived on the scene, and went straight in for my enemy. Poor beast! He made a gallant fight; he could hardly move, but he could use his head, and he tore one of the dogs open in a frightful way; then two or three men came up, but they were afraid to go near to the boar. I made them hand me my gun that was lying on the ground near me, with which I soon put a stop to the battle. Then all the people began to muster round their dead enemy, and it was laughable to see and hear how they abused and kicked the body of the pig. How to get the carcass away was the next question. We sent for two waggons and four or five Christians (as the Turks won't touch pig), one to carry me, the others the boar; so, after being placed in the waggons, we made with piggy a triumphant return to the village. Luckily the village was on the sea-shore, and my yacht was lying close to the land, so I got on board comfortably; but it was several days before I could walk.

I believe that that pig was nasty, and would have given me the jerk if he could have done so. Five other boar were killed on that occasion, one of my friends killing two; but I had the honour of killing the boar of the period in that part of the world. While referring to that neighbourhood, I would mention that it was within five miles of the place I have been writing about that poor Captain Selby, of H.M.S. 'Rapid,' was killed, some two years since. There are people who think that he was attacked and murdered by robbers. Such is not the case; his death was a most unfortunate occurrence brought on by a misunderstanding.

It is true that the man who shot poor Selby was an ignorant savage, but there was no premeditation. It was a word and a blow. The latter, though inexcusable to the last degree, was given by a ruffian whose class are in the habit of shooting and stabbing one another (let alone strangers, whom they detest) at the slightest provocation. They are not natives of Turkey, but come of strange tribes who live far away and are hired to guard the sheep in the winter months, returning to their homes in the summer. I went myself to the spot where the sad occurrence took place shortly afterwards, and found the people very penitent and very frightened. Let us hope that the punishment awarded to the principal actors in the sad affair will be a salutary warning for the future.

As brigandage may be considered as in some way connected with sporting, inasmuch as many refrain from going out shooting when they fear being robbed and murdered, I will say a few words about brigandage in Anatolia.

I have been for seventeen years an ardent lover of sport in Turkey, and have generally shot in Asia Minor. I have slept in villages that were supposed to be inhabited by brigands. I have been almost alone among an armed crowd of beaters, all of whom had the reputation of being robbers, but I have never been robbed or threatened with robbery. Perhaps there exists a sort of sympathy between brigands and sportsmen, for I cannot call to mind any instance of a sportsman being robbed. It is true that sometimes a fat financier, or rich rentier, who may have called himself a sportsman, has been carried off and ransom demanded for him, but a real sportsman never.

It is true that in some of the villages where dwell the peoples of a nation I am not supposed to love, you are liable to and probably will be exploite to a considerable extent in the way of pilfering cartridges, &c., but it is their nature to. So, brother sportsmen, when you come out here take your abode in Turkish villages.



CHAPTER XXI.

SPORT AND SOCIETY.

I have mentioned, in what I have written above relating to sport, the name of a somewhat celebrated spaniel of mine, whose name was 'Dick.'

The commencement of this bow-wow's career was as strange as the many adventures he afterwards went through. When he was quite a young dog, he once worked with me all day in ice and snow, and at last fell down lifeless. A heavy snowstorm was raging, and as poor Dick seemed quite dead, we made him a grave in the snow and covered him up with leaves and bushes. We accomplished this with difficulty, on account of the blinding snow and the streams that were much swollen by torrents from the mountains. Dick's burial-place was about eight miles from where the vessel was lying. We all got on board that night. I was deeply grieved at the loss of the dog, who had already shown great promise as a first-class sporting dog, a most difficult thing to procure in this country. What was our astonishment the next morning at daylight to see Dick on the beach, making piteous howls to draw attention to his whereabouts. He was warmly welcomed, as may be supposed; he did not seem a bit the worse for his brief sojourn in the grave, and went out shooting again the same day as happy as ever. This enthusiastic little spaniel was always doing strange things; he followed every fox and every badger into their holes, and we have had, time after time, to dig him out covered with blood and fearfully mauled, after having passed perhaps twenty-four hours in the earth.

Mr. Dick generally hunted alone, occasionally coming near to see that I was all right. Now this sounds bad for Dick's qualities as a sporting dog, but such a dog is necessary in a thickly-wooded region such as I shot in, when one wants to know what is in the country.

