Chapter Five.A Step in Rank.Whether or not honest kind-hearted old Joe Sweetman was a donkey was yet to be proved, as the reader will ascertain for himself if he will only have patience to bear with the narrative till the end; but certain it was that Joe and Tony were not alone in thinking well of Phil.“He’s a likely youngster,” the adjutant had more than once remarked to the colonel, “and he’ll make an excellent N.C.O. once he has sufficient service. He’s well educated, and always well-behaved, and with your permission, Colonel, I will give him a trial in the orderly-room.”“Do just as you like,” the latter had answered. “I leave these matters in your hands; only, if you make him a clerk, do not take him altogether from his other duties. He might lose his smartness in the ranks, and what I want is not alone N.C.O.’s who can write well, but men who can be an example to the others, and, above all, have authority over them. Keep your eye on the lad, and let me know how he gets on.”“Certainly, sir. I’ll see how he performs his duties, and mention the subject to you another day.”Phil had thus already attracted attention, and a hint to that effect, passed from the sergeant-major through the colour-sergeant to himself, encouraged him to persevere in his drill. Not long afterwards the battalion received orders to proceed to Windsor, and there relieve another of the Guards regiments. By that time Phil and Tony had completed their recruits’ course, and had taken their places in a company of the regiment.“We couldn’t ha’ been luckier, Phil, could we?” remarked Tony, with a grunt of satisfaction, as the two stood on the parade-ground waiting for the bugle to sound the “Fall in”. “I said weeks back as I’d stick to yer through thick and thin, and here we are, yer see, both in the same company, and always falling-in alongside of one another. But it won’t last long, mate, and don’t you go for to try and make believe it will. I ain’t so blind as I can’t see that before long you’ll wear a corporal’s stripes. All the fellers says the same, and it’s bound to be true.”“I must say I hope it will,” Phil replied cheerfully. “It is my aim and object to become an N.C.O. But we needn’t think of parting, Tony. We’ll still be in the same company, and if we don’t stand side by side, we shall be close together in the barrack-room. Besides, you may get the stripes sooner than I.”“Me, mate? That’s a good un! There ain’t a chance.”“You never know, Tony; and although it seems far away now, it will come, especially if you always keep out of trouble, as you have done up to this.”“Yus, it might,” Tony agreed, after a long pause. “Every chap gets a chance, they say, and I’ll see if I can’t win them stripes just to show yer, Phil, that I’ve stuck to me oath. And it won’t be getting into trouble as will lose ’em for me. I used to be a regular wild un, but I’ve given that up months ago; besides, I heerd Sergeant Irving a-saying only a few days ago that the chap as was quiet was bound to get on. ‘What’s the good of larking about as some of these idjuts do?’ he says. ‘Them as drinks is certain to get into trouble, and come before the colonel, and what good does it do ’em? They loses their chance of promotion, and they ruins their health. Besides that, they goes down the quickest when the troops is on active service.’”“Yes, that is very true, I believe,” Phil answered. “But to return to the stripes. You must win them, Tony, and if only you stick to your work I am sure you will succeed. Then in the course of time you’ll be made sergeant, and later perhaps become sergeant-major. What a fine thing it would be! You would have a good pension to look forward to, and one of these days could end your service while still a young man, but with the comfortable feeling that you were provided for for life.”“Hum! that’s flying away to the skies, mate,” Tony chuckled, “but there’s plenty of time to see, and—look up! there goes the bugle.”Both lads fell in with their company, now dressed in all the pride of bearskins and whitened belts and pouches, and having been duly inspected, marched stiffly erect out through the barrack-gate, up Sheet Street, and into the famous old castle.Many a time did Phil stand motionless by his sentry-box, looking over the terrace-wall at a scene not to be surpassed in any other quarter of Her Majesty’s wide dominions—the green fields of Berkshire, with old Father Thames winding hither and thither amongst them, now flowing placidly along between banks of shimmering corn and grass, and anon swirling past with a splash and a gurgle which broke up the reflections of boats and houses brightly mirrored on its surface. Then, sloping his gun, he would march across in front of the terrace gardens and the windows of the royal apartments, and, turning his eyes in the opposite direction, admire the three miles of absolutely straight and undulating road, lined on either side by its double row of grand old oaks and beeches, and ending in a green knoll, surmounted by a pile of masonry, on which is set a large equestrian statue familiarly known as “the Copper Horse”. Away on either side the wide stretches of the park would attract his attention, while far beyond the town, appeared the faint blue and reddish band which marks the position of Windsor Forest.Many times, too, whilst on sentry-go, did he stand as rigid as his own ramrod, heels close together, and gun at the “present”, as the Queen and the Prince Consort with their children sauntered by. He had even exchanged words with them, for, attracted by his height, and possibly persuaded by the pleading of the infant princes, the Prince had stopped in front of our hero and questioned him as to his age and his parentage. The remarkable manner in which he had been adopted appealed to their curiosity, and before long they had learned Phil’s story.When not for guard, Phil and Tony generally managed to find plenty of occupation in their spare hours. In the winter there were long walks to be taken, and in the summer there was the river, a never-failing source of enjoyment, and in those days far less crowded than in this twentieth century, when excursion trains, bicycles, and tooting steam-launches have done not a little to mar its pleasant peacefulness. Hard by the Brocas boats could be obtained, and here a number of soldiers were to be found every afternoon, idling by the river-side and gazing at the youth of Eton disporting on the water, or themselves seated in boats sculling up and down the stream.Phil and Tony were occupied in this way one hot summer afternoon, and having sculled up to the Clewer reach, rowed in to the bank, and made fast there for a while.“It’s mighty hot, young un, ain’t it?” remarked Tony, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. “Phew! it is hot! Why, if we was bound to row these boats, we’d hate the sight of the river. What do yer say to a snooze?”“Just the thing, Tony. It’s too hot for any kind of exercise, so let’s tie up and wait an hour; then we can pull up to the lock and down again. It’ll be time for tea then.”Accordingly the two laid in their paddles, and stretching themselves on the bottom of the boat beneath the shade of an overhanging tree, soon fell asleep, lulled by the gentle ripple of the water. An hour passed, and still they slumbered placidly, the wash of a big boat as it slipped by them failed to rouse them. They heard nothing, and even the hoarse chuckles of a few comrades on the bank above them did not disturb them.“What say, Jim? Shall we let ’em go?” grinned one.“Yes, send ’em along, Tom. It’ll be a proper joke to watch ’em when they wakes up and looks about ’em,” was the answer. “Now, shake off that rope, and pitch it into the boat. So—oh! Gently, man! Shove ’em off as quiet as if they was babies in a cradle.”It was a huge joke to those upon the bank, but upon the unconscious occupants of the craft it was wasted. They stirred neither hand nor eyelid, but, locked firmly in the arms of Morpheus, glided down the river, totally unmindful of the shouts which followed them and of the angry “Boat ahead! Where are you coming to? Steer to the left!” which was hurled at them on more than one occasion. Suddenly a louder shout awoke Phil, and, sitting up with a start, he stared around, his eyes wide-open with astonishment, to find that he and Tony were drifting in midstream past the Brocas, and were already within 50 feet of the bridge.“Why, we’re adrift!” he exclaimed in a bewildered tone. “Here, Tony, wake up or we shall be on the bridge!”“Eh, what!” grunted Tony, rubbing his eyes. “Adrift! What’s that row about?”The shout which had aroused Phil was repeated at that moment and, taken up immediately, assumed a perfect roar, in the intervals of which a loud clattering as of wheels rapidly passing over cobble stones, and the stamp of horses’ hoofs were heard.“Sounds like a cart or something coming down the street,” said Phil. “Look out, Tony, something’s wrong!”As Phil spoke the clatter of hoofs and wheels became deafening, and before either could realise what was happening, two maddened horses dashed on to the bridge, dragging a carriage after them in which a gentleman was seated. On the back of one of the beasts was a postilion, and before Phil had time to exclaim, “It’s a royal carriage!” the vehicle had collided with a cart coming in the opposite direction, there was a crash and a sound of breaking woodwork, and next second rider and passenger were shot as if from a catapult over the low rail of the bridge into the water.“Quick! get your paddle out!” cried Phil, snatching one up and plunging it into the water.Tony, now fully awake, sprang up and hastily obeyed, but with such vigour that he swung the boat round till it lay across the stream. Next moment, driven by the swirl of the water, it was hurled against a support of the bridge and capsized immediately.When Phil rose to the surface a few seconds later, and had shaken the water from his eyes, he saw the boat shooting bottom-uppermost through the archway of the bridge, with Tony clinging to it. The stream had already swept him through, and just in front of him, splashing helplessly, was the unfortunate postilion, his eyes glaring round in search of help, and his mouth wide-open as he shouted to the people on the bank.“All right! I’ll be with you in a moment,” cried Phil, striking out in his direction. A minute later he was by his side, and, grasping him by the shoulder, supported him till the overturned boat floated past them.Both clutched it, and hung on for their lives.“There he is, there’s the other!” shouted a crowd of people on the bridge, and, hearing them, Phil hoisted himself as high as possible and searched the water carefully. There was a swirl some fifteen feet away, and two clutching hands suddenly appeared, to be swallowed up an instant later.Leaving the boat Phil struck out with all his might, to find nothing when he reached the spot; but, plunging beneath the surface, he let the stream sweep him on, and groped with outstretched hands on either side. Something touched his fingers, and, grasping it he pulled it to him; holding tightly with both hands he kicked frantically till his head appeared above the water. Another second and the head of the unconscious passenger was reclining on his shoulder, and a burst of hearty cheering was ringing in his ears. Breathless and exhausted after the struggle, Phil looked round and caught sight of the boat drifting down to him. Treading water for a few minutes he supported the figure in his arms, and at last reached out for and obtained a firm hold of the keel, to which he clung, unable to make another effort, so much was he fatigued.But help was at hand. A boat had been hastily pushed off from the river-bank, and before long all four had been lifted from the water and carried up the steps on to terra firma. A doctor was hastily summoned, and meanwhile the gentleman and the postilion were removed to a cottage.As for Phil, five minutes’ rest upon the ground made him feel himself again. Then, shaking the water from him, and bashfully exchanging handshakes with the enthusiastic crowd who surrounded him, and would not be denied, he slipped away with Tony, and, aided by a waterman, righted the capsized boat and proceeded to bail the water out.“Come along, let’s get out of this, Tony!” he exclaimed fretfully. “I never came across such a bother, and I hate a fuss like this.”“But you’ll stop and give yer name, Phil? They’re certain to want it, ’specially as the cove has summat to do with the castle.”“Oh, they can find out later on! Come along and let’s get away,” repeated Phil, in far more terror now than he had been when the boat upset.“Wait a minute, my men,” suddenly sang out a voice from the bank. “I want to find out who you are.”Phil reluctantly helped to push the boat alongside, while a gentleman who he knew had some connection with the castle pushed his way to the front of the crowd and, coming down the steps, held his hand out towards him.“Shake hands, my brave young fellow,” he said earnestly. “I never saw a more gallant deed, and you can have every cause for satisfaction, for you have saved the life of one of our Queen’s most honoured guests. What is your name?”“Private Western, sir,” answered Phil with flushed cheeks. “Private Phil Western, Number 1760.”“Then, Western, you can expect to hear from me again. You are a credit to your regiment, and your officers and all your comrades shall know what a fine lad you are. Now, I will not detain you. You had better get off and change your clothes.”“Three cheers for the sodger boy!” a voice in the crowd shouted; and these were given with a gusto which made Phil’s heart flutter, while Tony stood upright in the boat, looking more pleased and proud than he had ever done before.“Shove off!” cried Phil almost angrily. “Shove off, or we shall never get away.” A minute later they were pulling up-stream once more.“I don’t mind guessing them stripes is yours,” chuckled Tony over his shoulder. “Young un, I knewed you’d have ’em soon, but you’ve won ’em now, and no one ought to feel prouder of them than you. Mate, Tony Jenkins is more pleased than if he’d got ’em hisself, and he feels just like a blessed peacock.”Phil made no reply, for he was still confused after his adventure, but for all that the thought that now there was some possibility of promotion elated him. If from this day he was to be known as Corporal Western he determined that he would do credit to that rank, and make use of it as a stepping-stone to a higher one. He wondered what the colonel would say, and was in the middle of imagining himself being thanked by that officer in the orderly-room when the boat banged against the bank.“Come along, mate,” cried Tony. “We’ll get along to barracks and change these wet togs.”Squeezing the water from their garments they left the boat in charge of its owner, and made the best of their way to the barracks, where they were not long in getting into dry clothing.Already a rumour had reached the soldiers, and soon both were surrounded by an eager crush.“What’s happened? What have you two chaps been up to?” they asked.“Oh, an upset in the river, that’s all!” said Phil nervously. “Here, ask Tony, he knows all about it;” and having transferred their attentions from himself he slipped away, while Tony, seated comfortably on the end of a bed, calmly filled and lighted his pipe, and, puffing big clouds into the air, dilated upon the gallant deed performed by his chum.“He’s a good plucked un, you chaps, as I has good cause to know,” he concluded. “Once he saved me from a bear as was near tearing me to pieces, and now he’s fished a gent out of the river that’s staying along with the Queen. He’s made, is Phil Western, and’ll get his stripes. What’s more, I’ll tell yer now, so as there won’t be no mistakes. When the young un’s corporal, we’ll all treat him as such. Any chap as doesn’t ’ll have to square it up with me. So now yer know what to expect.”With this final shot Tony pulled hard at his pipe and went off to find his friend.Phil had won his stripes without a doubt, but he had yet to go through the ordeal of receiving them.The very next day his name was down for commanding officer’s orders, and when he marched into the orderly-room, and stood to attention in front of the green baize table, there was the colonel looking kindly at him, while a row of officers, no less interested in the young soldier who had behaved so gallantly, stood on either side.