“I TELL you what it is, Mr. Beveridge,” the governor said when the latter went up to call as usual upon his arrival at Corfu, “I quite begin to dread the appearance of that smart schooner of yours; during the last five weeks you have added a thousand mouths to my anxieties. What we are to do with all these poor creatures I have not the slightest idea. We can’t go on feeding them for ever; and what with the voluntary fugitives and those brought over to us, there are at present some forty or fifty thousand strangers in the islands, and of these something like half are absolutely dependent on us for the means of living.”
“It is a very difficult problem,” Mr. Beveridge said. “Of course, when the war is over the great proportion of them will return to their homes in Greece; but the fugitives from the Turkish islands and mainland are in a different position. Doubtless, when peace is made, there will be some arrangement by which those families which have men among them can also return to their homes without being molested; but those consisting only of women and children could not do so. Some of the women and girls can find employment in Greek families, and I suppose the rest will finally become absorbed as servants in the towns on the Adriatic.”
“I see nothing else for it, Mr. Beveridge; unless you choose to continue your good work, and transport them in batches across the Atlantic. I believe there is a great dearth of women in Canada and the United States.”
“You will have to set up schools and teach them English first, sir,” Mr. Beveridge laughed, “or they would not be welcomed there. When they can all speak our language I will think over your suggestion.”
“Do you think that Greece ever will be free, Mr. Beveridge?”
“I think so. Certainly I think so. These terrible massacres on both sides seem to render it absolutely impossible that they should return to their former relations. The Turks have not yet made their great effort, and I believe that when they do they will reconquer Greece. But I do not think they will hold it. The hatred between the races is now so bitter that they can never live together in peace; and I believe that the Greeks will continue their resistance so long that Europe at last will come to their assistance, and insist upon a frontier line being drawn. This terrible affair of Chios, dreadful as it is, will tend to that. The Christian feeling of Europe will become more and more excited until, if the governments hold back, the people will force them forward, and England and France at least will, if necessary, intervene by force. I believe that they would do so now were it not for jealousy of Russia. It is Russia who fomented this revolution for her own purposes, and it is solely the fear that she will reap the whole benefit of their action that causes England and France to look on this struggle with folded arms.”
“I fancy you are right, and that that will be the end of it,” the governor said. “I need not say how earnestly I wish the time would come. I can assure you I have a very anxious time of it. What with providing for all these people, what with preventing breaches of neutrality by the Greeks, and what with the calumnies and complaints that the Greeks scatter broadcast against us, I can assure you that my task is not an enviable one.”
“I can quite imagine that. The Greeks make it very hard for their well-wishers to assist them; indeed, if they were bent upon bringing obloquy upon their name they could hardly act otherwise than they are doing. The one man they have hitherto produced who goes his way regardless of intrigue and faction, fighting bravely for the country, is Constantine Kanaris, who has destroyed two Turkish ships with his own hand. A hundred of such men as he is, and Greece would have achieved her independence without foreign assistance; and yet, even in his own ship, he is unable to maintain even a shadow of what we should consider discipline. He himself acknowledged as much to me at Psara.”
“I hear you took him off after he had burned the Turkish war-vessel.”
“Yes; we were lying off the port and saw it. I am glad we were not nearer, for it was a terrible business. It is a barbarous war altogether.”
“Then why do you mix yourself up in it, Mr. Beveridge?”
“My mother was a Greek, and I have always lived in Greek thought rather than in English. I desire not only the independence but the regeneration of the Greeks. They have lost all the virtues of their ancestors save their intelligence; but once free they will, I hope and trust, recover their lost virtues and become, if not a great people—which they can hardly do, their numbers being comparatively so few—at least a worthy one.”
“I hope they may. They certainly have enthusiastic friends. Only a week or two since, a young fellow named Hastings, a lieutenant of our navy, came out. He has a fortune of some seven or eight thousand pounds, which he intends to devote to buying and fitting out a ship for their service. There are scores of English and French officers kicking their heels at Corinth, vainly asking for employment. And I hear they are organizing a corps, composed entirely of foreign officers, who will fight as private soldiers without pay, simply for the purpose of endeavouring to shame the Greeks into a feeling of patriotism.
“Where are you thinking of sailing now? If you have no fixed plans, I should advise you to go round to Athens. They say the Turkish garrison is at the last extremity. I have had a message from the consulate there, asking me to send a British ship of war round to insist upon the conditions of surrender being observed; but unfortunately the insane rage for retrenchment at home has so diminished the strength of our fleet that we haven’t a single ship in these waters at a time like this. I hear that the French consul has also sent urgently asking for ships of war. At any rate, your influence might do something.”