Dick, when he found anything, barked loudly; and this drew attention to the fact that there was game in that quarter. Sometimes, of course, he drove the game away; at others he drove it towards me. At all events he went to places where I never could have gone. On one occasion I heard a great noise among some long reeds near a lake were I was duck shooting—Dick barking, some other animal making a strange noise. This went on so long that at last I went to see what was the matter. After much trouble I got into the reeds and approached the noise, which was momentarily getting worse. On coming close I found an animal about Dick's size standing on its hind legs and fighting with its fore paws, Dick covered with blood, fighting hard and watching an opportunity to close with his enemy. On my approach the animal dropped on to fore paws and endeavoured to escape, on which Dick jumped on to him, thus making it very difficult for me to use my gun. However, at last, by watching my opportunity, I fired a shot which disposed of the fighting powers of the beast, which turned out to be a very large badger. I never could understand what he was doing so far away from his place of refuge. Was he after ducks, or what? The animal was at least a quarter of a mile away from dry land, being in the middle of a marsh, overgrown with reeds. Another of Mr. Dick's adventures ended more unfortunately for him, as I fear he never got over its effects. I again, as on the last occasion, heard him evidently furiously engaged with something in a thick wood. After crawling on my hands and knees for some time, I found Dick and two other of my spaniels in furious combat with an enormous wild cat, who when I came up was holding her own against the dogs. The beast got her back against a tree, and was fighting all three dogs, keeping them at a respectful distance. My man seized a piece of wood, more like a little tree than a stick, and made a blow at the cat, which blow unfortunately came down with great force on Dick's head. The poor dog lay senseless for some time, and then crawled away, seeming to say, 'I'll have nothing more to do with you.' He never recovered that blow, and became quite a different dog, dying some months afterwards.

The feathered game shooting is very good in the neighbourhood of Constantinople. Pheasants, though rare, may be obtained five or six in a day. I have killed fifteen to my own gun, and with a party of three we bagged sixty-six in three days.

Snipe shooting is also very good. An idea of the bags that may be made will be seen when I say that at Besika Bay, close to the Dardanelles, I killed in three days three hundred and three snipe, an average of one hundred and one a day. When there is snow lying on the hills there are plenty of cock; myself and two friends having killed in three days two hundred and ninety-eight long bills.

My best bag in cock has been sixty-three in one day's shooting alone. I have lately taken to punting after ducks, and have been very successful. One gets twenty to thirty a day, and occasionally a swan. I once killed four of the latter with one shot from my punt gun (one of Holland & Holland's). Hares are not very numerous; to get three or four in a day is counted good luck; but one generally picks up one or two during a day's shooting. Thus the sum of what you have in this country is red deer, fallow deer, roe deer, pigs, wolves, and bears (as to the latter, rare), hares, pheasants, cocks, snipe, quails, and ducks; so that a man who lays himself out for sport and has a yacht can have plenty of amusement between September and March.

The coast of Karamania, taking in all the coast from some distance below Smyrna, passing Rhodes and so on to the Gulf of Ayas, affords all the way along capital sport to yachting men. For example, in the large gulfs of Boudroum and Marmorice, capital anchorage will be found, and a country almost virgin as far as sport is concerned.

Some years since, while commanding an English ship-of-war, I had the good fortune to be sent on a roving commission against pirates that were supposed to infest that coast. Somehow I always imagined that pirates were more or less sportsmen, so I hunted for them in places that looked gamey, and thus made the acquaintance of many almost unknown, or at all events unfrequented, harbours and creeks, in which I had famous sport. On the coast of Karamania the ibex is to be found in considerable quantities; the red-legged partridge and the francolin are also very abundant, and give capital sport.