“Western, my lad, it is reported to me that you saved two lives from drowning yesterday,” said the colonel. “I have made enquiries about it and find that you behaved nobly, and have been a credit to this regiment. I may tell you that your name has already been mentioned as deserving of promotion, and there is no doubt but that you would have received your stripes ere long. But now you may feel doubly proud of them, for you have gained them by an act of bravery, which is seldom the case unless on active service. From this date you are a full corporal. Now, my lad, get your stripes put on, for we shall want to see them on parade.”Motionless, looking straight to his front, Phil listened as if in a dream. Then he blurted out, “Thank you, sir!” and a second later was obeying the order, “Right turn! Quick march!”Outside, by order of the colonel, the tailor was waiting for him, and within a quarter of an hour Phil was the proud possessor of two stripes on his right arm, the badge of a full corporal.“There you are, corporal,” said the tailor. “They’re fixed on strong, and I hope they’ll never want to be taken off. Stick to ’em, and when the time comes I’ll sew on another with all me heart. Now you’d better look lively. The ‘fall in’ goes in a few minutes, and I hear there’s something else for you to listen to.”“Something else? Why, what?” asked Phil.“Well, some message came down from the castle, that’s all I know of, but they’re rigging up the platform on the square, so it looks like some show or other.”Phil groaned dismally, and went to his barrack-room to smarten himself up, hoping that this new “show” could have nothing to do with himself.But he was disappointed. The whole battalion fell in, carrying the colours, and having been duly formed up in review order and inspected, they stood at ease, wondering what was coming, and looking with curious eyes at the group of privileged sightseers who had already assembled, and at the red-carpeted platform which had been placed on the opposite side of the square.Suddenly a movement was noticed amidst the crowd outside the gates; they opened up, and a minute later two royal carriages swept in past the guard-room.All eyes were turned towards them, till a hoarse “Battalion, attention. Royal salute. Present arms!” was given by the colonel, and as one man the regiment went through the movement, colours and officers’ swords dropped simultaneously, and a royal personage, dressed in full uniform, was driven up to the centre, where, the carriage having stopped, he descended, and returned the salute.Then followed a minute inspection, during which Phil’s heart beat tumultuously against his ribs. Afterwards, with colours in air and the band playing, the regiment marched past in column—a sight worth going many miles to see—and finally drew up in quarter column and faced inwards towards the platform.“Corporal Western!” the colonel cried.Phil started and flushed crimson. Then, recovering his composure, he stepped from the ranks, and, marching forward, halted a few paces in front of the platform.“Officers, non-commissioned officers, and men,” commenced the royal personage who had reviewed them, stepping forward, “it has given me great pleasure to come here to-day and witness the fine way in which you have marched, and the smart, soldierly appearance you present. You have fully upheld the traditions of the regiment to which you belong. I have now another pleasant duty. One of your number performed a gallant act yesterday. He was then a private, and is now a corporal. He has won his promotion by bravery, as every soldier desires to do, and as a mark of the Queen’s gratitude for saving the life of a distinguished guest, and in order that he may never forget this day, I now present Corporal Western with this watch and chain, and I feel sure he will always prize it. It comes from his Queen. May it one day be carried in the fob of an officer!”Bewildered, and scarcely knowing whether he stood on his head or his heels, Phil took the watch handed to him and returned to the ranks. In a dream he heard the regiment answer the colonel’s call for cheers as the royal officer stepped into his carriage, and in the same condition he stood, whilst his comrades tore off their bearskins, and, hoisting them on their bayonets, shouted cheers at him for his gallantry.It was a bad half-hour for Phil, but, like all things, it came to an end. Soon he was back in the barrack-room, with friends crushing round and eagerly gazing at the gold watch and chain presented to him.What Phil valued most was the crown set with brilliants on the back, and the inscription beneath, which ran:“Presented to Corporal Philip Western, of the Grenadier Guards,In recognition of his gallantry,By Victoria R.”Many and many a time did Phil pull out the watch and gaze at that inscription, and often too did he determine that one day it should lie in the waistcoat pocket of an officer.“It’s my first step in the regiment,” he said quietly to Tony, when talking over his promotion, “and I hope it will not be the last.”“Never fear, young un! You’ll get higher yet, I know,” Tony replied earnestly. “In these days of peace it will take a time, no doubt; but if there’s war, as seems likely, then you’ll go up, and I don’t mind telling yer it’s my opinion you’ll be an officer yet afore I gets my stripes.”“Humbug, Tony! It takes years and years to get a commission, even when on active service. But I mean to have a good try for it, and should troubles come with some foreign power, then, as you say, there is all the more chance of my being successful. Now I am off to the quarter-master to ask him to put this in his safe and keep it for me. I wouldn’t lose it for worlds.”
Whether or not honest kind-hearted old Joe Sweetman was a donkey was yet to be proved, as the reader will ascertain for himself if he will only have patience to bear with the narrative till the end; but certain it was that Joe and Tony were not alone in thinking well of Phil.
“He’s a likely youngster,” the adjutant had more than once remarked to the colonel, “and he’ll make an excellent N.C.O. once he has sufficient service. He’s well educated, and always well-behaved, and with your permission, Colonel, I will give him a trial in the orderly-room.”
“Do just as you like,” the latter had answered. “I leave these matters in your hands; only, if you make him a clerk, do not take him altogether from his other duties. He might lose his smartness in the ranks, and what I want is not alone N.C.O.’s who can write well, but men who can be an example to the others, and, above all, have authority over them. Keep your eye on the lad, and let me know how he gets on.”
“Certainly, sir. I’ll see how he performs his duties, and mention the subject to you another day.”
Phil had thus already attracted attention, and a hint to that effect, passed from the sergeant-major through the colour-sergeant to himself, encouraged him to persevere in his drill. Not long afterwards the battalion received orders to proceed to Windsor, and there relieve another of the Guards regiments. By that time Phil and Tony had completed their recruits’ course, and had taken their places in a company of the regiment.
“We couldn’t ha’ been luckier, Phil, could we?” remarked Tony, with a grunt of satisfaction, as the two stood on the parade-ground waiting for the bugle to sound the “Fall in”. “I said weeks back as I’d stick to yer through thick and thin, and here we are, yer see, both in the same company, and always falling-in alongside of one another. But it won’t last long, mate, and don’t you go for to try and make believe it will. I ain’t so blind as I can’t see that before long you’ll wear a corporal’s stripes. All the fellers says the same, and it’s bound to be true.”
“I must say I hope it will,” Phil replied cheerfully. “It is my aim and object to become an N.C.O. But we needn’t think of parting, Tony. We’ll still be in the same company, and if we don’t stand side by side, we shall be close together in the barrack-room. Besides, you may get the stripes sooner than I.”
“Me, mate? That’s a good un! There ain’t a chance.”
“You never know, Tony; and although it seems far away now, it will come, especially if you always keep out of trouble, as you have done up to this.”
“Yus, it might,” Tony agreed, after a long pause. “Every chap gets a chance, they say, and I’ll see if I can’t win them stripes just to show yer, Phil, that I’ve stuck to me oath. And it won’t be getting into trouble as will lose ’em for me. I used to be a regular wild un, but I’ve given that up months ago; besides, I heerd Sergeant Irving a-saying only a few days ago that the chap as was quiet was bound to get on. ‘What’s the good of larking about as some of these idjuts do?’ he says. ‘Them as drinks is certain to get into trouble, and come before the colonel, and what good does it do ’em? They loses their chance of promotion, and they ruins their health. Besides that, they goes down the quickest when the troops is on active service.’”
“Yes, that is very true, I believe,” Phil answered. “But to return to the stripes. You must win them, Tony, and if only you stick to your work I am sure you will succeed. Then in the course of time you’ll be made sergeant, and later perhaps become sergeant-major. What a fine thing it would be! You would have a good pension to look forward to, and one of these days could end your service while still a young man, but with the comfortable feeling that you were provided for for life.”
“Hum! that’s flying away to the skies, mate,” Tony chuckled, “but there’s plenty of time to see, and—look up! there goes the bugle.”
Both lads fell in with their company, now dressed in all the pride of bearskins and whitened belts and pouches, and having been duly inspected, marched stiffly erect out through the barrack-gate, up Sheet Street, and into the famous old castle.
Many a time did Phil stand motionless by his sentry-box, looking over the terrace-wall at a scene not to be surpassed in any other quarter of Her Majesty’s wide dominions—the green fields of Berkshire, with old Father Thames winding hither and thither amongst them, now flowing placidly along between banks of shimmering corn and grass, and anon swirling past with a splash and a gurgle which broke up the reflections of boats and houses brightly mirrored on its surface. Then, sloping his gun, he would march across in front of the terrace gardens and the windows of the royal apartments, and, turning his eyes in the opposite direction, admire the three miles of absolutely straight and undulating road, lined on either side by its double row of grand old oaks and beeches, and ending in a green knoll, surmounted by a pile of masonry, on which is set a large equestrian statue familiarly known as “the Copper Horse”. Away on either side the wide stretches of the park would attract his attention, while far beyond the town, appeared the faint blue and reddish band which marks the position of Windsor Forest.
Many times, too, whilst on sentry-go, did he stand as rigid as his own ramrod, heels close together, and gun at the “present”, as the Queen and the Prince Consort with their children sauntered by. He had even exchanged words with them, for, attracted by his height, and possibly persuaded by the pleading of the infant princes, the Prince had stopped in front of our hero and questioned him as to his age and his parentage. The remarkable manner in which he had been adopted appealed to their curiosity, and before long they had learned Phil’s story.
When not for guard, Phil and Tony generally managed to find plenty of occupation in their spare hours. In the winter there were long walks to be taken, and in the summer there was the river, a never-failing source of enjoyment, and in those days far less crowded than in this twentieth century, when excursion trains, bicycles, and tooting steam-launches have done not a little to mar its pleasant peacefulness. Hard by the Brocas boats could be obtained, and here a number of soldiers were to be found every afternoon, idling by the river-side and gazing at the youth of Eton disporting on the water, or themselves seated in boats sculling up and down the stream.
Phil and Tony were occupied in this way one hot summer afternoon, and having sculled up to the Clewer reach, rowed in to the bank, and made fast there for a while.
“It’s mighty hot, young un, ain’t it?” remarked Tony, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. “Phew! it is hot! Why, if we was bound to row these boats, we’d hate the sight of the river. What do yer say to a snooze?”
“Just the thing, Tony. It’s too hot for any kind of exercise, so let’s tie up and wait an hour; then we can pull up to the lock and down again. It’ll be time for tea then.”
Accordingly the two laid in their paddles, and stretching themselves on the bottom of the boat beneath the shade of an overhanging tree, soon fell asleep, lulled by the gentle ripple of the water. An hour passed, and still they slumbered placidly, the wash of a big boat as it slipped by them failed to rouse them. They heard nothing, and even the hoarse chuckles of a few comrades on the bank above them did not disturb them.
“What say, Jim? Shall we let ’em go?” grinned one.
“Yes, send ’em along, Tom. It’ll be a proper joke to watch ’em when they wakes up and looks about ’em,” was the answer. “Now, shake off that rope, and pitch it into the boat. So—oh! Gently, man! Shove ’em off as quiet as if they was babies in a cradle.”
It was a huge joke to those upon the bank, but upon the unconscious occupants of the craft it was wasted. They stirred neither hand nor eyelid, but, locked firmly in the arms of Morpheus, glided down the river, totally unmindful of the shouts which followed them and of the angry “Boat ahead! Where are you coming to? Steer to the left!” which was hurled at them on more than one occasion. Suddenly a louder shout awoke Phil, and, sitting up with a start, he stared around, his eyes wide-open with astonishment, to find that he and Tony were drifting in midstream past the Brocas, and were already within 50 feet of the bridge.
“Why, we’re adrift!” he exclaimed in a bewildered tone. “Here, Tony, wake up or we shall be on the bridge!”
“Eh, what!” grunted Tony, rubbing his eyes. “Adrift! What’s that row about?”
The shout which had aroused Phil was repeated at that moment and, taken up immediately, assumed a perfect roar, in the intervals of which a loud clattering as of wheels rapidly passing over cobble stones, and the stamp of horses’ hoofs were heard.
“Sounds like a cart or something coming down the street,” said Phil. “Look out, Tony, something’s wrong!”
As Phil spoke the clatter of hoofs and wheels became deafening, and before either could realise what was happening, two maddened horses dashed on to the bridge, dragging a carriage after them in which a gentleman was seated. On the back of one of the beasts was a postilion, and before Phil had time to exclaim, “It’s a royal carriage!” the vehicle had collided with a cart coming in the opposite direction, there was a crash and a sound of breaking woodwork, and next second rider and passenger were shot as if from a catapult over the low rail of the bridge into the water.
“Quick! get your paddle out!” cried Phil, snatching one up and plunging it into the water.
Tony, now fully awake, sprang up and hastily obeyed, but with such vigour that he swung the boat round till it lay across the stream. Next moment, driven by the swirl of the water, it was hurled against a support of the bridge and capsized immediately.