“I fear not,” Mr. Beveridge said gravely. “However, my men and guns might have some weight, and at any rate I will go round at once and do my best. If possible, I am even more anxious to save Turks from massacre by Greeks, than Greeks from massacre by Turks.”
“I can understand that,” the governor said cordially. “Well, I wish you every good fortune, Mr. Beveridge; but I say honestly that I do not wish to see your saucy schooner again unless she comes in with empty decks. Give them a turn at Malta next time, my dear sir, and I shall feel really grateful towards you.”
Four days after leaving Corfu the schooner dropped anchor in the port of Athens. Learning from the first boat that put off to them that the capitulation of the Turks was to be signed on the following morning, Mr. Beveridge determined to land at once, in order that he might see as many of the leading officials as possible, and urge upon them the necessity of preventing any repetition of the breaches of faith which had brought such disgrace to the Greek name.
“I shall take Zaimes with me,” he said to Martyn, “and should I see any signs of an intention upon the part of the populace to commence a massacre of the Turks I will send him off instantly. In that case, Captain Martyn, you will at once land the whole of the crew fully armed, with the exception, say, of five men, and march them to the British consulate in Athens. You know where it is. Take a Greek flag with you, for two reasons; in the first place, if you were to go without it the Greeks would spread the report that the crew of an English ship of war had landed; and in the second place, it may quieten and appease the mob if they see that we are in the service of Greece.”
“Very well, sir, I will carry out your instructions. I don’t think that rascally mob will venture to interfere with us.”
“I hope not, Martyn; but at any rate we must risk that. Any other message I may have to send off to you I shall send by an ordinary messenger; but if you are wanted, I shall trust no one but Zaimes.”
Late in the evening a Greek came off with a letter. All would, Mr. Beveridge hoped, be well. The Turks had agreed to surrender their arms, and the Greeks had bound themselves to convey them to Asia Minor in neutral ships. By the terms of capitulation the Turks were to be allowed to retain one-half of their money and jewels, and one-half of their movable property.
“I have every hope that the treaty will be respected,” Mr. Beveridge wrote. “I am happy to say that the Bishop of Athens, who is a man of high character, and President of the Areopagus, has insisted upon all the civil and military authorities taking a most solemn oath to observe strictly the terms of capitulation, and so far to redeem the good faith of the nation, which has been so deeply stained by the violation of so many previous treaties.”
The next morning the Mussulmans marched out from the Acropolis. Out of the 1150 remaining only 180 were men capable of bearing arms, so stoutly and obstinately had they defended the place, yielding only when the last drop of water in the cisterns was exhausted. They were housed in some extensive buildings in the town. Three days passed quietly. Two ephors, who had been ordered by the Greek government to hasten the embarkation of the Turks, took no steps whatever to do so. On the morning of the fourth day, Horace, who had been twice on shore to see his father, saw a boat rowing off to the ship. He turned a glass upon it and exclaimed:
“There is Zaimes on board that boat, Captain Martyn. I am sure my father would not send him on board unless there is trouble in the town.”
Martyn did not wait for the boat to arrive, but instantly mustered and armed the crew, and the boats were in the water by the time Zaimes arrived alongside. He handed a note to Martyn; it contained only the words:
“Land instantly, they are murdering the Turks.”
With a hearty execration upon the Greeks, Martyn ordered the men to take their places in the boats, and gave his final orders to Tarleton, who was to remain in charge.
“Get all the guns loaded with ball, Mr. Tarleton. For aught I know we may have to fight our way down to the beach. Fire the first shot over their heads. If that does not frighten them, plump the others into them.”
The three boats pushed off, the doctor taking his place by the side of Horace, who was in command of one of them.
“Have you got your instruments, doctor?” Horace asked smiling.
“I have got these instruments,” Macfarlane said, tapping the butts of a heavy pair of pistols. “Just for once I am going as a combatant. I thought there was a limit to everything, but there really doesn’t seem to be any limit to the faithlessness of the Greeks. I should like very much to help to give them a little lesson as to the sanctity of an oath.”
The sailors marched in a compact body from the port to the town. They had been told the errand upon which they had come, and from the pace at which they marched, and the expression of angry determination on their faces, it was evident that they entered thoroughly into the business. They were met at the entrance to the town by Mr. Beveridge.
“It is of no use going to the British consulate,” he said; “there are no English officials there, the place is simply in charge of a Greek, who dare not, if he would, move in the matter. The Turks are taking refuge in the French, Austrian, and Dutch consulates. It is more than doubtful whether the flags will be respected. You had better place say eight men at each, with orders to defend the places till the last if the mob attacks them; while with the rest of the men you can endeavour to escort the fugitive Turks to the consulates. Don’t let the men use their arms till the last extremity, Martyn.”
