UNDER THE RED CRESCENT. UNDER THE RED CRESCENT ADVENTURES OF AN ENGLISH SURGEON WITH THE TURKISH ARMY AT PLEVNA AND ERZEROUM, 18771878. RELATED BY CHARLES S. RYAN, M.B., CM. EDIN., IN ASSOCIATION WITH HIS FRIEND JOHN SANDES, B.A. OXON. WITH PORTRAIT AND MAPS. NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, 153-157, FIFTH AVENUE. 1897. DEDICATION. THIS RECORD OF THE STIRRING ADVENTURES OF MY EARLY YEARS I DEDICATE TO MY SON RUPERT. C. S. R, PREFACE. IN submitting to the popular verdict this book, which aims at being a plain, straightforward account of the experiences of a young Australian in the last great battles which have been fought in Europe, I feel that a few words of explanation are necessary. In the first place, it may be asked why I have allowed twenty years to elapse before giving these reminiscences to the world. I must answer that, as a hard-working surgeon leading a very busy life, I had but little " learned leisure " at my disposal ; and I must also admit that I did not feel myself equal to the literary labour of writing a book. Indeed it might never have been written if my friend Mr. Sandes had not agreed to my suggestion that he should reproduce in a literary and publishable form the language of the armchair and the fireside, and so enable me to relate to the world at large some of the incidents which my own immediate friends, when listening Vlll PREFACE. over the cigars to my recollections, have been good enough to call interesting. So much for the matter of the book, and also for its manner. In the second place, military critics as well as the general public may be inclined to wonder how it was that a young army surgeon, a mere lad in fact, should have been allowed to play such an independent part in the field operations at Plevna as is disclosed in the following pages, and should have been permitted to move about the battle-field and engage in active service, with the apparent concurrence of the general staff and of the officers commanding the different regiments. In reply, I have to explain that the Ottoman army was not guided by the hard- and-fast regulations which no doubt would render it impossible for a junior surgeon in any other European army to act on his own volition and carry on his work as he might think best him- self. Furthermore, I may mention that through my close friendship with Prince Czetwertinski, who was the captain of Osman Pasha's bodyguard, I was always kept in touch with the progress of the military operations ; and I am also proud to say that I enjoyed the confidence of Osman Pasha himself, and was on terms of the closest intimacy with that gallant and true-hearted soldier Tewfik Bey, who won the rank of pasha PREFACE. IX for his magnificent courage when he led the assault that drove Skobeleff from the Krishin redoubts. These facts may explain many of the adven- tures narrated in this book which would be inexplicable to critics accustomed to the rigid discipline under which medical officers do their work in other European armies. It is only right to say, in conclusion, that I consider myself singularly fortunate in my coadjutor, who, while he has brightened this narrative of my early adventures with all the resources of the practised writer, has nevertheless left the truth of every single incident absolutely unimpaired. At a time when the Eastern Question looms like a huge shadow over Europe, and when the very existence of the Turkish Empire is once more threatened, may I hope that this story of the military virtues of the Ottoman troops may not be found without real interest ? CHARLES S. RYAN. MELBOURNE, July, 1897. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. FROM MELBOURNE TO SOFIA. PAGE Autobiographical My Wanderjahr First Glimpse of Servians Rome A Prospective Mother-in-law Sad Result of eating Chops A Spanish Poet The Chance of a Lifetime How I seized it Garcia' s Gold Watch The Via del Poppo Off to London Engaged by the Turkish Government Vienna revisited Stamboul Origin of the Crescent Misserie's Hotel The Turkish Character A Splendid Belvedere View from the Seraskierat Tower Scutari and Florence Nightingale Stamboul by Day and Night Scene in a Bazaar Three Sundays a Week A Trip to Sweet Waters Veiled Beauties I am gazetted to a Regiment An Official Dinner Off to the Front A Compulsory Shave My Charger The March to Sofia My First Patient Pre- scription for a Malingerer Mehemet Ali My Soldier Servant Diagnosing my Cases Bulgarians at Home At Sofia MacGahan the War Correspondent Learning Turkish A Dinner in Camp Leniency to Bulgarians A Lady Patient So near and yet so far From Pirot to Nish The Wounded My First Operation . . i CHAPTER II. THE PRELIMINARIES TO THE RUSSO-TURKISH WAR. Prince Czetwertinski A Romantic Career His First Commission A Retrospect The History of a Noble Pole From Monte Carlo to Brisbane A Prince as a Deck Hand