When Phil rose to the surface a few seconds later, and had shaken the water from his eyes, he saw the boat shooting bottom-uppermost through the archway of the bridge, with Tony clinging to it. The stream had already swept him through, and just in front of him, splashing helplessly, was the unfortunate postilion, his eyes glaring round in search of help, and his mouth wide-open as he shouted to the people on the bank.
“All right! I’ll be with you in a moment,” cried Phil, striking out in his direction. A minute later he was by his side, and, grasping him by the shoulder, supported him till the overturned boat floated past them.
Both clutched it, and hung on for their lives.
“There he is, there’s the other!” shouted a crowd of people on the bridge, and, hearing them, Phil hoisted himself as high as possible and searched the water carefully. There was a swirl some fifteen feet away, and two clutching hands suddenly appeared, to be swallowed up an instant later.
Leaving the boat Phil struck out with all his might, to find nothing when he reached the spot; but, plunging beneath the surface, he let the stream sweep him on, and groped with outstretched hands on either side. Something touched his fingers, and, grasping it he pulled it to him; holding tightly with both hands he kicked frantically till his head appeared above the water. Another second and the head of the unconscious passenger was reclining on his shoulder, and a burst of hearty cheering was ringing in his ears. Breathless and exhausted after the struggle, Phil looked round and caught sight of the boat drifting down to him. Treading water for a few minutes he supported the figure in his arms, and at last reached out for and obtained a firm hold of the keel, to which he clung, unable to make another effort, so much was he fatigued.
But help was at hand. A boat had been hastily pushed off from the river-bank, and before long all four had been lifted from the water and carried up the steps on to terra firma. A doctor was hastily summoned, and meanwhile the gentleman and the postilion were removed to a cottage.
As for Phil, five minutes’ rest upon the ground made him feel himself again. Then, shaking the water from him, and bashfully exchanging handshakes with the enthusiastic crowd who surrounded him, and would not be denied, he slipped away with Tony, and, aided by a waterman, righted the capsized boat and proceeded to bail the water out.
“Come along, let’s get out of this, Tony!” he exclaimed fretfully. “I never came across such a bother, and I hate a fuss like this.”
“But you’ll stop and give yer name, Phil? They’re certain to want it, ’specially as the cove has summat to do with the castle.”
“Oh, they can find out later on! Come along and let’s get away,” repeated Phil, in far more terror now than he had been when the boat upset.
“Wait a minute, my men,” suddenly sang out a voice from the bank. “I want to find out who you are.”
Phil reluctantly helped to push the boat alongside, while a gentleman who he knew had some connection with the castle pushed his way to the front of the crowd and, coming down the steps, held his hand out towards him.
“Shake hands, my brave young fellow,” he said earnestly. “I never saw a more gallant deed, and you can have every cause for satisfaction, for you have saved the life of one of our Queen’s most honoured guests. What is your name?”
“Private Western, sir,” answered Phil with flushed cheeks. “Private Phil Western, Number 1760.”
“Then, Western, you can expect to hear from me again. You are a credit to your regiment, and your officers and all your comrades shall know what a fine lad you are. Now, I will not detain you. You had better get off and change your clothes.”
“Three cheers for the sodger boy!” a voice in the crowd shouted; and these were given with a gusto which made Phil’s heart flutter, while Tony stood upright in the boat, looking more pleased and proud than he had ever done before.
“Shove off!” cried Phil almost angrily. “Shove off, or we shall never get away.” A minute later they were pulling up-stream once more.
“I don’t mind guessing them stripes is yours,” chuckled Tony over his shoulder. “Young un, I knewed you’d have ’em soon, but you’ve won ’em now, and no one ought to feel prouder of them than you. Mate, Tony Jenkins is more pleased than if he’d got ’em hisself, and he feels just like a blessed peacock.”
Phil made no reply, for he was still confused after his adventure, but for all that the thought that now there was some possibility of promotion elated him. If from this day he was to be known as Corporal Western he determined that he would do credit to that rank, and make use of it as a stepping-stone to a higher one. He wondered what the colonel would say, and was in the middle of imagining himself being thanked by that officer in the orderly-room when the boat banged against the bank.
“Come along, mate,” cried Tony. “We’ll get along to barracks and change these wet togs.”
Squeezing the water from their garments they left the boat in charge of its owner, and made the best of their way to the barracks, where they were not long in getting into dry clothing.
Already a rumour had reached the soldiers, and soon both were surrounded by an eager crush.
“What’s happened? What have you two chaps been up to?” they asked.
“Oh, an upset in the river, that’s all!” said Phil nervously. “Here, ask Tony, he knows all about it;” and having transferred their attentions from himself he slipped away, while Tony, seated comfortably on the end of a bed, calmly filled and lighted his pipe, and, puffing big clouds into the air, dilated upon the gallant deed performed by his chum.
“He’s a good plucked un, you chaps, as I has good cause to know,” he concluded. “Once he saved me from a bear as was near tearing me to pieces, and now he’s fished a gent out of the river that’s staying along with the Queen. He’s made, is Phil Western, and’ll get his stripes. What’s more, I’ll tell yer now, so as there won’t be no mistakes. When the young un’s corporal, we’ll all treat him as such. Any chap as doesn’t ’ll have to square it up with me. So now yer know what to expect.”
With this final shot Tony pulled hard at his pipe and went off to find his friend.
Phil had won his stripes without a doubt, but he had yet to go through the ordeal of receiving them.
The very next day his name was down for commanding officer’s orders, and when he marched into the orderly-room, and stood to attention in front of the green baize table, there was the colonel looking kindly at him, while a row of officers, no less interested in the young soldier who had behaved so gallantly, stood on either side.
“Western, my lad, it is reported to me that you saved two lives from drowning yesterday,” said the colonel. “I have made enquiries about it and find that you behaved nobly, and have been a credit to this regiment. I may tell you that your name has already been mentioned as deserving of promotion, and there is no doubt but that you would have received your stripes ere long. But now you may feel doubly proud of them, for you have gained them by an act of bravery, which is seldom the case unless on active service. From this date you are a full corporal. Now, my lad, get your stripes put on, for we shall want to see them on parade.”
Motionless, looking straight to his front, Phil listened as if in a dream. Then he blurted out, “Thank you, sir!” and a second later was obeying the order, “Right turn! Quick march!”
Outside, by order of the colonel, the tailor was waiting for him, and within a quarter of an hour Phil was the proud possessor of two stripes on his right arm, the badge of a full corporal.
“There you are, corporal,” said the tailor. “They’re fixed on strong, and I hope they’ll never want to be taken off. Stick to ’em, and when the time comes I’ll sew on another with all me heart. Now you’d better look lively. The ‘fall in’ goes in a few minutes, and I hear there’s something else for you to listen to.”
“Something else? Why, what?” asked Phil.
“Well, some message came down from the castle, that’s all I know of, but they’re rigging up the platform on the square, so it looks like some show or other.”
Phil groaned dismally, and went to his barrack-room to smarten himself up, hoping that this new “show” could have nothing to do with himself.
But he was disappointed. The whole battalion fell in, carrying the colours, and having been duly formed up in review order and inspected, they stood at ease, wondering what was coming, and looking with curious eyes at the group of privileged sightseers who had already assembled, and at the red-carpeted platform which had been placed on the opposite side of the square.
Suddenly a movement was noticed amidst the crowd outside the gates; they opened up, and a minute later two royal carriages swept in past the guard-room.
All eyes were turned towards them, till a hoarse “Battalion, attention. Royal salute. Present arms!” was given by the colonel, and as one man the regiment went through the movement, colours and officers’ swords dropped simultaneously, and a royal personage, dressed in full uniform, was driven up to the centre, where, the carriage having stopped, he descended, and returned the salute.
Then followed a minute inspection, during which Phil’s heart beat tumultuously against his ribs. Afterwards, with colours in air and the band playing, the regiment marched past in column—a sight worth going many miles to see—and finally drew up in quarter column and faced inwards towards the platform.
“Corporal Western!” the colonel cried.
Phil started and flushed crimson. Then, recovering his composure, he stepped from the ranks, and, marching forward, halted a few paces in front of the platform.
“Officers, non-commissioned officers, and men,” commenced the royal personage who had reviewed them, stepping forward, “it has given me great pleasure to come here to-day and witness the fine way in which you have marched, and the smart, soldierly appearance you present. You have fully upheld the traditions of the regiment to which you belong. I have now another pleasant duty. One of your number performed a gallant act yesterday. He was then a private, and is now a corporal. He has won his promotion by bravery, as every soldier desires to do, and as a mark of the Queen’s gratitude for saving the life of a distinguished guest, and in order that he may never forget this day, I now present Corporal Western with this watch and chain, and I feel sure he will always prize it. It comes from his Queen. May it one day be carried in the fob of an officer!”
Bewildered, and scarcely knowing whether he stood on his head or his heels, Phil took the watch handed to him and returned to the ranks. In a dream he heard the regiment answer the colonel’s call for cheers as the royal officer stepped into his carriage, and in the same condition he stood, whilst his comrades tore off their bearskins, and, hoisting them on their bayonets, shouted cheers at him for his gallantry.
It was a bad half-hour for Phil, but, like all things, it came to an end. Soon he was back in the barrack-room, with friends crushing round and eagerly gazing at the gold watch and chain presented to him.
What Phil valued most was the crown set with brilliants on the back, and the inscription beneath, which ran:
“Presented to Corporal Philip Western, of the Grenadier Guards,In recognition of his gallantry,By Victoria R.”
“Presented to Corporal Philip Western, of the Grenadier Guards,In recognition of his gallantry,By Victoria R.”
Many and many a time did Phil pull out the watch and gaze at that inscription, and often too did he determine that one day it should lie in the waistcoat pocket of an officer.
“It’s my first step in the regiment,” he said quietly to Tony, when talking over his promotion, “and I hope it will not be the last.”
“Never fear, young un! You’ll get higher yet, I know,” Tony replied earnestly. “In these days of peace it will take a time, no doubt; but if there’s war, as seems likely, then you’ll go up, and I don’t mind telling yer it’s my opinion you’ll be an officer yet afore I gets my stripes.”
“Humbug, Tony! It takes years and years to get a commission, even when on active service. But I mean to have a good try for it, and should troubles come with some foreign power, then, as you say, there is all the more chance of my being successful. Now I am off to the quarter-master to ask him to put this in his safe and keep it for me. I wouldn’t lose it for worlds.”