There are also at the head of the gulf I have alluded to large marshes for duck and snipe. The most celebrated, because the best known place in the part I am alluding to, is the Gulf of Ayas, into which runs the well-known (to all naval sportsmen) river called the Jihoon. A yacht must anchor at some distance off the entrance of this river, but the anchorage is quite safe in all weathers. Getting over the bar of the river is a matter at times of considerable difficulty, but once inside the bar you are in the paradise of shooting. A small steam launch is necessary to stem the strong current, and to tow another boat up with tents, provisions, &c. It is true that in my time we had no steam launches, and I shall not forget the hard work we had to take two boats sufficiently far up the river to get well into the shooting grounds, and even after two days' struggling we did not arrive so far as I should have wished (we, in fact, only got four miles up the stream). Still we had some rare sport, the more especially with pigs and francolin. The morning after we had pitched our tents some wandering Arabs came to us and offered to beat the woods, which they declared to be full of wild boar. They told us that the habit of these animals was, on being driven, to take to the river and swim to the other side; so we placed our guns along the banks and told the boat to guard the river from pigs swimming across, and try to stop them as best they could. The guns available for the shore work consisted of myself and two friends and my coxswain, who was armed with a ship's rifle. The Arabs went into the bush on horseback; the beat had hardly begun when a lot of pigs were started, all making for the river; three of these were knocked over. As they approached several others dashed into the river, and a most amusing hunt was made after them by the sailors. Not being armed with rifles, their weapons of offence against piggy were revolvers, ropes, and the stretchers of the boats.

There was, as may be supposed, great excitement among the men when the pigs took to the water; they at once went at them, firing revolvers, pulling after them as they swam, using language not allowed in these refined days in the navy; and, before we got to the scene of action they had lassoed as it were two fine pigs, and tied them to trees on the river-side, and when we arrived were firing their revolvers at them apparently with very little effect; however, we soon gave the animals the coup de grace. Thus we killed five pigs in our first drive. We took the liver, alias fry, out of the pigs to eat (it is most excellent), cut off the heads of the tuskers, and hung the remaining parts on a tree to wait our return, changing our camp further up the river the same night. The next morning early I took a stroll into the woods by myself; while looking about me I saw what I thought was a large animal sleeping in the bushes. I began accordingly to stalk him. I got within eighty yards, put my gun up to shoot, but as I could not pitch on a vital part to aim at, only seeing a mass of what was evidently an animal rolled up, I went nearer and nearer; in fact, little by little, I got within ten yards of the quarry; then I fired a ball into what I now saw was a huge pig. No move! What did it mean? I could not have killed it sleeping. However, I took courage and went close and put my hand on the beast; what should it be but an immense boar lying dead in his lair. He must have died months before I found him, as the skin fell to pieces on being touched, the hair into powder; his head was a splendid one, but I could only save the jawbones, in which were a grand pair of tusks. The moral of this was that pigs, like everything else, die—sometimes quietly in their beds, be that retreat only a lair in the forest; but it is a rare occurrence to find relics of wild animals in so perfect a state. I fancy their friends and relations generally eat them. The bed or lair he was lying in was a most snug spot, and he would have been quite invisible had not some of the brushwood been burnt away, Arab fashion, a short time before I found him.

I must warn any sportsman intending to shoot in the Jihoon river that the wandering Arabs who are to be found there, though not brigands of a high order, are petty thieves to the last degree. We were always obliged to keep a watch in our tents, leaving a man behind in charge when we went on shooting excursions. On one occasion we found on our return that our watchman had captured an old woman whom he caught in the act of creeping under the tent and stealing a spoon. I had myself a curious adventure. An Arab told me that he knew where a boar was lying in the long grass, and that he would take me to the spot if I would accompany him. We started off together, and on getting well into the wood we went on our hands and knees, crawling under the trees and brushwood, towards the spot where the boar was supposed to be. We had to keep quite close together. I carried round my neck a very pretty silver whistle, which I prized exceedingly. Suddenly, when we were in a very thick part of the bush, the Arab seized hold of my whistle and held it tight. I immediately grasped the hand that held the whistle; this I did with my right hand holding his left. He, with his right hand, tried to draw a knife. I, with my left, tried to get my gun to bear on him, but there was so little room to spare on account of the thick bush that both our operations were difficult of performance. As soon as I saw him trying to draw a knife, I dropped the hand with the whistle, and seized that with which he tried to draw the knife. Thus the play went on for two or three minutes; neither of us spoke, all our energies were directed on our different games. At last, by turning round a little, I succeeded in giving him a tremendous kick, which rolled him over on his back; then my gun was free, and I held it to his head, upon which he took an attitude of supplication on his knees, and prayed for quarter. I made him give me his knife, go on all-fours again, and creep before me out of the wood. This was a most audacious attempt at petty robbery. I should like to have peppered him a little, but he was so penitent, I decided to let him go. I don't think he meant to stab me; I think he merely wanted to cut the string that held the whistle. These men were not generally murderers. On this trip we killed twelve pigs, a hundred and seven francolin, one lynx, and lots of cock and ducks. Coming back to the ship I, and those with me in my boat, very nearly came to utter grief. There was a good deal of sea on the bar of the river. The cutter that was with me got over all safe, but my whale-boat being loaded heavily with pigs, &c., refused to rise with the waves, and not doing so, the consequences were that she filled and capsized. We had all to jump and make for the shore, a distance of nearly a mile, being in the greatest danger while doing so of getting into the current of the river. Any one who had done this must have been washed away and drowned; however, thank goodness, all hands were saved. The whale-boat was afterwards picked up, having been washed out to sea, but we lost all tents, spare guns, &c.; the pigs remained in the boat, as they were stowed under the thwarts, and hadn't room to float out; so, friends, take warning of the bar of the Jihoon river.