on a Schooner A Bush Tutor He returns xi Xll CONTENTS. PAGE to Europe The Load of Poverty Lighter to Bear in Australia A Big Win at Flemington School Teaching in Batavia Back to New South Wales Death at Wagga The Vale of Moravia The Hot Spring Bul- garian Blanchisseuses Slavonian Folk-songs How the Turks sing A Bulgarian Samadh Foley's End Infuriated Scavengers A Mysterious Disturbance Rough-and-tumble Fighting A Turkish Hercules Capturing a Prisoner A Solitary Ride A Bulgarian Farrier Back to Sofia Christmas in the Snow A Maize Cob for a Christmas Dinner Orkhanieh to Sofia A Doctor frozen to Death Bitter Experiences Salutary Effects of a Good Dinner -32 CHAPTER III. THE IMMINENCE OF WAR. Off to Widdin Strong Fortifications Osman Pasha in Command The Kalafatians at Work Dr. Black A Discreditable Englishman Shooting on Sight An Arrest and a Release "Life off Black" Egyptian Troops arrive Zara Dilber Effendi Osman Pasha's Ball A Memorable Function I get Plenty of Partners Military Wall-flowers The Ladies of Widdin The Dance before the Fight Three Beautiful Roumanians An Angry Grandfather Lambro Redivivus Preparing for the Campaign Some Forcible Dentistry Religion of the Turks The Wrestlers Visitors from Kalafat I pay a Return Call Across the Danube into Kalafat Dinner with the Roumanians Pumping the Guileless Stranger A Futile Effort Frank Power Nicholas Leader Edmund O' Donovan Wild Duck Shooting . . . 56 CHAPTER IV. FROM WIDDIN TO PLEVNA. Declaration of War with Russia An Ominous Silence The First Shot An Interrupted Luncheon Under Fire at last Disappearance of the Inhabitants A Move Underground Running the Gauntlet Blowing CONTENTS. Xlll PAGE up a Gunboat Our Hospital shelled Killing the Wounded Operations under Fire A Terrible Coin- cidence How a Turkish Mother died Some Marvellous Escapes Circassians on a Raiding Expedition Cattle- lifting on a Grand Scale A Long Bombardment Insignificant Losses Osman Pasha in the Batteries Rewarding a Good Shot Circassian Peccadilloes Osman Pasha's Plans He is baffled by Red Tape A Fatal Delay Good-bye to the Kyrchehir Marching out from Widdin A Picturesque Bivouac False Alarms A Forced March How the Russian Army was placed Fall of Nicopolis A Race to the Balkans Sleeping in a Tomb Pushing on to Plevna A Terrible Night Lost in the Bush Many Cases of Sunstroke Goose for Dinner I flesh my Maiden Sword A Record March We cross the Vid at last Arrival at Plevna . 88 CHAPTER V. THE FIRST BATTLE OF PLEVNA. The Town of Plevna A Natural Stronghold Le Petit Village The Gypsies' Warning Dr. Robert An Ex- patriated Bacchanalian We attend a Banquet The First Battle of Plevna An Artillery Duel Surgical Aid to the Wounded A Gunner's Death The Zacuska Arranging the Hospitals Disposition of the Turkish Line of Defence Commencement of the Battle Fight- ing on the Janik Bair Arrival of the Wounded Sufferings in the Arabas Variety in Gunshot Wounds Some Extraordinary Recoveries Turkish Fortitude Objections to Alcohol And to Amputation Berdan v. Krenke Bullets A Man shot through the Brain Rapid Cure An Erratic Rifle-ball Remarkable Example of Vitality A Missile in the Heart of a Living Man My Second Hospital A Turkish Colonel's Wound In- sufficient Beds Mangled Wretches lying on the Floor Two Russians wounded They both die The Shambles in the Mosque Our Open-air Operating Theatre Calling the Faithful to Prayer . . . . . .114 XIV CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. THE INTERVAL BETWEEN THE FIRST AND SECOND BATTLES. Sending away the Wounded Osman Effendi We perform Operations Amputating Fingers A Warning to Malingerers Trial and Execution Discipline in the Town Round the Bazaars after the Battle Some Pathetic Souvenirs The Punishment of Looters Circassian and Bulgarian A Cold-blooded Murder The Work of Fortification Out with the Burial Parties A Walk over the Battle-field Fresh Reinforcements arrive The Lovtcha Expedition Rifaat Pasha's Success My Quarters near the Hospital I have a Flitting Arrival of Olivier Pain A Pretty Bulgarian Girl Limitations of a Vocabulary Hospital Routine Soldier Nurses 142 CHAPTER VII. THE SECOND BATTLE OF PLEVNA (jULY 30). Talks with my Patients A Candid Kurd Grim Con- fessions How he killed his Enemy Dr. Robert's Cave of Refuge He loses his Dinner The Spy's Death Canards in the Town The Second Battle of Plevna I take a Hand Turkish Women as Water-carriers A Woman shot in Action My Veiled Patient Osman Pasha's Bay Cob A Sign of Hot Fighting The Attack on the Village of Grivitza Czetwertinski and his Cigarette Retreat of the Russian Infantry A Cavalry Pursuit Mustapha Bey waves his Sword I join in the Charge An Exultant Ride The Retreat sounded We retire A sauve qui eut Horrible Fears The Ride through the Maize-field Our Infantry Panic-struck Osman Pasha's Method of rallying Men A Timely Reinforcement The Day is ours Tremendous Russian