Chapter Six.War with Russia.The summer months flew by in the pleasant surroundings of beautiful Windsor. Guard duties alternating with drills, and odd hours spent in the office of the regimental orderly-room, kept Phil pleasantly occupied, and when off duty he and Tony had always plenty of ways of amusing themselves, so that the latter days of September found them loth to leave the garrison and march to London. But orders had come for the battalion to go to Wellington Barracks, and in due course they found themselves once more installed in their old quarters, facing the park across the celebrated Bird-cage Walk.“We’ve had a real good time down there,” remarked Tony, some two months after their arrival, jerking his thumb in the direction of Windsor, “and it’ll be long before we strike against such another.“What’s to be done here? Nothing—simply nothing! It’s drill and go on guard nigh every day, and when you’re free, kick yer heels in the square, or go out walking. I’m getting tired of it already.”“Oh, come, Tony, it isn’t quite so bad as that!” laughed Phil. “We’re no harder worked here than we were during the summer, and in our free time we can find heaps to do if we only set about it. They say that thousands of Londoners know far less about their own surroundings than do occasional visitors. Now I propose we get some sort of a guide, and every day we are able, go off to see some gallery or museum. It will cost us little or nothing, and will be good fun. In any case it would take weeks to exhaust all the sights, and before that, if all one hears is true, we are likely to be setting our faces south for some other country.”“Oh, you mean we’ll be off fighting, do you, Phil? Well, I ain’t so jolly certain. Seems to me that England ain’t keen on a row just now. It takes a scholar to know anything about it, but I hears that the Queen and her government want peace, and I suppose what England wants she’s bound to have. Leastways that’s how I reckon it, for we’d whop the heads off any nation what tried to interfere.”“Ha, ha! You’ve rather a big idea of England’s power,” laughed Phil; “but there’s a good deal of truth in it, I expect. I must get to know about this row, and meanwhile we’ll do as I said, if you’re agreeable.”“Yes, it’ll suit me well, young un,” answered Tony, who was fond of addressing his friend in that way. “I don’t drink, and I ain’t never in trouble nowadays, thanks to you, but there’s no saying what might happen if I hadn’t anything to do. What’s that kind of saying about idleness?”“Idleness is the root of all evil.”“Yes, that’s it, Phil. Give me plenty to do, and I’ll be better able to keep that promise I made yer.”Accordingly Phil and Tony laid out a couple of shillings in a guide, and commenced systematically to investigate the sights of London, commencing with the Tower, where a regiment of Guards was quartered, and turning their attention next to the British Museum, which itself occupied several days.“We must do the thing thoroughly,” said Phil, as, book in hand, he and Tony strolled through one of the larger rooms. “I’ll tell you what will be a good plan. We’ll pay a visit to the map room, look up a certain country, and then investigate whatever curios there happen to be from that part.”“I’m with yer, Phil,” Tony answered cheerfully, wishing to please his companion, and secretly imbued with a firm determination to make up as much as possible for his ignorance. “But you’ll have to show me everything. I don’t suppose I’d be able to tell the difference between a map of France and one of England. You’d better start with the lot, and point ’em out one by one.”Anxious to improve his humble friend, Phil took up his education in this way with zest, and spent hours in scanning a map of the world. So deeply interested did they become that on the second day they did not observe that a little man, dressed in respectable black, and wearing a large white stock, had stolen up behind them, and with smiling face, and eyes which peered through a pair of glasses, was peeping over their shoulders and listening with interest to the harangue which Phil was delivering for the benefit of Tony.“There’s the Black Sea, communicating with the Mediterranean by means of this narrow channel,” Phil was remarking, as he placed his finger on the Dardanelles, and ran it up and down to show the communication between the two seas. “There’s Turkey, and there’s Russia; and it’s between those two countries that war is imminent.”“Then Russia and the Czar, or whatever he’s called, ought to be ashamed of theirselves, that’s all I’ve got to say,” answered Tony with disgust. “See what a size the first one is. Why, the other’s only a baby.”“She’ll fight for all that, Tony, so people say, but why or for what I don’t know. Russia wants something, and Turkey says ‘No’. Russia has answered that she will have it or war, and now I believe the Sultan is on the point of replying.”“Yus, that’s clear enough, young un, but what about Old England? Where does she come in? Why should she fight Russia when the row’s between the Czar and the Sultan? It beats me altogether.”“And me too, Tony. I’m in a regular fog.”“Then allow me to help you,” came in suave tones from the dapper little stranger, with such suddenness, that both Tony and Phil started back in surprise.“Ah! did not know that I was there, I suppose,” remarked the stranger, with a smile. “But I’ve been listening—listening with interest for some time. You have had some education, I observe, young sir,” he continued, addressing Phil, “and if you and your companion would really care, I will clear up this mystery for you.”“Thank you! It would be very kind, sir,” exclaimed Phil. “We have bothered about the matter many days.”“And there is no one who ought to be informed more than you, my friends,” the stranger remarked earnestly. “As sure as my name is Shelton, you of the Guards, and many another soldier boy, will be off towards the Black Sea before many weeks have passed. For war is practically certain.”“Horroo! You don’t say so, sir!” cried Tony, snapping his fingers with delight and drawing himself up stiffly as though to show Mr Shelton what a fight he would make of it.“But I do, my young friend,” the latter replied, with a grave smile. “War is undoubtedly imminent, and the Powers are about to grapple with an enemy as subtle and as courageous as exists in any part of the world. But come, glance at the map and I will try to tell you all about the trouble, and when I have finished I feel sure that you two will go out with all the more determination to do your duty for the sake of the oppressed and for England’s honour, for if ever there was an act of bullying the Czar is guilty of it.“You must know that Russia’s teeming thousands are, as a mass, densely, hopelessly ignorant. Peasants for the most part, they live a life of abject misery. They are little better than slaves, and, ruled over by various lords, they one and all look to the Czar as all-powerful, unconquerable, and as a tyrant whose word is law, and whose hand, lifted in anger, is worse than death itself. He is, in other words, an autocratic ruler, and he, like those who held the throne before him, has diligently followed out a policy of keeping his poor subjects in a state of ignorance. What a work it would be to lift those poor people from their lifelong condition of serfdom! A work fit for the best of rulers; but educate them, teach them to think for themselves, and at once your autocratic government ceases, for the masses will unite and rise against a galling system of tyranny and oppression. They will no longer bow to the will of one man—to thousands in the far-off districts a ruler only in name,—but, goaded to rebellion, they will fight for that liberty sweet to every man.“Thus, you will follow me, education is opposed to autocratic rule. But such a rule, bringing in its train misery and poverty, breeds discontent, and even the most pitiable of wretches, if sufficiently ill-treated, will brood over their wrongs till the fury of hate seizes them, and once more the reign of the absolute ruler is threatened. So well is the Czar Nicholas aware of this, that to distract the attention of his subjects from their grievances he has filled their minds with the alluring spectacle of foreign conquests. Look at the map. See how big the Russian empire is, and remember how a great part is almost uninhabitable owing to excessive cold. Then look at her capital, Saint Petersburg, and see how far from European ports it is. How much better for her if she possessed a town in the position of Constantinople. Then, with the narrow Dardanelles to guard, she could post a fleet of war-ships in the Black Sea, and at any moment swoop down into the Mediterranean. She would become at once mistress of that sea, and as such could intimidate her neighbours. And in peace times what an outlet the Turkish capital would prove for all Russia’s surplus manufactures, and how easily a vast quantity of stores could be imported through it! It would be the making of Russia, my young friends, and she knows it, has known it, and has steadily worked for that end.”Mr Shelton paused, and, drawing the map closer, pointed out the various points of interest in Russia and Turkey, while Phil and Tony followed him.“Ah, now I begin to see!” said the former; “Russia wants Turkey, or rather that part of it on the Dardanelles, and that I suppose is the reason for this trouble. But surely she would not deliberately attempt to deprive the Sultan of his capital?”“By no means, young sir; the Czar is far too clever for that. He wanted a pretext for war, and one which would appeal to his people; and what more powerful one could he have found than a religious one, that is, one in which those of the Greek Church were shown to be the martyrs, for Russia belongs to that persuasion.“There was one at hand. The Holy Land, which of course is under the Sultan’s sway, is the home of large numbers of priests and others belonging to the Latin and the Greek Churches, and the Czar promptly demanded that the latter should have more religious privileges than the former, while France, whose interests are with the Latin Church, demanded the very opposite. What was the unhappy Sultan to do? Himself a Mahometan, he could not be expected to favour either of the two infidel sects practising their religion at Jerusalem.“It was an exceedingly difficult problem, and it is not to be wondered at that he failed to please both parties. The Latins were moderately content, while the Greek Church was roused into a fit of the warmest indignation, and with it the Czar, who at once despatched two army corps over the Turkish frontier and occupied the country between it and the Danube, in the opinion of all right-thinking people an act of monstrous injustice.”“I should think so indeed!” Phil blurted out. “How could the poor Sultan be expected to satisfy both parties? It was a regular trap.”“Undoubtedly, undoubtedly, my friend! It was an example of high-handedness never before surpassed,” remarked Mr Shelton gravely. “But still war might have been averted, for the Sultan now agreed to the Czar’s demands, and in the eyes of Europe Russia could not but withdraw.“Such a course, however, was far from her intentions. With this point gained, she now demanded a protectorate over all subjects of the Greek Church, a suggestion which, if complied with, would have at once led 14,000,000 people resident in Turkey to own the Czar as their ruler, and thus leave the unfortunate Sultan with merely a sprinkling of subjects.“Turkey might have declared war promptly, but now the Western powers, much to the Czar’s chagrin and anger, intervened. Look at Austria. If Turkey were occupied by Russia, the emperor’s territory would be partially enclosed, and a feeling of insecurity would naturally arise. Therefore he is opposed to the scheme. France has perhaps no very definite reason for opposition, save the upholding of the rights of the Latin Church. But we must remember that she has ever been a belligerent power, and that success in arms would place Louis Napoleon more firmly on a throne at present in a decidedly shaky condition. Also, if she took Russia’s part, she would have England and her fleet to cope with, an item that I can assure you, my young friends, is not to be lightly thought of.“And now for England. Ever the mainstay of justice and right, and the protector of the oppressed, she has, considerably to the astonishment of everyone, and particularly of Russia, awakened from that long peace enjoyed since Waterloo, and, shaking herself free for the moment from her absorbing interest in trade, has thrown herself heart and soul into the cause of Turkey. With the French, some of our ships sailed to the Bosphorus; and as Russia refused to withdraw her troops from the Danube, the combined fleets entered the Dardanelles and anchored before Constantinople.“And now comes the crux of the whole thing,” said Mr Shelton, with emphasis. “We are not at war, but our interests are aroused, and our sympathy with Turkey is deep. It wanted only a match to set us flaring, and cause us to engage in a war of what magnitude no one can say, and that match has been applied. On the last day of November a small fleet of Turkish ships, which had anchored at Sinope, close above Constantinople, was destroyed, together with 4000 men, by a fleet of Russian war-vessels. It was a cruel and unnecessary act. Capture would have sufficed. But the fatal deed is done, and now I fancy both England and France are launched into the struggle, for their peoples are clamouring for the punishment of the Czar and his subjects. In any case a few days will determine the matter, and then, my lads, your country will have need of you, and thousands more like you.”“Then I for one, sir, shall fight all the better and all the harder now that I know exactly what the trouble is!” exclaimed Phil; while Tony gave a grunt of marked approval, showing that if he had failed to grasp exactly the real reason for war, he had at any rate a decided grudge against the Czar and his people, which he would endeavour to satisfy at the earliest opportunity.“And where do you think the fighting will take place?” continued Phil. “Shall we invade Russia, or will our fleets go in chase of the Russian ships? In that case we soldiers would have precious little to do, and the sailors would come in for all the honour and glory.”“Rest easy, my young friend,” replied Mr Shelton, with a smile. “Both services will have their hands full, or I shall be much surprised. At present matters point to a campaign on the Danube, while our fleet holds the Dardanelles and the Black Sea; but for all I know Russia may be invaded. In that case Sebastopol is likely to be the port fixed upon for attack. Situated in the Crimea, it is an immense naval and military arsenal, which in itself is a constant menace to Turkey. Look at the map once more and note the position of the Danube and of Sebastopol, you will then more readily see the truth of my words.”“Don’t matter to me where it is, sir!” exclaimed Tony bluntly; “if it’s war we’ll fight and lick the beggars, see if we don’t; and if it comes to invasion, or whatever yer calls it, well, all the better, I say. ’Tain’t nearly such good fun sticking behind stone walls and keeping fellers out as it is rushing forts and such like things, and turning the garrison out with the end of a bay’net. That’s the boy for ’em. Give me and all my mates a good half-yard of steel at the end of our guns, and see if we don’t make it warm for the Russians. We’ll do as well as the Froggies at any rate.”“That you will, I am sure,” laughed Mr Shelton, patting him on the back. “Fancy how strange it is that we who have always been fighting with France, who is, as I might say, our natural enemy, should now be side by side with her, and in all probability will soon be fighting for the same object. It will lead to tremendous scenes of emulation, for no British soldier will care to allow a Frenchman to beat him at anything.”“I should think not, indeed,” Phil snorted. “There was a chap at the school I first went to who was a regular Froggy. His people had come to England to save him from conscription; it would have been the making of him, for he was a regular donkey, conceited and all that; curled his hair and put scent on his handkerchief. Pah! How we disliked that fellow!”“It sounds as though you had had something to do with him,” said Mr Shelton, with a quizzical smile, “for we were saying that no Englishman would suffer a Frenchman to beat him.”“Oh—er, yes, there was something like that!” Phil replied, with reddened cheeks. “You see the beggar got so uppish and disagreeable there was no doing anything with him; then, when I called him Froggy, in pure jest, he threw a stump at me, and caught me a crack on the head. I didn’t like that, and—er—”“Yes, you did what?” asked Mr Shelton, with the same quizzical smile.“I licked him till he blubbered,” Phil blurted out shamefacedly, conscious that he had been dragged into saying more than he had at first intended.“Ha, ha, ha! you licked him till he blubbered,” roared the old gentleman, losing in a moment his appearance of gravity, and beaming all over his face. “You licked him, and a very proper thing too, my friend! But you must not be trying such games now. It would mean a court-martial, or even something more serious. But I must be going now. Bear in mind what I have told you, and be sure of this—war—red war—is at hand. Now good-bye and good luck!—you are just the class of lads that England will want.”“Thank you, sir! Good-bye!” cried Phil and Tony, saluting the old gentleman. Then, tucking their canes under their arms, they strode out of the building and away to the barracks, discussing as they went the possibility of war, and the share they were likely to take in it.“I’m going to get a book on Russian!” exclaimed Phil, the day following their visit to the British Museum. “People tell me it is the most difficult of all languages to learn, but I may be able to pick up a few useful words. I remember now that the firm I acted as clerk to did business with another trading with Russian ports, and they had a Russian clerk. I met him once or twice, and I’ll just go along and see what he says about the matter.”“It’s a good thing, right enough, Phil,” Tony replied, with a shrug, “but it’s far beyond me, as far as the clouds; but you have a try at it, old man, and I’ll be bound you’ll succeed. I never knew yer beat yet.”Accordingly Phil went off at the first opportunity to see the clerk he had mentioned, and after a chat with him bought a book, and was shown the characters as a first lesson.“Take my advice,” said the clerk, who was the son of a Russian mother and an English father, and almost entirely English in his ways and thoughts, “and buy a really good map of the country, and a reliable compass. Supposing you get cut off from the troops, it might prove of the greatest service to you. As regards the language, come along to my rooms as often as you like. I am always in about six o’clock, and will be glad to give you a lesson.”Phil was not slow to take advantage of the offer. Every day he was free from guards and other duties, and had no engagement with Tony to see the sights of London, he repaired to the rooms of his Russian friend, and there worked hard at the language.If Mr Western could have seen him and his earnestness, he would have been agape with amazement. This his idle adopted son? This the wilful lad who would never settle down to work, and never take a leading place in his class at school? Could this young soldier—this fine, stalwart young fellow (even he would have been obliged to admit it)—who slaved so many hours day and night at the dryest of dry and uninteresting subjects, be really the lad who had always gone contrary to his wishes, the unmanageable boy full of daring and mischief, who had occasioned the vicar of Riddington so many anxious and bitter thoughts? To him it would have been almost beyond belief. His dull and rigidly narrow mind could not have grasped the change. But Joe Sweetman, what would he have said? How he would have chuckled, with just a suspicion of pride and elation, and blurted out: “Didn’t I tell you so. Leave the lad alone. Wild and unmanageable? Pshaw! Look at him now. His heart’s in the right place. He’s got hold of a subject he’s interested in, and he’s got the backbone to stick to it, though it means a lot of hard work.”And Phil had indeed the backbone and perseverance to continue to work at the language. A month passed, and he had apparently made no progress, and the alphabet was still almost a troublesome maze to him. But when some weeks more had flown by he could join a few words together in the semblance of sense, though he was still far from being able to carry on a conversation. By the middle of February, 1854, the year in which the eventful Crimean war began, he could even acknowledge to himself that he was getting on, and that a little more practice would find him fairly proficient. Never for a moment did he forget this ambition of his, this self-imposed task, to master the most difficult of languages. Who is there who cannot imagine the labour it meant, the constant grinding, the late hours when, beneath a flickering gas-jet or a smoking oil lantern, he opened his book and devoured its contents till his eyes were almost falling from his head? Few, indeed, would saddle themselves willingly with such a labour, but to Phil to take up a subject, however trivial, was to succeed, and that very success was the reward he received. The alphabet and more difficult words having now been mastered, the work was far more pleasant, and invited him to persevere.“There’s no doubt about it, it is a grind, an awful grind,” he one day admitted in muttered tones to himself. “But I’ll stick to it. It comes easier to me every day, and who knows what the knowledge may do for me? Interpreters will certainly be required, though to imagine myself one is flying rather high.”On parade, at musketry practice, everywhere he would repeat sentences in low tones, and would attempt to put the orders for the soldiers into Russian. Then, at the first opportunity, he and the clerk who had so befriended him would retire to the latter’s room and there carry on a long conversation, in which no English was admitted on pain of a small fine. Thus, as the days passed, his proficiency increased, till he was almost competent to find his way through the heart of Russia without much difficulty, so far as the language was concerned.But a far from unexpected interruption occurred. France and England were on the eve of despatching an ultimatum to Russia, and the usually placid life of the Guards was disturbed by orders to embark for active service.