It was about this time that I received a report from some American missionaries to the effect that one of their comrades had been robbed and murdered by some Arabs who inhabited the mountains near Alexandretta, people whose evil deeds had for some time past brought them into notoriety. Although I was under orders to join the commander-in-chief, I took it upon myself to remain and assist the Americans in hunting down if possible the murderers of their comrade.

I confess I was made more zealous in the cause from hearing that there were 'lots of big game on the hills.' I invited two or three of these American missionaries to join my mess, and off we went to look for the murderers. As this is a chapter on shooting, I will as briefly as possible state what we did in the official way. In the first place we anchored at the head of the Gulf of Ayas, near a large town where resided the chief authority of the neighbourhood in which the murder had been committed. I landed with the missionaries, several of my officers, and some marines to act as an escort, and paid an official visit to this gentleman, who was called the caimakam, or chief magistrate. This great man told us that we should certainly with his assistance find the people we were after. He suggested that we should accompany him with a small body of our men, to which he could add some of his zeptiehs: that thus accompanied he would go to a place on the hill where we should find what we wanted. He said that a little 'backsheesh' was necessary. This latter we found, and the next day we started.

We ascended amongst the most magnificent wooded hills I ever saw. 'Such places for game!' thought I, till at last we halted at a clump of splendid oak trees. Under one of these a grand luncheon was spread, of which we were all invited to partake. During the luncheon a man rushed up to our host and whispered in his ear something which seemed to give him great satisfaction, for he at once smilingly said, 'Captain, I have found the men you are after;' and sure enough we saw approaching two ruffianly looking fellows, tied together, and being dragged along by men on horseback. I hope they were the right men. I will presume that they were, but they had been very quick in catching them. After my missionary friend who spoke their language had interrogated the prisoners, he requested that they might be kept apart, which was done, and they were given in charge of separate sentinels, to whose horses they were tied. We then returned to our lunch, our pipes, and our coffee. Suddenly we heard a pistol shot, a rush, and a scream from the neighbourhood of the prisoners. It seems that one of them had drawn the pistol from his guardian's belt, shot him dead, jumped on to the horse, and galloped off. Everybody, marines and all, tried to follow. Such a row never was heard; but the man knew the country, and we saw him no more. I was rather glad, for he must have been a plucky fellow.

The other prisoner was doubly secured and taken down to the village. He was afterwards hanged, so justice was satisfied and my work finished. I got a letter of thanks from the President of the United States, of which I was and am still very proud, and meant to have used had blockade-running brought me to grief.