Losses Russian Physique compared with Turkish Wounded Horses on the Battle-field Back in the Hospital Many Operations Osman Pasha decorated The Muchir makes a Speech I shift my Quarters CONTENTS. XV PAGE again Bulgarian Hospitality A Youthful Friend A Terrific Rainstorm The Tutchenitza runs a Banker A Ghastly Find in a Gooseberry Bush . . . .161 CHAPTER VIII. THE FIASCOS OF PELISCHAT AND LOVTCHA. A Circassian and a Pig A Call on Olivier Pain His Photographs surprise me A View of Sydney Harbour in Plevna The Story of a French Journalist A Lonely Death in the Soudan "The Butter-making Prince " Bulgarian Fleas The Expedition to Poradim Going to the Front An Ambulance at Work Capture of Russian Guns A Diabolical Circassian Attack on a Redoubt A General Retreat Wounded Men left in the Redoubt I help them to escape An Exciting Moment My Horse has to carry Double Death takes one of the Riders Battle of Pelischat The March to Lovtcha A Scrimmage in a Wheat-field Sleeping in a Wheat-stook Weinberger and I are apprehensive A Delightful Surprise Drawing a Covert Lovtcha in the Distance A Council of War An Appalling Sight Our Mutilated Comrades The Sergeant and his Cigarette A Night Alarm Ammunition Boxes blow up A Disastrous Ex- plosion Lauri and Drew Gay 189 CHAPTER IX. THE THIRD BATTLE OF PLEVNA. The Third Battle of Plevna Turkish Genius for Forti- fication How the Redoubts were built Description of an Earthwork Sleeping Underground Living Men in Holes in the Clay The Triple Tier of Fire Commence- ment of the Battle The " Mammoth Battery" Lauri and the Live Shell Radishevo on Fire The General Assault Turkish Civilians join in the Fight Attack on the Grivitza Redoubt The Brushwood Shelter takes Fire I visit the Redoubt The Sight from the Parapet A Word to Sadik Pasha I ride towards Krishin Turkish Fugitives from our Redoubt A Compliment from a Xvi CONTENTS. PAGE Civilian Panic among the Troops Fall of the Grivitza Redoubt and Capture of Two Krishin Redoubts by Skobeleff The Counter-attacks Parapets of Dead Bodies Tewfik Bey Invincible The Krishin Redoubts recaptured A Glorious Victory Delirious Excitement Russian Sortie from the Grivitza Redoubt Repulsed with Terrible Slaughter Hospital Work heavy once more Some Stoical Sufferers Russian Bravery Osman Pasha and the Wounded Departure of Drew Gay to run the Gauntlet A War Correspondent and his News Perilous Ride from Plevna 219 CHAPTER X. THE INVESTMENT OF PLEVNA. Lauri and the Sausage A Diet of " Foiled Peans " The Ways of a Parlementaire Politeness on the Battle-field Indefatigable Burrowing by the Turks Skobeleff 's Annoyance A Visit to a Redoubt Russian Artillery Practice I lose my Groom Geese, and how to get them I go out reconnoitring We have a Hot Ten Minutes Looking out for a New Horse A Grand Charger lost We retire on Netropol The Use of Artillery The Russians attack our Convoy We lose our Medical Stores A Humorous Russian Prisoner Afternoon Coffee with Sadik Pasha A Call made under Difficulties The Uninvited Guest Kronberg my Colleague He saves a Supposed Spy In my Hospital again Fearful Scenes of Suffering Wounds, Filth, and Disease Heavy Mortality Antiseptics exhausted Appearance of Gangrene My Anatolian Soldier Pyaemia Rampant 248 CHAPTER XI. THE HORRORS OF THE HOSPITAL. Some of my Hospital Cases A Death from Jaundice Small-pox and Typhoid Fever Hospital Gangrene Waiting for the Burial Parties Horrible Depression I am slightly wounded Turkish Florence Nightingales CONTENTS. XVli A Ghastly Case I am powerless for want of Stores The Men die off like Sheep Arrival of a Party of English Doctors A Welcome Visit Dr. Bond Moore and Dr. Mackellar Dr. George Stoker Sick Interview with Osman Pasha His Reception of the English Doctors Osman Pasha's Position The English Doctors indignant Osman Pasha justified A Ride to the Krishin Re- doubts The English Doctors under Fire My Reasons for leaving Plevna A Farewell Supper Mustapha Bey and the Whisky The Departure of the Wounded Good-bye to Plevna 277 CHAPTER XII. FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO ERZEROUM. Life in Constantinople Sir Collingwood Dickson Visit to the Seraskierat Roving Englishmen A Typical Adventurer War Correspondents General Berdan Colonel Valentine Baker A Picnic on the Gulf of Ismet On Board H.M.S. Achilles The Turks as Paymasters A Heavy Fee Round the Cafes Chantants An Invitation to Erzeroum Road to Plevna closed I join the Stafford House Ambulance A Farewell Banquet A Voyage in the Black Sea Trebizond In the Cradle of Humanity The Road of Xenophon's Ten Thousand Lazistan Dog and Wolf An Ancient Mining Town The Valley of Pear Trees Baiburt Cross and Crescent in Former Days A Mountain Road Genoese Ruins A Hasty Descent On the Kopdagh The Garden of Eden First Glimpse of the Euphrates Sir Arnold Kem- ball Erzeroum at Last English Doctors Mr. Zohrab Mukhtar Pasha Organizing