The summer months flew by in the pleasant surroundings of beautiful Windsor. Guard duties alternating with drills, and odd hours spent in the office of the regimental orderly-room, kept Phil pleasantly occupied, and when off duty he and Tony had always plenty of ways of amusing themselves, so that the latter days of September found them loth to leave the garrison and march to London. But orders had come for the battalion to go to Wellington Barracks, and in due course they found themselves once more installed in their old quarters, facing the park across the celebrated Bird-cage Walk.
“We’ve had a real good time down there,” remarked Tony, some two months after their arrival, jerking his thumb in the direction of Windsor, “and it’ll be long before we strike against such another.
“What’s to be done here? Nothing—simply nothing! It’s drill and go on guard nigh every day, and when you’re free, kick yer heels in the square, or go out walking. I’m getting tired of it already.”
“Oh, come, Tony, it isn’t quite so bad as that!” laughed Phil. “We’re no harder worked here than we were during the summer, and in our free time we can find heaps to do if we only set about it. They say that thousands of Londoners know far less about their own surroundings than do occasional visitors. Now I propose we get some sort of a guide, and every day we are able, go off to see some gallery or museum. It will cost us little or nothing, and will be good fun. In any case it would take weeks to exhaust all the sights, and before that, if all one hears is true, we are likely to be setting our faces south for some other country.”
“Oh, you mean we’ll be off fighting, do you, Phil? Well, I ain’t so jolly certain. Seems to me that England ain’t keen on a row just now. It takes a scholar to know anything about it, but I hears that the Queen and her government want peace, and I suppose what England wants she’s bound to have. Leastways that’s how I reckon it, for we’d whop the heads off any nation what tried to interfere.”
“Ha, ha! You’ve rather a big idea of England’s power,” laughed Phil; “but there’s a good deal of truth in it, I expect. I must get to know about this row, and meanwhile we’ll do as I said, if you’re agreeable.”
“Yes, it’ll suit me well, young un,” answered Tony, who was fond of addressing his friend in that way. “I don’t drink, and I ain’t never in trouble nowadays, thanks to you, but there’s no saying what might happen if I hadn’t anything to do. What’s that kind of saying about idleness?”
“Idleness is the root of all evil.”
“Yes, that’s it, Phil. Give me plenty to do, and I’ll be better able to keep that promise I made yer.”
Accordingly Phil and Tony laid out a couple of shillings in a guide, and commenced systematically to investigate the sights of London, commencing with the Tower, where a regiment of Guards was quartered, and turning their attention next to the British Museum, which itself occupied several days.
“We must do the thing thoroughly,” said Phil, as, book in hand, he and Tony strolled through one of the larger rooms. “I’ll tell you what will be a good plan. We’ll pay a visit to the map room, look up a certain country, and then investigate whatever curios there happen to be from that part.”
“I’m with yer, Phil,” Tony answered cheerfully, wishing to please his companion, and secretly imbued with a firm determination to make up as much as possible for his ignorance. “But you’ll have to show me everything. I don’t suppose I’d be able to tell the difference between a map of France and one of England. You’d better start with the lot, and point ’em out one by one.”
Anxious to improve his humble friend, Phil took up his education in this way with zest, and spent hours in scanning a map of the world. So deeply interested did they become that on the second day they did not observe that a little man, dressed in respectable black, and wearing a large white stock, had stolen up behind them, and with smiling face, and eyes which peered through a pair of glasses, was peeping over their shoulders and listening with interest to the harangue which Phil was delivering for the benefit of Tony.
“There’s the Black Sea, communicating with the Mediterranean by means of this narrow channel,” Phil was remarking, as he placed his finger on the Dardanelles, and ran it up and down to show the communication between the two seas. “There’s Turkey, and there’s Russia; and it’s between those two countries that war is imminent.”
“Then Russia and the Czar, or whatever he’s called, ought to be ashamed of theirselves, that’s all I’ve got to say,” answered Tony with disgust. “See what a size the first one is. Why, the other’s only a baby.”
“She’ll fight for all that, Tony, so people say, but why or for what I don’t know. Russia wants something, and Turkey says ‘No’. Russia has answered that she will have it or war, and now I believe the Sultan is on the point of replying.”
“Yus, that’s clear enough, young un, but what about Old England? Where does she come in? Why should she fight Russia when the row’s between the Czar and the Sultan? It beats me altogether.”
“And me too, Tony. I’m in a regular fog.”
“Then allow me to help you,” came in suave tones from the dapper little stranger, with such suddenness, that both Tony and Phil started back in surprise.
“Ah! did not know that I was there, I suppose,” remarked the stranger, with a smile. “But I’ve been listening—listening with interest for some time. You have had some education, I observe, young sir,” he continued, addressing Phil, “and if you and your companion would really care, I will clear up this mystery for you.”
“Thank you! It would be very kind, sir,” exclaimed Phil. “We have bothered about the matter many days.”
“And there is no one who ought to be informed more than you, my friends,” the stranger remarked earnestly. “As sure as my name is Shelton, you of the Guards, and many another soldier boy, will be off towards the Black Sea before many weeks have passed. For war is practically certain.”
“Horroo! You don’t say so, sir!” cried Tony, snapping his fingers with delight and drawing himself up stiffly as though to show Mr Shelton what a fight he would make of it.
“But I do, my young friend,” the latter replied, with a grave smile. “War is undoubtedly imminent, and the Powers are about to grapple with an enemy as subtle and as courageous as exists in any part of the world. But come, glance at the map and I will try to tell you all about the trouble, and when I have finished I feel sure that you two will go out with all the more determination to do your duty for the sake of the oppressed and for England’s honour, for if ever there was an act of bullying the Czar is guilty of it.
“You must know that Russia’s teeming thousands are, as a mass, densely, hopelessly ignorant. Peasants for the most part, they live a life of abject misery. They are little better than slaves, and, ruled over by various lords, they one and all look to the Czar as all-powerful, unconquerable, and as a tyrant whose word is law, and whose hand, lifted in anger, is worse than death itself. He is, in other words, an autocratic ruler, and he, like those who held the throne before him, has diligently followed out a policy of keeping his poor subjects in a state of ignorance. What a work it would be to lift those poor people from their lifelong condition of serfdom! A work fit for the best of rulers; but educate them, teach them to think for themselves, and at once your autocratic government ceases, for the masses will unite and rise against a galling system of tyranny and oppression. They will no longer bow to the will of one man—to thousands in the far-off districts a ruler only in name,—but, goaded to rebellion, they will fight for that liberty sweet to every man.
“Thus, you will follow me, education is opposed to autocratic rule. But such a rule, bringing in its train misery and poverty, breeds discontent, and even the most pitiable of wretches, if sufficiently ill-treated, will brood over their wrongs till the fury of hate seizes them, and once more the reign of the absolute ruler is threatened. So well is the Czar Nicholas aware of this, that to distract the attention of his subjects from their grievances he has filled their minds with the alluring spectacle of foreign conquests. Look at the map. See how big the Russian empire is, and remember how a great part is almost uninhabitable owing to excessive cold. Then look at her capital, Saint Petersburg, and see how far from European ports it is. How much better for her if she possessed a town in the position of Constantinople. Then, with the narrow Dardanelles to guard, she could post a fleet of war-ships in the Black Sea, and at any moment swoop down into the Mediterranean. She would become at once mistress of that sea, and as such could intimidate her neighbours. And in peace times what an outlet the Turkish capital would prove for all Russia’s surplus manufactures, and how easily a vast quantity of stores could be imported through it! It would be the making of Russia, my young friends, and she knows it, has known it, and has steadily worked for that end.”
Mr Shelton paused, and, drawing the map closer, pointed out the various points of interest in Russia and Turkey, while Phil and Tony followed him.
“Ah, now I begin to see!” said the former; “Russia wants Turkey, or rather that part of it on the Dardanelles, and that I suppose is the reason for this trouble. But surely she would not deliberately attempt to deprive the Sultan of his capital?”
“By no means, young sir; the Czar is far too clever for that. He wanted a pretext for war, and one which would appeal to his people; and what more powerful one could he have found than a religious one, that is, one in which those of the Greek Church were shown to be the martyrs, for Russia belongs to that persuasion.
“There was one at hand. The Holy Land, which of course is under the Sultan’s sway, is the home of large numbers of priests and others belonging to the Latin and the Greek Churches, and the Czar promptly demanded that the latter should have more religious privileges than the former, while France, whose interests are with the Latin Church, demanded the very opposite. What was the unhappy Sultan to do? Himself a Mahometan, he could not be expected to favour either of the two infidel sects practising their religion at Jerusalem.
“It was an exceedingly difficult problem, and it is not to be wondered at that he failed to please both parties. The Latins were moderately content, while the Greek Church was roused into a fit of the warmest indignation, and with it the Czar, who at once despatched two army corps over the Turkish frontier and occupied the country between it and the Danube, in the opinion of all right-thinking people an act of monstrous injustice.”
“I should think so indeed!” Phil blurted out. “How could the poor Sultan be expected to satisfy both parties? It was a regular trap.”
“Undoubtedly, undoubtedly, my friend! It was an example of high-handedness never before surpassed,” remarked Mr Shelton gravely. “But still war might have been averted, for the Sultan now agreed to the Czar’s demands, and in the eyes of Europe Russia could not but withdraw.
“Such a course, however, was far from her intentions. With this point gained, she now demanded a protectorate over all subjects of the Greek Church, a suggestion which, if complied with, would have at once led 14,000,000 people resident in Turkey to own the Czar as their ruler, and thus leave the unfortunate Sultan with merely a sprinkling of subjects.
“Turkey might have declared war promptly, but now the Western powers, much to the Czar’s chagrin and anger, intervened. Look at Austria. If Turkey were occupied by Russia, the emperor’s territory would be partially enclosed, and a feeling of insecurity would naturally arise. Therefore he is opposed to the scheme. France has perhaps no very definite reason for opposition, save the upholding of the rights of the Latin Church. But we must remember that she has ever been a belligerent power, and that success in arms would place Louis Napoleon more firmly on a throne at present in a decidedly shaky condition. Also, if she took Russia’s part, she would have England and her fleet to cope with, an item that I can assure you, my young friends, is not to be lightly thought of.
“And now for England. Ever the mainstay of justice and right, and the protector of the oppressed, she has, considerably to the astonishment of everyone, and particularly of Russia, awakened from that long peace enjoyed since Waterloo, and, shaking herself free for the moment from her absorbing interest in trade, has thrown herself heart and soul into the cause of Turkey. With the French, some of our ships sailed to the Bosphorus; and as Russia refused to withdraw her troops from the Danube, the combined fleets entered the Dardanelles and anchored before Constantinople.
“And now comes the crux of the whole thing,” said Mr Shelton, with emphasis. “We are not at war, but our interests are aroused, and our sympathy with Turkey is deep. It wanted only a match to set us flaring, and cause us to engage in a war of what magnitude no one can say, and that match has been applied. On the last day of November a small fleet of Turkish ships, which had anchored at Sinope, close above Constantinople, was destroyed, together with 4000 men, by a fleet of Russian war-vessels. It was a cruel and unnecessary act. Capture would have sufficed. But the fatal deed is done, and now I fancy both England and France are launched into the struggle, for their peoples are clamouring for the punishment of the Czar and his subjects. In any case a few days will determine the matter, and then, my lads, your country will have need of you, and thousands more like you.”