This business being satisfactorily concluded, I asked my friend the caimakam if there was any big game to be had. His answer was, 'Chok au Va,' which meant there was plenty: and he undertook to beat the neighbouring woods that very day with his men. We were told that there were plenty of roe deer, foxes, jackals, &c., so we loaded our guns with S.S.G. cartridges (which means, I may tell it to the uninitiated, buck-shot). We were stationed on the outskirts of a splendid oak wood that looked like holding any mortal thing in the way of game. Soon as the beaters set to work cocks began to fly about in all directions, but we had an instinct that something more important would turn up, so took no notice of feathered game. I was watching close, trying to look through almost impenetrable brushwood, when I heard a rustling sort of noise near me, and suddenly I caught sight of something which almost made my hair stand on end—a great tiger leopard, creeping, stealthily as a cat, out of the wood, within twenty yards of where I was standing. Fortunately he did not look my way. What was I to do? My gun, as I said, was loaded with buck-shot; a miss or a wound would have been sure to bring the brute on top of me. However, I did not hesitate more than a couple of seconds; I pointed my gun at his heart just behind the shoulder, and pulled the trigger. The whole charge went straight where I pointed it, and the tiger rolled over on his back. I put a ball into my gun and approached him very gingerly. When I got close to him I found he hadn't a kick in him. His claws were crunched up as if grasping something, his grand eyes were growing dim, and though, to make all sure, I fired a ball into his head, it was not necessary, as I found nine buckshot in the heart. He was a splendid beast, eleven feet from tip of tail to end of nose. It was said that he had killed a shepherd some days before, so he deserved his fate.

Before returning to the ship that evening, we arranged that the Arabs should turn out the next day to drive the covers on the beach near the ship, which were supposed to hold deer and pigs. I must mention that these Arabs are very different to the wandering tribes we had lately been amongst; they are warlike, unscrupulous, and dishonest. We made an arrangement with them that all game killed should belong to us, the beaters being paid in gunpowder, which they prized very much. The Arabs thought we should only find pig, and as Mussulmen won't touch it, the bargain was considered satisfactory to both parties.

It so happened that at the first drive a very fine deer, of a species I had never seen before, broke cover. I had the luck to shoot him, and as the ship was lying very near, we hailed her for a boat in which to send off our game. I saw a good deal of whispering among the Arabs, who, after some discussion, informed us through one of the missionaries, who kindly acted as interpreter, that the deer must belong to them, as they only promised to give the pigs, and they openly declared we should not take it on board. I wasn't going to stand this, for many reasons. In the first place it was necessary to show these people that we were their masters; secondly, by our agreement the deer was ours. When the boat (a cutter with ten men unarmed) had come on shore, I gave orders for the men to return and bring their arms and ten marines, also armed. The Arabs, of whom there were about one hundred armed to the teeth, seemed firm in their decision; so was I. When I pointed to my armed men, who were by this time landing, they pointed with the same significant gestures to their armed men. At this critical moment, my first lieutenant, seeing that something was wrong, fired a shell right over our heads to intimidate the Arabs, and the result showed that it had that effect. The deer was lying on the beach. I ordered the marines to form a cordon round him, and the sailors to bring up the boat stretchers on which to lay the animal. When all was ready I gave the command to carry it away and put it in the boat. The Arabs cocked their muskets and made a move forward; the marines turned and faced them. I thought we were in for a fight; however, the bearers carried off their charge and placed it in the boat, when to my astonishment the Arab chief put down his musket and came and made his salaam to me, asking if he might be allowed to visit the ship. I, of course, was delighted. We took him and several of his friends on board, and the visit ended in their all getting roaring drunk, being hoisted over the ship's side and landed on the beach. So passed off what might have been a serious affair. I might have become involved in a long explanation to show that I was right in protecting my game by armed force, but under all the circumstances I feel that I was fully justified in doing so.

I should like before finishing these sketches to say something about the society of Constantinople. As one cannot always be out shooting, it is very important to our happiness to have something to fall back upon in the social way. I was told once by a very great friend of mine, who saw that I was inclined to fret, 'to take everything as a joke.' If one's liver is in good order it is very easy to do so, but sometimes the contrary is the case, and it makes one at times quite savage to see the airs that are temporarily put on by those that form the so-called upper or diplomatic society of Pera. Here are really amiable people so utterly spoilt by the exalted idea of their own dignity that they become absolute bores, especially to any one accustomed to good society. If you go to a soiree you see grouped together, for fear of contamination with the outsiders (without which a successful party cannot be formed), the members of the so-called 'sacred circle,' talking to each other in dignified (or undignified, as the case may be judged) whispers. While all are cheerful and gay, you scarcely see a smile on the countenances of these tremendous swells.