our Hospitals Sunlight and Shadow A Presage of Trouble 303 CHAPTER XIII. A BELEAGUERED CITY. The Scourge of Typhus Pyaemia and Pneumonia Terrible Cold Outposts frozen to death Fall of Kars The March of the Wounded One Hundred and Eighty b XV111 CONTENTS. PAGE Miles over the Snow Ghastly Effects of Frostbite The Skeleton Hands Overcrowding in the Hospitals Dr. Fetherstonhaugh falls 111 A Strange Delusion "After Long Years " Edmund O'Donovan A Circassian Din- ner Party Sucking-pig d I* Irlandaise A Novel Target Departure of Mr. Zohrab We move into the Consulate Exodus to Erzinghan An Awful Sacrifice Christmas in a Besieged Town A Remarkable Plum Pudding Illness of Pinkerton Funerals in Erzeroum Casting out the Dead " The Lean Dogs beneath the Wall " An Army Surgeon's Death I fall Sick with Typhus Heroic Devotion of James Denniston Some of my Nurses How I recovered A Scientific Experiment The Brain of a Comatose Person Vachin's Discomfiture 330 CHAPTER XIV. THE SURRENDER OF ERZEROUM. Convalescence Membra Disjecta Mortality among the Medical Staff" En haut Mystere, en bas Misere " Arrival of Dr. Stoker and Dr. Stiven A Desperate Journey In the Hands of the Russians Free under the English Flag I resume Duty An Archaeological Curio Antiques for Sale An Armistice declared Appearance of the Russians The Gates thrown Open Entry of the Russian Army Our Russian Confreres The Advan- tage of knowing French A Friend in need Captain Pizareff An Impressive Review Under the Russian Eagles War or Peace ? Interview with General Meli- koff An Unpleasant Type of Consul Charming Russian Visitors I receive a Decoration Celebrating the Occasion Our Russian Guests A Series of Dinner Parties Duties of a Cossack Escort A Perilous Adven- ture The Hero of Devoi Boyun We leave the Con- sulate Fate's Irony at the Last Death of General Heymann 358 CONTENTS. XIX CHAPTER XV. THE END OF THE WAR. PAGE Helping Sick Russians A Squalid Scene Work of the Russian Doctors Melikoff's Appreciation Arrival of the Red Cross Staff A Novel Candlestick Great Explosion The Erzeroum Fire Brigade Preparations for our Departure A Practical Joke on a Persian A Pleasant Interlude The Princess at Erzeroum Mr. Zohrab's Library comes in Useful Our Spanish Widow Riding on a Pack-saddle A Slow March The Widow meets with Accidents Restricted Sleeping Accommoda- tion We turn Two Corpses out of Bed End of a Pack- horse My Cats from Van The Valley of Pear Trees Trebizond at last , .... 388 CHAPTER XVI. CONCLUSION. We fly from the Widow Arrival at Constantinople- English Philanthropy The Baroness Burdett-Coutts First Acquaintance with a well known Actress Osman Pasha back again The Turkish Skobeleff A much perforated Paletot Captain Morisot's Career A Romantic Escape On Board the Gamboge We reach Smyrna Mr. and Mrs. Zohrab A Sympathetic English- woman Zara Dilber Effendi Back in London Patriotic Ditties An Incredulous Music-hall Proprietor Non e Vero Bowling out a Story-teller . . . 414 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. CHARLES s. RYAN, M.B., C.M., EDiN Frontispiece MAP OF PLEVNA AND ITS ENVIRONS .... Facing p. 136 TREBIZOND AND ERZEROUM 348 UNDER THE RED CRESCENT. CHAPTER I. FROM MELBOURNE TO SOFIA. Autobiographical My Wanderjahr First Glimpse of Servians- Rome A Prospective Mother-in-law Sad Result of eating Chops A Spanish Poet The Chance of a Lifetime How I seized it Garcia's Gold Watch The Via del Poppo Off to London Engaged by the Turkish Government Vienna revisited Stamboul Origin of the Crescent Misserie's Hotel The Turkish Character A Splendid Belvedere View from the Seraskierat Tower Scutari and Florence Nightin- gale Stamboul by Day and Night Scene in a Bazaar Three Sundays a Week A Trip to Sweet Waters Veiled Beauties I am gazetted to a Regiment An Official Dinner Off to the Front A Compulsory Shave My Charger The March to Sofia My First Patient Prescription for a Malin- gerer Mehemet AH My Soldier Servant Diagnosing my Cases Bulgarians at Home At Sofia MacGahan the War Correspondent Learning .Turkish A Dinner in Camp Leniency to Bulgarians A Lady Patient So near and yet so far From Pirot to Nish The Wounded My First Operation. PEOPLE have often asked me how it was that I, an Australian, came to take a part in the defence of the Ottoman Empire, and to serve i ^ MELBOURNE TO SOFIA. as a military surgeon under the Red Crescent, which, as every one knows, is the Turkish equiva- lent of the Red Cross of the Geneva Convention. Red Cross and Red Crescent are alike the symbols of a humanitarian spirit, in which philo- sophers and students of ethics profess to see the small beginnings of a future age of universal peace ; but as for me, I have seen how Cossacks and Circassians fight, and I cannot help regard- ing the future prophesied by the philosopher as an impossible dream. When one has seen a soldier of a civilized force sawing off