“Then I for one, sir, shall fight all the better and all the harder now that I know exactly what the trouble is!” exclaimed Phil; while Tony gave a grunt of marked approval, showing that if he had failed to grasp exactly the real reason for war, he had at any rate a decided grudge against the Czar and his people, which he would endeavour to satisfy at the earliest opportunity.
“And where do you think the fighting will take place?” continued Phil. “Shall we invade Russia, or will our fleets go in chase of the Russian ships? In that case we soldiers would have precious little to do, and the sailors would come in for all the honour and glory.”
“Rest easy, my young friend,” replied Mr Shelton, with a smile. “Both services will have their hands full, or I shall be much surprised. At present matters point to a campaign on the Danube, while our fleet holds the Dardanelles and the Black Sea; but for all I know Russia may be invaded. In that case Sebastopol is likely to be the port fixed upon for attack. Situated in the Crimea, it is an immense naval and military arsenal, which in itself is a constant menace to Turkey. Look at the map once more and note the position of the Danube and of Sebastopol, you will then more readily see the truth of my words.”
“Don’t matter to me where it is, sir!” exclaimed Tony bluntly; “if it’s war we’ll fight and lick the beggars, see if we don’t; and if it comes to invasion, or whatever yer calls it, well, all the better, I say. ’Tain’t nearly such good fun sticking behind stone walls and keeping fellers out as it is rushing forts and such like things, and turning the garrison out with the end of a bay’net. That’s the boy for ’em. Give me and all my mates a good half-yard of steel at the end of our guns, and see if we don’t make it warm for the Russians. We’ll do as well as the Froggies at any rate.”
“That you will, I am sure,” laughed Mr Shelton, patting him on the back. “Fancy how strange it is that we who have always been fighting with France, who is, as I might say, our natural enemy, should now be side by side with her, and in all probability will soon be fighting for the same object. It will lead to tremendous scenes of emulation, for no British soldier will care to allow a Frenchman to beat him at anything.”
“I should think not, indeed,” Phil snorted. “There was a chap at the school I first went to who was a regular Froggy. His people had come to England to save him from conscription; it would have been the making of him, for he was a regular donkey, conceited and all that; curled his hair and put scent on his handkerchief. Pah! How we disliked that fellow!”
“It sounds as though you had had something to do with him,” said Mr Shelton, with a quizzical smile, “for we were saying that no Englishman would suffer a Frenchman to beat him.”
“Oh—er, yes, there was something like that!” Phil replied, with reddened cheeks. “You see the beggar got so uppish and disagreeable there was no doing anything with him; then, when I called him Froggy, in pure jest, he threw a stump at me, and caught me a crack on the head. I didn’t like that, and—er—”
“Yes, you did what?” asked Mr Shelton, with the same quizzical smile.
“I licked him till he blubbered,” Phil blurted out shamefacedly, conscious that he had been dragged into saying more than he had at first intended.
“Ha, ha, ha! you licked him till he blubbered,” roared the old gentleman, losing in a moment his appearance of gravity, and beaming all over his face. “You licked him, and a very proper thing too, my friend! But you must not be trying such games now. It would mean a court-martial, or even something more serious. But I must be going now. Bear in mind what I have told you, and be sure of this—war—red war—is at hand. Now good-bye and good luck!—you are just the class of lads that England will want.”
“Thank you, sir! Good-bye!” cried Phil and Tony, saluting the old gentleman. Then, tucking their canes under their arms, they strode out of the building and away to the barracks, discussing as they went the possibility of war, and the share they were likely to take in it.
“I’m going to get a book on Russian!” exclaimed Phil, the day following their visit to the British Museum. “People tell me it is the most difficult of all languages to learn, but I may be able to pick up a few useful words. I remember now that the firm I acted as clerk to did business with another trading with Russian ports, and they had a Russian clerk. I met him once or twice, and I’ll just go along and see what he says about the matter.”
“It’s a good thing, right enough, Phil,” Tony replied, with a shrug, “but it’s far beyond me, as far as the clouds; but you have a try at it, old man, and I’ll be bound you’ll succeed. I never knew yer beat yet.”
Accordingly Phil went off at the first opportunity to see the clerk he had mentioned, and after a chat with him bought a book, and was shown the characters as a first lesson.
“Take my advice,” said the clerk, who was the son of a Russian mother and an English father, and almost entirely English in his ways and thoughts, “and buy a really good map of the country, and a reliable compass. Supposing you get cut off from the troops, it might prove of the greatest service to you. As regards the language, come along to my rooms as often as you like. I am always in about six o’clock, and will be glad to give you a lesson.”
Phil was not slow to take advantage of the offer. Every day he was free from guards and other duties, and had no engagement with Tony to see the sights of London, he repaired to the rooms of his Russian friend, and there worked hard at the language.
If Mr Western could have seen him and his earnestness, he would have been agape with amazement. This his idle adopted son? This the wilful lad who would never settle down to work, and never take a leading place in his class at school? Could this young soldier—this fine, stalwart young fellow (even he would have been obliged to admit it)—who slaved so many hours day and night at the dryest of dry and uninteresting subjects, be really the lad who had always gone contrary to his wishes, the unmanageable boy full of daring and mischief, who had occasioned the vicar of Riddington so many anxious and bitter thoughts? To him it would have been almost beyond belief. His dull and rigidly narrow mind could not have grasped the change. But Joe Sweetman, what would he have said? How he would have chuckled, with just a suspicion of pride and elation, and blurted out: “Didn’t I tell you so. Leave the lad alone. Wild and unmanageable? Pshaw! Look at him now. His heart’s in the right place. He’s got hold of a subject he’s interested in, and he’s got the backbone to stick to it, though it means a lot of hard work.”
And Phil had indeed the backbone and perseverance to continue to work at the language. A month passed, and he had apparently made no progress, and the alphabet was still almost a troublesome maze to him. But when some weeks more had flown by he could join a few words together in the semblance of sense, though he was still far from being able to carry on a conversation. By the middle of February, 1854, the year in which the eventful Crimean war began, he could even acknowledge to himself that he was getting on, and that a little more practice would find him fairly proficient. Never for a moment did he forget this ambition of his, this self-imposed task, to master the most difficult of languages. Who is there who cannot imagine the labour it meant, the constant grinding, the late hours when, beneath a flickering gas-jet or a smoking oil lantern, he opened his book and devoured its contents till his eyes were almost falling from his head? Few, indeed, would saddle themselves willingly with such a labour, but to Phil to take up a subject, however trivial, was to succeed, and that very success was the reward he received. The alphabet and more difficult words having now been mastered, the work was far more pleasant, and invited him to persevere.
“There’s no doubt about it, it is a grind, an awful grind,” he one day admitted in muttered tones to himself. “But I’ll stick to it. It comes easier to me every day, and who knows what the knowledge may do for me? Interpreters will certainly be required, though to imagine myself one is flying rather high.”
On parade, at musketry practice, everywhere he would repeat sentences in low tones, and would attempt to put the orders for the soldiers into Russian. Then, at the first opportunity, he and the clerk who had so befriended him would retire to the latter’s room and there carry on a long conversation, in which no English was admitted on pain of a small fine. Thus, as the days passed, his proficiency increased, till he was almost competent to find his way through the heart of Russia without much difficulty, so far as the language was concerned.
But a far from unexpected interruption occurred. France and England were on the eve of despatching an ultimatum to Russia, and the usually placid life of the Guards was disturbed by orders to embark for active service.
Chapter Seven.Good-Bye to Old England.What excitement there was! What bustle and hard work! Though the brigade of Guards had for long expected, and indeed anxiously awaited, orders to prepare for embarkation, when at last the time did actually arrive, they found still hosts of matters to be dealt with.Men had to be examined as to their physical fitness for rough work in the field; kits had to be looked to, new boots issued, and a hundred-and-one points attended to. Then there were good-byes to be said, for many of those fine, brave lads, the last they would ever have an opportunity of saying, for the Crimea was to claim them, and the deep-trodden mire and mud of the heights round Sebastopol was destined to form a covering for thousands—thousands, alas! of England’s bravest soldiers. And the Queen—God bless her!—she too must take leave of her Guards, and wish them a safe return.Ah! it was a grand time, and books on Russian were forgotten in the whirl Phil had too many other things to think about. True, he had few friends to part with, and in that he was to be congratulated, for partings are ever painful; but he had hosts of duties to carry out, and his services in the office of the orderly-room were daily in requisition.“I never see such a time,” grumbled Tony disgustedly. “I never get a word with yer now, young un. You’re stuck in that office or on some other job all day and every day. I for one shall be jolly glad when we’re off, and then I expect every one of us will be precious sorry for a time. The Guards makes a fine show on parade, but aboard a ship, about the size of one of these here barrack-rooms, they’ll have to be squeezed like herrings, and then if it blows won’t there be a scene! I remember I went for a week in a fishing-boat once, and spent about as miserable a time as I ever did. Lor’, how jolly ill and wretched I was!”“Yes, I expect it will take a little time to get our sea-legs, Tony,” Phil replied cheerily; “but once the Bay of Biscay is passed we ought to have fine weather, I’m told, and then we shall enjoy it. As to never seeing me, the job is now practically finished. To-morrow the Queen reviews us, and on the twenty-eighth we sail from Southampton. That’s only a few days away. Then hurrah for Russia and a campaign!”How loyal every one of those stalwart Guardsmen felt as he stood paraded before Queen Victoria on that eventful day. How he fixed his eyes on that figure standing on the balcony of Buckingham Palace, and swore silently that he would fight and die if need be for her and for the country she ruled. Gone, in the excitement and fervour of the moment, was all thought of coming misery and privation. Gone all fear of death or injury by cannon-shot or bullet. Before them was the Queen, and beyond them, far across the sea, the Russian enemy. Ere they returned they would humble the Czar’s pride, or perish in the attempt.And the good and beloved Queen Victoria, as she scanned the long lines before her, did she forget what her soldiers might meet with? Did she know of the horrors ever associated with war that must inevitably fall upon some of the devoted fellows standing proudly erect before her? Yes, she knew, and she did not forget. She knew, too, the need for England to assert herself in support of the oppressed, and though it filled her heart with grief to think that many of those she looked at, many of those stalwart officers from amongst the highest in the land, and lads from amongst the bravest, must fall in the fight, yet she sent them forth with smiling face and words of God-speed and encouragement, for such is the duty of a queen.But at length it was all over. With colours flying and bands clashing before them, the Grenadier Guards marched through a seething crowd which filled the streets of London, and entrained for Southampton. It was a day to be remembered. The masses were full of excitement, and cheered till they were hoarse. Those on foot pressed forward, and, defying all regulations, marched beside their heroes. Sweethearts struggled to clutch the arms of lovers, and wives, poor things! held up their babes and gazed fondly and with tearful eyes at departing husbands. Ay, and it was a time full of trials for the higher as well as the humbler in the land. How many of those fair damsels, dressed in all the finery that money could buy, waved a handkerchief to some devoted lover, and how many women sent all they cared for away to war and duty with dry eyes and an encouraging smile, while surrounded by their sisters, only to retire later and weep in private as if their hearts would break? God knows! Only such things are, and ever will be, when men go out to fight. But at last it was all done with. The train was off, and the din and shouts, the cheers and strains of the National Anthem left far behind.“Thank goodness, we’re off!” exclaimed one big fellow who happened to be in the same carriage with Phil and Tony, and who had just waved a last adieu to quite a number of girls. “I wouldn’t go through it again for the wealth of the Queen. It makes yer almost wish there wasn’t such things as sweethearts.”“Get along, George, old man!” another man replied, with a poor attempt at a laugh, as he hastily drew his sleeve across his eyes. “Yer know yer wouldn’t be without ’em, bless their little hearts! It’s fine to think as there’ll be someone at home a-thinking of yer; and just yer wait till we’re back again. My eye, what a time we’ll have! What do yer say, Corporal Western?”“I fancy I haven’t an opinion to give, Billy,” Phil said, with a smile. “I haven’t a sweetheart yet, you see.”“Then yer ought’er, Corporal. You’re smart. Why, blow me if you aren’t one of the smartest in the regiment, and if yer liked yer could have ten of ’em, and all thinking they was the only one. You’ve been wasting opportunities.” Billy looked quite reproachfully at Phil.“Then I’ll have to wait, Billy, I expect. Sweethearts are not to be found in Russia,” was the laughing answer.“No, I d’say not. You ought to know, Corporal, for I hear yer can speak the Russian lingo; and knows lots about the country. What’s all this row about? None of us chaps knows, and you’d be doing all of us a good turn if you’d tell us.”Nothing loth, Phil promptly commenced, and a heated argument following as to the real intentions of Russia, and as to the merits of the French soldiery compared, with the British, the time slipped by, and Southampton was reached before anyone expected it.The men at once tumbled out, and lined up on the platform, kit-bag and rifle in hand. Then in perfect order, and as if performing an every-day movement, they filed up the gangway on to the decks of theOrinoco, which lay alongside the wharf, with theRiponandManillaastern of her. Weapons were passed from hand to hand along the decks, down the gangways, and into the hold, where they were secured in racks. Then bearskin helmets were collected and stored in an out-of-the-way room, and in less than half an hour every man had disappeared into the hold, and had taken possession of his hammock.“It’s a pretty close fit,” remarked Tony, looking round; “but I expect we shall be comfortable.”