If you go in the street you will meet a creature dressed in most gorgeous apparel, armed to the teeth with firearms that probably won't go off, knives and daggers covered with precious stones, walking solemnly along. If you look carefully among the crowd in his wake you will discover some one, or ones, walking with an indignant swagger at being hustled by the vulgar crowd. The man in gold, armed to the teeth, is what is called a cavass, and these swells behind are the representatives, male or female, of some foreign potentate, taking a walk. It would be quite infra dig. to go without one of these useless appendages. Again, if an individual not belonging to the 'sacred circle' meets a foreign representative who condescends to speak to him, and while he is doing so another member of an embassy 'heaves in sight,' the first swell will immediately sheer off, looking ashamed at having so far forgotten himself as to be seen speaking to any one outside 'his circle.' You may occasionally be invited to the houses of these exalted personages, but there is always an implied condescension in their attitude which tends to negative the effect of their good intentions. And all this is a great pity, because these people must be tired of each other, and would find quite as much intelligence outside as inside their circle. Besides, there are charming people among them who would ornament any society, but their ill-acted airs of 'brief authority' quite spoil them, and make them, as I said, bores to themselves and to those who would be their friends.

I will, in proof of what I say, relate a short anecdote as to what occurred in the house of a friend of mine.

This friend gave a very large fancy dress ball, at which two or three hundred people were present. The ball was in every way a success, but as the giver did not belong to the 'sacred circle,' the members of that body only condescended to go for a short time. I have no doubt (for there are lots of jolly people among them) that they would have liked to have stopped much longer, but it was not thought 'dignified.' So, after a short time, most of the 'sacred circle' sneaked away. One of them who had two charming daughters, devoted to dancing, not having noticed the departure of the great people till that moment, came hurriedly to my friend and said, 'Goodnight, I must go, every one is gone.' 'Every one?' said my friend, 'why, look at the rooms, there are at least two hundred people dancing and amusing themselves.' 'Yes, I see,' said the diplomat (he was rather a small one), 'but I mean the ambassadors and their parties, are gone, so I must go; but for once, to please you, I'll leave my daughters.' I believe my friend answered, 'You may go to the d——l.' This is a fact, and shows the unfortunate system that ruins to a great extent the sociability of society in Pera.

Now it is true that all these people are called barons, counts, viscounts, &c., but my friend belongs to a right good family, and would have been more than the equal of many of them had they met in Paris, London, St. Petersburg, Berlin, or Vienna. The title of baron, &c., seems to me to be always given to a diplomat ex-officio. However, barons or no barons, the rule of exclusiveness laid down by the 'sacred circle' at Constantinople is to be deplored as it injures society sadly. Few large parties are given now except those got up by the great people. When an outsider sends out invitations for a ball, or any other kind of reunion, the negotiations that go on between the swells as to whether they should patronise it or not are comical in the extreme. Should ever so slight an omission in the form of these invitations, or a mere accident in the delivery thereof, appear to them to touch their dignity, they will probably all absent themselves in a body, even were it question of the marriage or the funeral of one of their oldest and most respectable acquaintances. Not being one of them, and not caring very much for artificial society, I look on with great amusement. Some one gave great offence on a late occasion, while describing society in Pera, by suggesting that if there were a European court here things would be very different; so they might. People would then find their level, as they do in other capitals.

I feel very sorry for the members of the 'sacred circle.' Not only do they lose much now, but it will be awkward for them when they go back from whence they came. A short time ago I asked a very high and mighty personage if she did not fear the change that must come when she left Constantinople. She answered with great frankness: 'I feel that most of what you say is correct, but before I came here I was very small fry; now I know I am a swell, and mean to enjoy myself.' She was like those reckless ones who cried: 'Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.' I have seen a stand made by one or two of these mighty ones, an attempt to break down the system of pompous exclusiveness, but that attempt unfortunately failed.

I must say that the foreign colonies in Pera are much to blame, for they worship with all their minds and all their strength their different chiefs and chieftainesses, and human nature being weak, &c. &c.

Apart from the 'sacred circle' there is a nice little society where people go in for enjoying themselves, and succeed in doing so very comfortably; but even there, with some few exceptions, there is that secret longing for one or two of the swells—even a junior secretary of an embassy is looked upon as a desideratum.

The Greeks keep very much to themselves; so do the Armenians. The Turks are exceedingly fond of going into society, but their domestic arrangements tend to prevent their entertaining.