the head of a wounded but still living enemy with the edge of his sword-bayonet, it requires an unusually optimistic nature to believe in the abolition of war and a perpetual comity of nations. It was as the outcome of my Wander jahr the sweet old German custom which sends every young man roaming when he has completed the technical training of his future avocation that I first smelt powder and saw the glint of the Russian bayonets. The Wanderjahr of the German seems to be an unconscious survival of the nomadic instinct of primitive man a small concession, as it were, to the roving habits that took his ancestors the Huns and Visigoths to Rome. It lets a young man escape from the fixed atmosphere of " staying point," as our American friends call it in one locality, into the " largior aether," the wider life of travel. And 1876-7.] MY WANDERJAHR. 3 here I must be excused for introducing a little bit of necessary autobiography. I must record that, after spending three years at the Melbourne University, I went to Edinburgh to finish my medical course ; and having taken my degree there, I was launched at the age of one and twenty, as an expressive colloquialism puts it, " on my own hook." Thus it was that I began a period of wandering over Europe which ultimately landed me in my ambulance at Plevna in July, 1877. I need not dwell upon those early travels, except to say that the allowance which my father made me enabled me to go far and to see much. Like Odysseus of old, I could say that " many were the men whose manners I saw and whose cities I knew." After a run round Norway and Sweden, I spent a few months in Bohemian Paris, and then went on to Bonn, where I attended the clinic of Professor Busch, and indulged in all sorts of romantic visions under the shadow of the castled crag of Drachenfels and the Sieben Gebirge. Next I made my way down to Vienna, where the sight of some Servians in their national costume gave me my first glimpse into the romance of the proud and chivalrous peoples of the Balkan States, and fired me with a desire to see Constantinople itself. During those months at Vienna I knew my " Schb'ne Blaue Donau " well, and often made excursions as far as Pressburg and Buda- 4 FROM MELBOURNE TO SOFIA. Pesth, looking forward to the day when I could get an opportunity to follow the great water- way down to Rustchuk, and so into Turkish territory. But for the time being I got no chance, and travelled instead through Styria and Bavaria, finally turning southward, and finishing in Rome. It was about this time that I met a Spanish surgeon, Senhor Garcia C , who was con- nected incidentally with the events immediately leading up to my appointment as a surgeon to the Turkish troops. He was a delightful companion, but improvident in money matters ; and I hope he will pardon me after this lapse of years for disclosing the fact that he made me his banker, inasmuch as it reduced me to such a low financial ebb that, had it not been for his gold watch, I am afraid I should never have seen the inside of the Grivitza redoubt. I remember that he and I put up when at Rome in a very fashionable and exclusive " pension," to which I had been intro- duced by a French count whom I met in Paris. I was always regarded, perhaps on account of my name, as a good Roman Catholic ; and but for an unfortunate little contretemps I might have married into a princely Italian family there and then, and never had to eat dead horse on a campaign at all. It was this way. Among the other residents in the " pension " was an old Italian marchioness, 1876-7.] A PROSPECTIVE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 5 who had brought her two daughters to Rome to introduce them to his Holiness the Pope. She was kind enough to take a great interest in me ; and there is no knowing what might have happened the elder daughter was really a charming girl if it had not been for that unlucky incident of the mutton chops. On the second Friday that I was there an elderly Scotch lady, who was a rigid Presbyterian, and took no trouble to conceal the aversion with which she regarded all Papists, ordered mutton chops in the middle of the day for her lunch. When I came in from a visit to the Vatican I was very hungry. The chops were brought in, and they smelt very good ; so, as the Scotch lady was late, I forgot the consideration due to age and rigid Presbyterianism, I forgot my scruples as a supposed good Catholic, I forgot that it was Friday and I ate them. Next day the marchioness stuck me up in a corner, and asked me how I could disgrace myself by eating grilled chops on a Friday ; she led me to understand that I had deceived her, and she withdrew an invitation which she had given me to visit her and renew my acquaintance with her charming daughter. Thus ended my first and last chance of a dukedom. After a few weeks in Rome, I began to