“We ought to be, Tony. I hear the Guards have been given extra room owing to their size, and as far as I can see, we shall have just sufficient room to sling our hammocks and lie in them without touching one another.”This was the case. From beams screwed to the deck, and supported by pillars, rows of big iron hooks depended in such a manner that, when slung, the hammocks were only a few inches apart, while the foot end of each of the next row just protruded between them as far as the head of the occupant.“Now, we’ll stow our kits here,” said Phil, “and go on deck. I heard the captain telling the colonel that he should cast off at once, so we may as well see as much of the old country as possible. Who knows when we shall set eyes on it again? Perhaps it will be a year or more before the war is over and we are at liberty to return.”“Then we’ll say good-bye to it, though I tell yer, Phil, I’m fair tired of this yelling. It makes yer feel curious just here,” and he pointed to his throat. “I ain’t got no friends to bother about, but I feels for the poor chaps as has, and I hates to see the girls a-blubbering. Poor things! They was just a-crying their pretty eyes out back there in Lunnon.”“Yes, it’s a trying time for sweethearts, husbands, and wives, Tony, but let’s hope all will meet again, though I suppose that isn’t possible, unless we find that the troubles have been settled before we reach the Black Sea. It would be a merciful thing, though bad luck for us.”“Bad luck! I should think it would be, Phil. Why, remember what we’re after, you and me. Promotion—quick promotion. You’ve got to get that commission and become a toff of an orfficer, and I’ve got to win me stripes; and how’s it all to be done unless we smell powder? No, there’s going to be a jolly war, and we Guards are going to be in the thick of it;” and having settled the matter, as it were, Tony gave a grunt, expressive of the disgust he might feel if the troubles really were to disappear in smoke, and, turning on his heel, climbed up the gangway ladder to the deck.There were numbers of soldiers already lining the rails, and a crowd of people on the quay, all chattering, calling to one another, and attempting to look cheerful and gay under obviously depressing circumstances.Then a man with a grey beard, upright carriage, and a general appearance which did not need the row of medals displayed on his waistcoat to proclaim him an old soldier, stepped forward, and, producing a cornet, played “The British Grenadiers.”Already the hawsers had been cast off. Two panting little tugs were slowly towing the paddle-ship into the open water, and hoarse voices sounded from the bridge. The tune changed to the National Anthem, and hats were doffed by the crowd, while every lad on board stood at attention. Then the strains of “Auld Lang Syne” came across the water, at first loud and distinct, but gradually getting fainter, cheers passed from deck to quay, handkerchiefs and sticks were waved, the railway-engine screeched a last farewell with its whistle, and theOrinocotrembled from stem to stern at the beat of her paddles, like some powerful animal making a terrific struggle to escape its bonds.The parting was over. Men gazed at the rapidly receding shore, and then turning, dived below decks and busied themselves in arranging their hammocks. What was the good of being downcast? Who could look into the future? As well make the best of matters and take things cheerfully. Soon all were laughing and joking, perhaps a little more soberly than before, but still far more happily than an hour ago.“Now, my lads,” cried the sergeant-major, “each man to his hammock, and we’ll serve out to-day’s allowance of rum. It’ll cheer you up and keep the cold out.”One by one the men were served with the spirit, and soon after, having been joined by the sailors off duty, Jack Tar and Thomas Atkins sat themselves down to a convivial evening. Pipes were produced, and some thoughtful fellow extracting a concertina from the depths of a kit-bag, an impromptu concert was commenced and kept up till “lights out.”“This kind of thing won’t be allowed every night, I expect,” said Phil, as he sat by Tony’s side, for many of the sailors, liberally helped to a portion of the soldiers’ rum, were reeling away to their quarters.“Ah! well, it’s only the first night out, mate, mind that. The officers, I expect, knows about it as well as we do, but they knows the boys want cheering. But I expects there’ll be a change.”And as a matter of fact there was, for on the following day, when the hour for the serving out of grog came round, the men were drawn up in their several messes. Then under the eye of the sergeant-major one mess was served, and at the order, “Men served one pace forward and swallow,” the spirit disappeared.It was a strange feeling to lie for the first time in a hammock, but the men took to it like ducks to water.“It’s jolly comfortable, and ever so much softer than a barrack-bed, ain’t it, Phil?” remarked Tony, as he lay full length close beside his friend, with only his face showing, and a pipe projecting from his lips.“I’ve slept in a harder bed many a time,” laughed Phil. “But I’m tired; so good-night, Tony!”At 6:30 a.m. the next morningreveillésounded through the ship, and the men tumbled out, to find a fresh, cold breeze blowing and a nasty sea on. Faces fell, for soldiers, like other mortals, fall victims tomal de mer. Breakfasts were looked at askance, and scarcely touched, and soon the rails were almost as thickly crowded as on the previous day.“Lummy! How jolly bad I feel!” groaned Tony. “I’m off to me bunk as fast as me feet will take me.”Phil nodded curtly, and very soon followed his example, for he too was not exactly enjoying himself.On the following day the ship was on an even keel once more, and bright faces and merry jokes were everywhere. In seven days Gibraltar was reached, but no one was allowed to land, and no sooner had the ship coaled than she paddled on to Malta. Arrived there, the troops disembarked, to hear the welcome news that France and England had declared war on Russia on the day after their sailing.“That’s all right, then!” exclaimed Tony with a grunt of satisfaction. “We shall soon have a taste of fighting, and the sooner it comes the better. See them coves over there, Phil? Ain’t they smart, just. Wonder how they’ll tackle the Russians!”He alluded to a ship-load of French artillery which had arrived only a few hours before in the harbour. Smart, athletic men they looked, as they crowded the decks and shouted back greetings to the British.“They are said to be amongst the finest gunners trained by any nation,” answered Phil, “and I’ve no doubt they will do well. But look out, Tony; there goes the bugle. I expect we shall have to disembark.”The bugle notes rang out clear, waking the harbour of Valetta with the echo; and the hoarse voice of the sergeant-major penetrated to every hole and corner of theOrinoco.“Fall in, lads,” he shouted. “Smartly now; by companies.”Phil and Tony soon found their places, and then for half an hour were busily engaged in passing rifles and bearskin helmets and in securing their kit. When all were ready, the disembarkation proceeded apace, and in an hour the Grenadier Guards were ashore and comfortably housed in casemates of the forts.“I wonder how long we shall stay here,” remarked Phil about a week later, as he and Tony stood on the ramparts and gazed at the town. “The sooner we leave the better. Our men are having a splendid time, and have struck up a great friendship with the Frenchies, but at this rate it won’t do. Look at those fellows over there.”“They are pretty bad; you’re right, Phil,” Tony grunted, as he watched a tiny French artillerist staggering down towards him, with two burly British linesmen on either side, with arms firmly linked in his, and all three roaring a refrain to be heard in anycaféin the town.“Pretty bad! I should think so, Tony. But it won’t last. Our officers know what is going on, and we shall sail very shortly. The new life and excitement here and the low price of spirit make it easy for our men to get intoxicated and behave in a riotous manner. After all, one cannot exactly blame them. They are going to a rough country probably, and are making the most of the present time. But much of this sort of thing will play havoc with them in the end. Only yesterday I heard our doctor say that disease was far more dangerous to armies than bullets, and that men who entered upon a campaign in indifferent health were certain to go under if hardships had to be faced. I mean to take plenty of exercise, and beware of eating too much fruit.”“Then I’m with yer, mate. Yer know drink ain’t nothing to me now, and I can see as the feller what keeps himself fit, takes walks and plenty of fresh air, and don’t eat nor drink too much, finds himself better able to enjoy his life. Why, ever since that ugly old bear gave me a mauling I’ve been a different man. I have, Phil. A different and a better man. But come along, mate, let’s take a stroll about and see what’s happening. Some of those French blokes is going to do a gun drill, I hear, and we may as well look at ’em.”It was a wise resolution on Phil’s part to keep himself in good trim, for no one possessed of common sense can doubt that nothing is more prejudicial to a young man than riotous living. For a time an excellent constitution may stand the unusual strain, but sooner or later health is shattered, and with additional strain, when met by cold and exposure, and perhaps insufficient food, disease finds a ready victim, and another patient falls into the hands of doctors already heavily pressed by work.Fortunately for all, orders were not long in coming, and soon the Grenadiers were on the sea again. A short and most interesting voyage followed till they reached the entrance to the Dardanelles and dropped anchor.It was pitchy dark, and the outlines of the forts which guard the narrow entrance could not be made out; but excited shouts and an occasional blue flare which lit up a limited area, showing gesticulating figures clad in Turkish costume, proved that the coming of theOrinocohad not passed unnoticed.On the following morning the ship weighed anchor, and, steaming into the Bosphorus, drew up opposite Scutari, fated to prove the scene of awful misery to the British. That evening Phil and his comrades were ashore, and were safely housed under canvas. Two days later they obtained permission to visit Gallipoli, where the bulk of our army had landed, with numbers of the French, and, hiring a native craft, were rowed across.“Looks like a fairy place, don’t it, Phil?” remarked Tony as, seated in the boat, he gazed at the shore of Gallipoli. “Look at them things like white fingers a-sticking up into the sky, and those white houses amongst the green trees.”And, indeed, seen from a distance, and, above all, from the sea, Gallipoli with its immediate surroundings is a paradise. It consists of a collection of all sorts of houses scattered here and there hap-hazard on the foreground, other houses built on the hill behind, and the whole swathed in green patches of luxuriant tree-growth, and backed by the distant hills. It was an enchanting spot, and its charm was greatly increased by the fact that it was situated in a strange land, where large domed mosques and white-washed minarets reared high in the air, and reflected the rays of a glorious sun from their glistening surfaces.Phil and Tony were delighted with it, but as the boat drew nearer, and dirt and squalor became visible, their faces fell.“Pah! It’s worse than a farmyard,” exclaimed Tony, with disgust, as he sniffed the air. “And look at that mud!”“Wait a minute, and let us see what the streets are like. Perhaps they will be interesting,” answered Phil, with a laugh. “Certainly this part of Gallipoli is rather unsavoury, and the sooner we are away from it the better.”The boat touched the shore, and, having paid the small sum demanded, the two set off, and were soon in the centre of the town. Every moment some new sight arrested their attention, and in the excitement of the moment they quickly forgot the dirt and foul gutters to be seen everywhere. Grave Turks accosted them, politely stepping on one side to allow room for them to pass; Greeks weighed down with huge baskets of merchandise staggered past; and ever and anon a swarthy, unclean-looking Armenian Jew flitted down some by-street as if fearing to be seen. Soldiers in every variety of uniform, Highlanders, lithe, plucky-looking little riflemen, and daintily-dressed Zouaves came by singly and sometimes arm-in-arm, a burly Englishman fraternising with some dapper little Frenchman, and endeavouring vainly to carry on a conversation with him.Phil and Tony were greatly interested, but to their astonishment, though the sight of foreign soldiers must have been a rare one indeed to the Turks, not a single inhabitant of this oriental spot showed any curiosity or looked up when they passed. In every little shop or doorway a Turk was seated cross-legged on a low divan, puffing moodily at his chibouk, each and every one, whether grey-bearded or otherwise, motionless, immovable, and absolutely uninterested.“Well, I never!” exclaimed Phil. “Did you ever see such a sleepy lot, Tony? They look as though an earthquake would not move them; and the children, too, seem just as little upset by the arrival of the troops.”“They are about the sleepiest lot I ever see,” growled Tony in reply. “That old cove over there might be made of wax; and what’s this a-coming down the street? I suppose it’s a woman, but she might just as well be a sack. Ugh! Give me England and English girls! Let’s get on, old man, and see what these here Frenchmen are up to.”Everywhere the streets were labelled with French names, and indeed the French seemed to be far moreen evidencethan the British. They had inaugurated a café, the best building in the town was utilised as their hospital, and their general had his quarters in a prominent position. One might have thought that the British were not there at all, save that Highlanders stepping briskly along the pavements, and an occasional infantry-man or a mounted orderly passing through the streets showed that our forces too were represented.“It is curious to see so much that is French and so little that is English,” remarked Phil in a disappointed voice. “Everywhere it’s Rue this or Rue that; never an English name, from the landing-stage to the edge of the town. What can our people be doing?”“They’re awake. You trust ’em for that,” Tony answered with conviction, “Just because they haven’t christened all the streets and painted their names everywhere, don’t you think they’re not every bit as good as these here Froggies.”It was almost nightfall when Phil and Tony reached Scutari again and rejoined their comrades, and there they remained until early in June, passing the greater part of their days in drills and musketry practice, and in exploring the surrounding country.
What excitement there was! What bustle and hard work! Though the brigade of Guards had for long expected, and indeed anxiously awaited, orders to prepare for embarkation, when at last the time did actually arrive, they found still hosts of matters to be dealt with.
Men had to be examined as to their physical fitness for rough work in the field; kits had to be looked to, new boots issued, and a hundred-and-one points attended to. Then there were good-byes to be said, for many of those fine, brave lads, the last they would ever have an opportunity of saying, for the Crimea was to claim them, and the deep-trodden mire and mud of the heights round Sebastopol was destined to form a covering for thousands—thousands, alas! of England’s bravest soldiers. And the Queen—God bless her!—she too must take leave of her Guards, and wish them a safe return.
Ah! it was a grand time, and books on Russian were forgotten in the whirl Phil had too many other things to think about. True, he had few friends to part with, and in that he was to be congratulated, for partings are ever painful; but he had hosts of duties to carry out, and his services in the office of the orderly-room were daily in requisition.