His Majesty the Sultan frequently invites European ladies to his dinner parties, and those who have had that honour must have thoroughly enjoyed the delicious music and the pleasant entertainments after dinner at the Palace of Yildiz. I don't see why His Imperial Majesty's example is not followed by some of his subjects; perhaps we may yet come to that by-and-by.

In what I have said about society in Pera I have not meant to be personal or offensive in any way. My object has been to show up a rotten system whereby everybody suffers. I have some remote hope that things may change for the better, especially as one of the chief promoters of the system has now left Constantinople.

If I bring these pages to a somewhat abrupt conclusion, it is because I have had the bad luck to get a chill out shooting, and have been somewhat seriously ill. However, I have hope that there is 'life in the old dog yet,' and that I may before long have some other adventures of a similar description to add to these 'unvarnished sketches' of my life.



_EXTRACT FROM THE 'DAILY TELEGRAPH,'

June 21, 1886._

'There will be some slight and melancholy satisfaction to his sorrowing family, and his many friends, in the knowledge of the fact that Hobart Pasha, a short time before his death, had prepared for publication a memoir of his stirring life and adventures. The only fault, if fault there be, in this record, may lie in the circumstance that its readers may think it too brief. At all events, we shall be told what Hobart had been about ever since the year 1836. It is certain that he never was idle. Even before he had passed his examination for lieutenant, he had distinguished himself while serving in the squadron told off to suppress the slave trade in Brazilian waters: and in those days our naval operations against the Portuguese traders in "blackbirds" involved considerable peril to life and limb.

'Eighteen years, however, elapsed before Captain Augustus Hobart was able to shot his guns in view of the broadside of a European foe. He had previously enjoyed two years' half-holiday at home; that is to say, he had been appointed, as a reward for his services in South America, to a lieutenancy on board the Royal yacht, the Victoria and Albert, then commanded by the late Adolphus Fitz-Clarence. But in the historically momentous year 1854 there was serious business to be done by Lieutenant—now Commander—Hobart. A diplomatic squabble between France and Russia about the Holy Places in Palestine developed into an angry quarrel between the Emperor Nicholas, France, and England. We went to war with Russia. A magnificent squadron of British first-rates was despatched to the Black Sea with the avowed object of destroying the Russian Fleet, which had characteristically annihilated the Turkish Fleet in the harbour of Sinope. We did not do much in the Black Sea beyond running the Tiger on shore, where her crew were captured by the Muscovites. We bombarded Odessa perfunctorily, and precisely in that portion of the city where our shot and shell could do the least harm. We did not destroy the Russian Fleet, for the sufficing reason that the Russian Commander-in-Chief sank all his three-deckers full fathom five in the harbour of Sebastopol.

'In the Baltic, however, there was a little more fighting to show for the many millions sterling wrung from the British taxpayer. To the coasts of Finland was sent a splendid Armada, commanded by one of the bravest seamen that ever adorned the glorious muster-roll of the Royal Navy of England, Admiral Sir Charles Napier. Under his orders was Captain Augustus Hobart, in command of Her Majesty's ship Driver. "Lads, sharpen your cutlasses!" thus began the memorable manifesto addressed by the hero of St. Jean d'Acre to the gallant tars. The Baltic fleet was to do wonders. The lads, with their cutlasses very well sharpened, went aboard the Russian war-ships before Cronstadt, stormed the seven forts which guard the entrance to that harbour, and sailed up the Neva even to St. Petersburg itself. It is true that ere the war was over a spy informed Lord Augustus Loftus, then Her Majesty's Ambassador at Berlin, that a certain channel or waterway existed unguarded by any fort at all, by which a British flotilla with muffled oars could have got quietly into the Neva without taking the trouble to destroy the Russian fleet or to blow the seven forts of Cronstadt into the air. The revelations of the spy went for nothing; and, after the cutlasses of the lads in blue-jackets had been sharpened to a razor-like degree of keenness, those blades, for some occult reason, were not allowed to cut deep enough; the only cutting—and running into the bargain—being done by the Russian fleet, which, safely ensconced in the harbour of Cronstadt, defied us from behind the walls of fortresses which we did not care to bombard. Still, the Baltic fleet was not wholly idle. There was some fighting and some advantage gained over the Russians at Helsingfors, at Arbo, and notably at Bomarsund. In all these engagements Commander Hobart distinguished himself—so brilliantly, indeed, as to be named with high approval in official despatches.