get seriously embarrassed from a financial point of view. Garcia was a charming fellow ; but he 6 FROM MELBOURNE TO SOFIA. was a poet, and, like all poets, he had expensive habits. He even challenged me to a duel once for laughing at some of his verses ; but when I threatened to kick him, he fell on my neck and embraced me. However, my purse was not long enough to sustain the two of us, and I was sitting in a little cafe" one day considering the position and glancing idly over the Times, when my eye fell on an advertisement announcing that the Turkish Government had vacancies for twenty military surgeons, and inviting applications. I read the advertisement again with delight, and at once determined to send in an application. Here was a chance of seeing life with a vengeance. But my spirits fell at once. I had only a few liras in my pocket ; and how on earth was I to get to the Turkish Embassy in London ? C was in his usual poetic condition of impecuniosity, and I was afraid to think how much he owed me. But I could not afford to be chivalrous, or I might lose the opportunity of a lifetime ; so I tackled him at once. He assured me with tears in his eyes that he had not even the price of a flask of Chianti in his pockets ; but I was inexorable. I pointed out to him that he had a very fine gold watch, it was really a remarkably valuable time- piece, and had come down to him as an heirloom from some haughty old Castilian grandee. I impressed upon him that a gold watch is a most unsuitable adornment to a penniless person, who 1876-7.] THE VIA DEL POPPO. 7 is moreover in debt, and I indicated to him a means by which it could be converted into currency of the realm. I think he felt it very much, poor fellow ; but it was not a time for being over-scrupulous, and the heirloom of the Hidalgo of old Castile was duly deposited with the Roman equivalent for "my uncle" in a small and stuffy establishment situated in a narrow street with the suggestive name of the Via del Poppo. In return we received twenty-five napoleons it was certainly an extremely handsome watch. Garcia gave me enough to take me to Neuchatel, where I counted on receiving fresh supplies, and I let him keep the balance. So I left my Spaniard with a flask of wine before him in the city of the Caesars, and I never saw him again. Peace be to his soul! He was intended by nature for an Irishman. I wanted to go through to Neuchatel ; but when I got to Turin, there was a fresh difficulty to be overcome. The Po had overflowed its banks, and the railway was washed away, so that there was no possibility of continuing the journey until next morning. I had not enough money to go to a hotel, so I walked about the streets of Turin all night. Shakespeare has something to say about people who wallow naked in December snow By thinking on fantastic summer's heat. And as I wandered through the cold, dark 8 FROM MELBOURNE TO SOFIA. streets of Turin, I warmed myself by imagination in the sunbeams that played on the gilded pin- nacles of the Seraglio and the marble towers of St. Sophia in far away Stamboul. At Neuchatel I found supplies awaiting me at the post office, and I hurried across to London at once, where I sought out the late Mr. J. E. Francis, of Melbourne, who was an old friend of my father, and asked his advice about going to Constantinople. " Go by all means, my dear boy," was his cheery reply ; " and I will tell your father that I advised you to take the chance." I had excellent credentials from my professors in Edinburgh ; and armed with a letter of intro- duction to Dr. Forbes, who was the doctor to the Turkish Embassy, I presented myself at the embassy, and sought an interview with Musurus Pasha, then the Turkish ambassador in London. The ambassador was engaged ; but I had an audience with one of his sons, and two days after- wards I was en route for Constantinople, with ,25 for expenses in my pocket, and an agree- ment with the Turkish Government to perform the duties of a military surgeon at a salary of ^200 a year, paid monthly in gold. They gave me a letter to the Seraskierat, or War Office, at Constantinople, and instructed me to report my- self there for duty forthwith. Among the other nineteen selected applicants were two whom I knew, one named Geoffrey, and a fellow named 1876-7.] VIENNA REVISITED. 