“Very well, sir. Where will you be?”
“I will go to the French consulate and aid them there in pacifying the mob. My son had better go to one of the others. Harangue them from the windows, Horace; point out to them that they are disgracing Greece in the eyes of all Europe, and implore them not to bring Austria on their backs by insulting her flag. At the same time see that all the lower shutters are barred, and be ready to sally out with your men to bring in any fugitives who may approach.”
“Mr. Miller, do you take eight men to the Dutch consulate,” Martyn said, “and follow the instructions Mr. Beveridge has given to his son.”
“Zaimes shall go with you, Mr. Miller.”
“Thank you, Mr. Beveridge; if he will do the haranguing I will look after the fighting if there is any to be done.”
The three parties, each of eight men, at once started for the consulates. Martyn waited till they had gone, and then turned to the remainder. “Boatswain, you take ten men and go one way, I will go another way with the rest. You heard Mr. Beveridge’s instructions, that the men were not to use their arms unless absolutely attacked. At the same time, if you come upon any of the Greeks engaged in murdering women and children you will remember there are no orders against your using your hands, and that there are windows as well as doors by which a Greek can be made to leave a house.”
“Ay, ay, sir!” Tom Burdett replied with a grin; “we will be as gentle with them as possible.”
Martyn had provided several small Greek flags which had been fastened to boat-hooks, and each party, taking one of these, proceeded on its way. They had gone but a little distance when shrieks and cries were heard, and, bursting into the houses from which they proceeded, the sailors came upon Greeks engaged in the diabolical work of torturing women and children. With a cheer they fell upon them, striking right and left with their fists, and levelling the astonished Greeks to the ground. Then the Turks were placed safely in their midst, and with a few hearty kicks at the prostrate ruffians they marched out. The scene was repeated again and again; the punishment inflicted upon the Greeks being more and more severe each time.
When some twenty fugitives had been collected they were marched through a yelling rabble to one or other of the consulates, to which a large number of fugitives had made their way when the massacre began. Several times the leaders of both bands had to call upon their men to present arms, the mob falling back and flying the moment they did so. After a time the two bands joined, Martyn considering it imprudent to venture out among the enraged populace in smaller force. The aspect of the crowd became more and more threatening, but it still confined itself to execrations and curses, being overawed by the determined attitude of the men with their muskets, cutlasses, and pistols, and with the apparent fact that the sailors were only prevented from using their arms by the exertions of the two officers, for the doctor kept close by Martyn’s side. At two o’clock the boom of a cannon was heard from the port; again and again it sounded at regular intervals.
“That is a ship of war saluting,” Martyn said.
The crowd fell away rapidly, many of them hurrying down to the port, and Martyn, taking advantage of it, was able to bring in a good many more fugitives to the consulates, the sailors from within rushing out when they approached, and clearing the way through the crowd with the vigorous use of their elbows and sometimes of their fists.
“We shall have help up soon,” Mr. Beveridge said, the first time Martyn brought in a party of fugitives after the guns fired.
An hour later a strong party of French sailors and marines with loaded muskets and fixed bayonets marched up to the French consulate from two French vessels, a corvette and a schooner, which had come from Syra in response to the consul’s earnest appeals for assistance. They placed in their midst three hundred and twenty-five Turkish fugitives who had found refuge there, escorted them down to the port, and placed them on board their ships. On the way they were surrounded by a menacing crowd of Greek soldiers and by a great mob, yelling, shouting, and brandishing their arms; but their valour went no further, and the fugitives were taken off in safety. The sailors of the Misericordia were now divided between the Austrian and Dutch consulates, and their appearance at the windows with loaded muskets intimidated the mob from making an attack. During the night the bishop and some of the better class exerted themselves to the utmost in calming the passions of the mob; and they themselves in the morning accompanied the crew of the Misericordia, who, guarding the fugitives, were allowed to proceed down to the port and embark on board the schooner without molestation from the people. Some seven hundred and fifty persons were saved by the French and the crew of the schooner. Four hundred were massacred in cold blood by the Greeks.
The French vessels had sailed away during the night, and the question arose what was to be done with the rescued Turks. Of these there were some forty soldiers, ten or twelve Turks of superior rank, military and civil officials; the rest were women and children. Two or three of the Turks spoke Italian, and four or five of them Greek. Mr. Beveridge held a consultation with these, and it was finally agreed that they should be landed at the Isle of Tenedos close to the mouth of the Dardanelles, as from thence they would have no difficulty in making their way to Constantinople.
“If there are no ships of war in the port we will hoist the white flag and sail straight in; but if there are, we must land y............