'Soldiers in peace, Bacon has remarked, are like chimneys in summer. Hobart seemed resolved that the aphorism quoted by Francis of Verulam should not be verified in the case of sailors. The fire of the Earl of Buckinghamshire's son was always alight, and he became, during the great Civil War in America the boldest of blockade-runners. When the Confederacy collapsed Hobart, by this time a Post-Captain, received overtures of employment from the Turkish Government, and in 1868 he was appointed, as Admiral Slade had been before him, to a high command in the Ottoman Navy. It was a curious illustration of the various turns of fate here below to find in 1869 the Sultan, the Commander of the Faithful, sending the Giaour Hobart Pasha, the erst Secesh blockade-runner, to the island of Crete to put down blockade-running on the part of the intensely patriotic but occasionally troublesome Greeks. Hobart was entrusted with unlimited powers, and he accomplished his mission with so much vigour and with so much skill as to insure the good graces of the Porte, and he soon rose to be Inspector-General of the Imperial Ottoman Navy. Although his name was necessarily erased from the list of the Royal Navy when he definitely threw in his lot with the Sultan on the breaking out of the Turko-Russian war, all English admirers of pluck and daring were glad to learn at a comparatively recent period that the Honourable Augustus Charles Hobart Hampden had been reinstated by Royal command in his rank in the British Navy.

'It was the good fortune of the distinguished maritime commander just deceased, to win golden opinions from all sorts of peoples, and his name and prowess will be as cordially remembered in his native land, and in the Southern States of America, as on the shores of the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn.

'A thorough Englishman at heart, he was none the less a fervent philo-Turk in politics and convictions, and latterly devoted his talents and his life to the defence of the integrity of the Ottoman Empire. As ready with his pen as with his sword, he was a clear, trenchant, vigorous writer, and could talk on paper as fluently and as cogently about ironclads and torpedoes as about the wrongs of the natives of Lazistan, the necessity of upholding the integrity of the Turkish Empire, and of circumventing the dark and crooked wiles of Russian diplomacy. Altogether Augustus Charles Hobart was a remarkable man—bluff, bold, dashing, and somewhat dogged. There was in his composition something of the mediaeval "condottiere," and a good deal more of that Dugald Dalgetty whom Scott drew. Gustavus Adolphus would have made much of Hobart; the great Czarina, Catherine II., would have appointed him Commander-in-Chief of her fleet, and covered him with honours, even as she did her Scotch Admiral Gleig, and that other yet more famous sea-dog, king of corsairs, Paul Jones. It would be unjust to sneer at Hobart as a mercenary. His was no more a hired sword than were the blades of Schomberg and Berwick, of Maurice de Saxe and Eugene of Savoy. When there was fighting to be done Hobart liked to be in it—that is all. Of the fearless, dashing, adventurous Englishman, ready to go anywhere and do anything, Hobart was a brilliantly representative type. Originally endowed with a most vigorous physique, his constitution became sapped at last by long years of hardship and fatigue incident to the vicissitudes of a daring, adventurous career. He left Constantinople on leave of absence some months ago to recruit his shattered health, and spent several weeks at the Riviera. But it would seem that he experienced little relief from the delicious climate of the South of France, and it was on his homeward journey to Constantinople that this brave and upright British worthy breathed his last. The immediate cause of his death was, it is stated, an affection of the heart, a term covering a vast extent of unexplored ground. It would be nearer the truth to say that the frame of Augustus Charles Hobart was literally worn out by travel and exposure and hard work of every kind which had been his lot, with but brief intervals of repose, ever since the day, in the year 1836, when as a boy of thirteen he joined the Navy as a midshipman.'

* * * * *

It will be gratifying to Englishmen to know that their distinguished countryman received at his burial all the honours due to his high station and noble qualities. Such a concourse of people of all ranks and nations had never been seen at any public ceremony on the Bosphorus as that which, on July 24, accompanied the remains of Hobart Pasha to their last resting place in the English cemetery at Scutari, not far from the spot where a tall granite obelisk records the brave deeds and glorious death of those heroes who perished in the Crimean War.

[Footnote 1: It must be understood that both men and boats were disguised so as to resemble the ordinary fishing coasters about those parts.]



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