9 Stephenson, who had been at Edinburgh with me. Naturally I was in high spirits at my success ; and when I reached Vienna and looked up all my old pals, we had a great day on the Danube on the occasion of the first regatta held there, and finished up with fireworks and other jollifications in the evening. After a couple of days at Vienna, we went through Buda-Pesth and Belgrade to Bazias, where we took steamer and voyaged down the Danube to Rustchuk. What a magnificent trip it was ! I knew the Rhine pretty well while I was at Bonn : I re- membered the great stream that tumbled over the falls of Schaffhausen beyond Mainz, swept along past St. Goar and Bingen, the home of that soldier of the legion who lay dying in Algiers, down to Coblenz, where Marceau fell, and Ehrenbreitstein, the great fortress that now no longer frowns threateningly out towards France. I remembered the castles perched high on the beetling cliffs, and how strange the setting sun used to look when seen through their deserted windows. I recalled the haunted spot where the Loreley used to sing, and the towering heights of the Drachenfels, where the hills finally ceased, leaving the river to broaden out and flow more sluggishly between the low-lying banks down to Bonn and to Cologne, and thence away to- wards the misty flats and the grey distances of Holland. But to my excited fancy, fired as I 10 FROM MELBOURNE TO SOFIA. was by the prospect of being brought under the spell and the glamour of Islam and of serving under the Mussulman flag, the recollection of the fairy-like beauty of the Rhine faded before the dark grandeur of the river that was bearing me farther with every revolution of the paddle-wheels from European associations, and nearer to strange, new experiences among the subjects of the Shadow of God. At times we steamed through fairly open reaches, and at times through seething rapids, with the dark water swirling about the bows, and the still darker cliffs rising till they almost seemed to touch over our heads. It was a two days' voyage down to Rustchuk ; and I shall never forget my sensations when I caught my first glimpse of Turkish troops on one of the islands in the middle of the stream. Among my fellow passengers was a Mr. Jeune (now Sir Francis Jeune). He had been out in Australia as counsel in the Tichborne case, and had met my father. When he heard that I came from Australia, he took an interest in me, and I found in him a sympathetic listener as I confided my ambitions to him. Among the others on board with me were Captain the Honourable Randolph Stewart, a Queen's Messenger going down with despatches to Constantinople, and several of my professional brethren, including Dr. George Stoker, brother of Bram Stoker, Sir Henry Irving's manager, Dr. Simon Eccles, 1876-7.] STAMBOUL. I I a well known London physician, and a Dr. Butler, an eccentric old fellow who had been in the Crimea. There were a number of pretty Roumanian women on board too, and altogether we had a jolly party. At Rustchuk we took the train for Varna, the seaport on the Black Sea which was our point of embarkation for Constantinople ; and here I remember old Dr. Butler lost his ticket, and the Queen's Messenger had to use all his influence to prevent an angry little Turkish station-master from " running him in." At last, however, we were all safely on board an Austrian Lloyd's steamer for the last stage of our journey, a short voyage of twelve hours ; and I got my first insight into polygamous Turkey by dis- covering an aged Turk who came on board with his harem, a huddling little band of beauties veiled to the eyes, who were housed in a sort of canvas tent on deck, and at whose faces I made several unsuccessful attempts to get a peep. Next morning we saw Stamboul rising out of the Bosphorus, and my dreams were at last ful- filled. Fresh, as one might say, from Melbourne, which forty years before was a camping-ground for blacks, I saw before me in this gorgeous vision of mosques and minarets, dark green cypress groves, towers of gleaming marble, and gilded pinnacles of the far Seraglio, a city of unknown antiquity. The story goes that, more than three 12 FROM MELBOURNE TO SOFIA. hundred years before the Christian era, the Athenians, inspired by the burning eloquence of Demosthenes, fought to defend it against Philip of Macedon. One dark night, so the veracious historians of that period tell us, the Macedonians were on the point of carrying the city by assault, when a shining crescent appeared in the sky, disclosed the creeping forms of the enemy, and enabled the beleaguered forces to repel the attack with such vigour that the Macedonians raised the siege and retired. Such was the origin of the crescent which figures on old Byzantine coins, and when the Osmanlis captured Constantinople they adopted it as their national device. It is a pretty story, and well " si non e vero e ben trovato." I saw before me a city which had already been besieged twenty-four times since its foundation and captured six times. Among others, Persians, Spartans, Athenians, Romans, Avars, Arabs, Russians, Crusaders, and Greeks had besieged it before it fell at last under the terrific assault of the forces of Mahomed II. in 1453. I landed at Galata, the port of Pera, which is separated from Stamboul proper by the Golden Horn, and went straight up to Misserie's Hotel, which is to Constantinople what Shep- heard's Hotel is to Cairo, one of the famous hostelries of the world. Next day we reported ourselves at the War Office. We were shown into a room where four 1877]. I RECEIVE MY COMMISSION. 13 or five old pashas were sitting cross-legged on divans, and we handed in our credentials. We presented our respects through the medium of an interpreter, and I was told to leave my address and hold myself in readiness for active service at once in the Servian war, which had then been going on for about six weeks. I was no longer a civilian. I was now commis- sioned as a military surgeon in the service of the Sublime Porte, and engaged in a practice which in- cluded some three hundred thousand patients more or less, of whose language I was entirely ignorant, and of whose manners all previous impressions had taught me to be suspicious. It is right to say here, at the outset, that my experience of over two years among the Turks proved to me that the estimate formed of their character by other reputedly more civilized nations was entirely false and misleading. That there was a large amount of corruption in the officialdom of Turkey at that time was no doubt true ; but the real samples of national character, the men in the rank and file of the army, I found to be simple- minded, courteous, honourable, and honest in time of peace, while braver men on the battle-field than those who fought under Osman Pasha at Plevna are not to be found in Europe. The magnificent physique and robust constitution of the ordinary Turkish private soldiers I believe to be due mainly to two causes. In the first place they never 14 FROM MELBOURNE TO SOFIA. touch alcohol, and in the second the traditions of Turkish social life and the rigid guardianship exercised over Turkish women have effectually kept out the scrofulous taint which has so appreciably affected the populations of other European nationalities. Having been gazetted at once as an army surgeon with the rank of colghassi, or major, which entitled me, among other privileges, to draw rations for four men, I left the luxuries of Misserie's Hotel behind me, and installed myself in the barracks close to the War Office, with a determination to see as much as possible of Stamboul before we were ordered to the front. There are few cities in the world where night- fall makes such a difference as in Stamboul. By day the surroundings of the city as well as the city itself make up a kind of earthly paradise. I climbed the tower of the Seraskierat, and gazed with astonishment at the panorama which lay before me. I saw two seas, the Black Sea and the Sea of Marmora ; two straits, the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles ; two gulfs, the Gulf of Ismet and the Gulf of Nicodema. At my feet lay twenty different cities, the houses of which, painted with the true Oriental love of bright colours, nestled against a background of hills clothed with patches of dark cypress and tall, spiry pines. Before me was the spot where two continents meet ; and as my eye passed from the is/?-] STAMBOUL BY DAY AND BY NIGHT. 15 streets of Stamboul in Europe to Scutari lying yonder across the mouth of the Bosphorus in Asia, I realized how the tide of Eastern thought had swept across the waters of this narrow strait, and left its mark indelibly upon the strange people among whom I had come to take the chances of the battle-field. I knew too that across there in Scutari was the burial-ground where the bones of those English officers and men who died in hospital after the Crimea lay buried, and I felt that with the brave dead of my own race so near me I was in good company. The old mili- tary hospital at Scutari has been turned into barracks now ; but the room which Miss Florence Nightingale occupied while she was performing her mission of mercy to the wounded there is still preserved untouched, while her name is kept in affectionate remembrance by the sons of many whom she nursed back to life, or whose last hours she soothed with womanly ministering. As I looked out upon the landscape, I saw it set in the clear atmosphere of Southern Europe, so that every separate minaret stood sharply out and the marble domes of St. Sophia glistened in the bright sunlight. All is warmth and colour, life and brightness, in Stamboul by day. By night, however, the difference is appalling. The streets were never lighted, and people were not supposed to be out after nine o'clock. If one went out at all, one 1 6 FROM MELBOURNE TO SOFIA. went at one's own risk, and took the chance of attack by any of the thousands of stray dogs that prowl at will about the city and camp un- disturbed in the streets. To one who had been accustomed to Paris and Vienna, where it is never night in this sense, where gas and arc lamps form an admirable substitute for sunlight, and where the patter of feet on the trottoirs and the hum of human life in the caf