“I never see such a time,” grumbled Tony disgustedly. “I never get a word with yer now, young un. You’re stuck in that office or on some other job all day and every day. I for one shall be jolly glad when we’re off, and then I expect every one of us will be precious sorry for a time. The Guards makes a fine show on parade, but aboard a ship, about the size of one of these here barrack-rooms, they’ll have to be squeezed like herrings, and then if it blows won’t there be a scene! I remember I went for a week in a fishing-boat once, and spent about as miserable a time as I ever did. Lor’, how jolly ill and wretched I was!”
“Yes, I expect it will take a little time to get our sea-legs, Tony,” Phil replied cheerily; “but once the Bay of Biscay is passed we ought to have fine weather, I’m told, and then we shall enjoy it. As to never seeing me, the job is now practically finished. To-morrow the Queen reviews us, and on the twenty-eighth we sail from Southampton. That’s only a few days away. Then hurrah for Russia and a campaign!”
How loyal every one of those stalwart Guardsmen felt as he stood paraded before Queen Victoria on that eventful day. How he fixed his eyes on that figure standing on the balcony of Buckingham Palace, and swore silently that he would fight and die if need be for her and for the country she ruled. Gone, in the excitement and fervour of the moment, was all thought of coming misery and privation. Gone all fear of death or injury by cannon-shot or bullet. Before them was the Queen, and beyond them, far across the sea, the Russian enemy. Ere they returned they would humble the Czar’s pride, or perish in the attempt.
And the good and beloved Queen Victoria, as she scanned the long lines before her, did she forget what her soldiers might meet with? Did she know of the horrors ever associated with war that must inevitably fall upon some of the devoted fellows standing proudly erect before her? Yes, she knew, and she did not forget. She knew, too, the need for England to assert herself in support of the oppressed, and though it filled her heart with grief to think that many of those she looked at, many of those stalwart officers from amongst the highest in the land, and lads from amongst the bravest, must fall in the fight, yet she sent them forth with smiling face and words of God-speed and encouragement, for such is the duty of a queen.
But at length it was all over. With colours flying and bands clashing before them, the Grenadier Guards marched through a seething crowd which filled the streets of London, and entrained for Southampton. It was a day to be remembered. The masses were full of excitement, and cheered till they were hoarse. Those on foot pressed forward, and, defying all regulations, marched beside their heroes. Sweethearts struggled to clutch the arms of lovers, and wives, poor things! held up their babes and gazed fondly and with tearful eyes at departing husbands. Ay, and it was a time full of trials for the higher as well as the humbler in the land. How many of those fair damsels, dressed in all the finery that money could buy, waved a handkerchief to some devoted lover, and how many women sent all they cared for away to war and duty with dry eyes and an encouraging smile, while surrounded by their sisters, only to retire later and weep in private as if their hearts would break? God knows! Only such things are, and ever will be, when men go out to fight. But at last it was all done with. The train was off, and the din and shouts, the cheers and strains of the National Anthem left far behind.
“Thank goodness, we’re off!” exclaimed one big fellow who happened to be in the same carriage with Phil and Tony, and who had just waved a last adieu to quite a number of girls. “I wouldn’t go through it again for the wealth of the Queen. It makes yer almost wish there wasn’t such things as sweethearts.”
“Get along, George, old man!” another man replied, with a poor attempt at a laugh, as he hastily drew his sleeve across his eyes. “Yer know yer wouldn’t be without ’em, bless their little hearts! It’s fine to think as there’ll be someone at home a-thinking of yer; and just yer wait till we’re back again. My eye, what a time we’ll have! What do yer say, Corporal Western?”
“I fancy I haven’t an opinion to give, Billy,” Phil said, with a smile. “I haven’t a sweetheart yet, you see.”
“Then yer ought’er, Corporal. You’re smart. Why, blow me if you aren’t one of the smartest in the regiment, and if yer liked yer could have ten of ’em, and all thinking they was the only one. You’ve been wasting opportunities.” Billy looked quite reproachfully at Phil.
“Then I’ll have to wait, Billy, I expect. Sweethearts are not to be found in Russia,” was the laughing answer.
“No, I d’say not. You ought to know, Corporal, for I hear yer can speak the Russian lingo; and knows lots about the country. What’s all this row about? None of us chaps knows, and you’d be doing all of us a good turn if you’d tell us.”
Nothing loth, Phil promptly commenced, and a heated argument following as to the real intentions of Russia, and as to the merits of the French soldiery compared, with the British, the time slipped by, and Southampton was reached before anyone expected it.
The men at once tumbled out, and lined up on the platform, kit-bag and rifle in hand. Then in perfect order, and as if performing an every-day movement, they filed up the gangway on to the decks of theOrinoco, which lay alongside the wharf, with theRiponandManillaastern of her. Weapons were passed from hand to hand along the decks, down the gangways, and into the hold, where they were secured in racks. Then bearskin helmets were collected and stored in an out-of-the-way room, and in less than half an hour every man had disappeared into the hold, and had taken possession of his hammock.
“It’s a pretty close fit,” remarked Tony, looking round; “but I expect we shall be comfortable.”
“We ought to be, Tony. I hear the Guards have been given extra room owing to their size, and as far as I can see, we shall have just sufficient room to sling our hammocks and lie in them without touching one another.”
This was the case. From beams screwed to the deck, and supported by pillars, rows of big iron hooks depended in such a manner that, when slung, the hammocks were only a few inches apart, while the foot end of each of the next row just protruded between them as far as the head of the occupant.
“Now, we’ll stow our kits here,” said Phil, “and go on deck. I heard the captain telling the colonel that he should cast off at once, so we may as well see as much of the old country as possible. Who knows when we shall set eyes on it again? Perhaps it will be a year or more before the war is over and we are at liberty to return.”
“Then we’ll say good-bye to it, though I tell yer, Phil, I’m fair tired of this yelling. It makes yer feel curious just here,” and he pointed to his throat. “I ain’t got no friends to bother about, but I feels for the poor chaps as has, and I hates to see the girls a-blubbering. Poor things! They was just a-crying their pretty eyes out back there in Lunnon.”
“Yes, it’s a trying time for sweethearts, husbands, and wives, Tony, but let’s hope all will meet again, though I suppose that isn’t possible, unless we find that the troubles have been settled before we reach the Black Sea. It would be a merciful thing, though bad luck for us.”
“Bad luck! I should think it would be, Phil. Why, remember what we’re after, you and me. Promotion—quick promotion. You’ve got to get that commission and become a toff of an orfficer, and I’ve got to win me stripes; and how’s it all to be done unless we smell powder? No, there’s going to be a jolly war, and we Guards are going to be in the thick of it;” and having settled the matter, as it were, Tony gave a grunt, expressive of the disgust he might feel if the troubles really were to disappear in smoke, and, turning on his heel, climbed up the gangway ladder to the deck.
There were numbers of soldiers already lining the rails, and a crowd of people on the quay, all chattering, calling to one another, and attempting to look cheerful and gay under obviously depressing circumstances.
Then a man with a grey beard, upright carriage, and a general appearance which did not need the row of medals displayed on his waistcoat to proclaim him an old soldier, stepped forward, and, producing a cornet, played “The British Grenadiers.”
Already the hawsers had been cast off. Two panting little tugs were slowly towing the paddle-ship into the open water, and hoarse voices sounded from the bridge. The tune changed to the National Anthem, and hats were doffed by the crowd, while every lad on board stood at attention. Then the strains of “Auld Lang Syne” came across the water, at first loud and distinct, but gradually getting fainter, cheers passed from deck to quay, handkerchiefs and sticks were waved, the railway-engine screeched a last farewell with its whistle, and theOrinocotrembled from stem to stern at the beat of her paddles, like some powerful animal making a terrific struggle to escape its bonds.
The parting was over. Men gazed at the rapidly receding shore, and then turning, dived below decks and busied themselves in arranging their hammocks. What was the good of being downcast? Who could look into the future? As well make the best of matters and take things cheerfully. Soon all were laughing and joking, perhaps a little more soberly than before, but still far more happily than an hour ago.
“Now, my lads,” cried the sergeant-major, “each man to his hammock, and we’ll serve out to-day’s allowance of rum. It’ll cheer you up and keep the cold out.”
One by one the men were served with the spirit, and soon after, having been joined by the sailors off duty, Jack Tar and Thomas Atkins sat themselves down to a convivial evening. Pipes were produced, and some thoughtful fellow extracting a concertina from the depths of a kit-bag, an impromptu concert was commenced and kept up till “lights out.”
“This kind of thing won’t be allowed every night, I expect,” said Phil, as he sat by Tony’s side, for many of the sailors, liberally helped to a portion of the soldiers’ rum, were reeling away to their quarters.
“Ah! well, it’s only the first night out, mate, mind that. The officers, I expect, knows about it as well as we do, but they knows the boys want cheering. But I expects there’ll be a change.”
And as a matter of fact there was, for on the following day, when the hour for the serving out of grog came round, the men were drawn up in their several messes. Then under the eye of the sergeant-major one mess was served, and at the order, “Men served one pace forward and swallow,” the spirit disappeared.
It was a strange feeling to lie for the first time in a hammock, but the men took to it like ducks to water.
“It’s jolly comfortable, and ever so much softer than a barrack-bed, ain’t it, Phil?” remarked Tony, as he lay full length close beside his friend, with only his face showing, and a pipe projecting from his lips.
“I’ve slept in a harder bed many a time,” laughed Phil. “But I’m tired; so good-night, Tony!”
At 6:30 a.m. the next morningreveillésounded through the ship, and the men tumbled out, to find a fresh, cold breeze blowing and a nasty sea on. Faces fell, for soldiers, like other mortals, fall victims tomal de mer. Breakfasts were looked at askance, and scarcely touched, and soon the rails were almost as thickly crowded as on the previous day.
“Lummy! How jolly bad I feel!” groaned Tony. “I’m off to me bunk as fast as me feet will take me.”
Phil nodded curtly, and very soon followed his example, for he too was not exactly enjoying himself.
On the following day the ship was on an even keel once more, and bright faces and merry jokes were everywhere. In seven days Gibraltar was reached, but no one was allowed to land, and no sooner had the ship coaled than she paddled on to Malta. Arrived there, the troops disembarked, to hear the welcome news that France and England had declared war on Russia on the day after their sailing.
“That’s all right, then!” exclaimed Tony with a grunt of satisfaction. “We shall soon have a taste of fighting, and the sooner it comes the better. See them coves over there, Phil? Ain’t they smart, just. Wonder how they’ll tackle the Russians!”
He alluded to a ship-load of French artillery which had arrived only a few hours before in the harbour. Smart, athletic men they looked, as they crowded the decks and shouted back greetings to the British.
“They are said to be amongst the finest gunners trained by any nation,” answered Phil, “and I’ve no doubt they will do well. But look out, Tony; there goes the bugle. I expect we shall have to disembark.”
The bugle notes rang out clear, waking the harbour of Valetta with the echo; and the hoarse voice of the sergeant-major penetrated to every hole and corner of theOrinoco.
“Fall in, lads,” he shouted. “Smartly now; by companies.”
Phil and Tony soon found their places, and then for half an hour were busily engaged in passing rifles and bearskin helmets and in securing their kit. When all were ready, the disembarkation proceeded apace, and in an hour the Grenadier Guards were ashore and comfortably housed in casemates of the forts.
“I wonder how long we shall stay here,” remarked Phil about a week later, as he and Tony stood on the ramparts and gazed at the town. “The sooner we leave the better. Our men are having a splendid time, and have struck up a great friendship with the Frenchies, but at this rate it won’t do. Look at those fellows over there.”
“They are pretty bad; you’re right, Phil,” Tony grunted, as he watched a tiny French artillerist staggering down towards him, with two burly British linesmen on either side, with arms firmly linked in his, and all three roaring a refrain to be heard in anycaféin the town.
“Pretty bad! I should think so, Tony. But it won’t last. Our officers know what is going on, and we shall sail very shortly. The new life and excitement here and the low price of spirit make it easy for our men to get intoxicated and behave in a riotous manner. After all, one cannot exactly blame them. They are going to a rough country probably, and are making the most of the present time. But much of this sort of thing will play havoc with them in the end. Only yesterday I heard our doctor say that disease was far more dangerous to armies than bullets, and that men who entered upon a campaign in indifferent health were certain to go under if hardships had to be faced. I mean to take plenty of exercise, and beware of eating too much fruit.”
“Then I’m with yer, mate. Yer know drink ain’t nothing to me now, and I can see as the feller what keeps himself fit, takes walks and plenty of fresh air, and don’t eat nor drink too much, finds himself better able to enjoy his life. Why, ever since that ugly old bear gave me a mauling I’ve been a different man. I have, Phil. A different and a better man. But come along, mate, let’s take a stroll about and see what’s happening. Some of those French blokes is going to do a gun drill, I hear, and we may as well look at ’em.”
It was a wise resolution on Phil’s part to keep himself in good trim, for no one possessed of common sense can doubt that nothing is more prejudicial to a young man than riotous living. For a time an excellent constitution may stand the unusual strain, but sooner or later health is shattered, and with additional strain, when met by cold and exposure, and perhaps insufficient food, disease finds a ready victim, and another patient falls into the hands of doctors already heavily pressed by work.
Fortunately for all, orders were not long in coming, and soon the Grenadiers were on the sea again. A short and most interesting voyage followed till they reached the entrance to the Dardanelles and dropped anchor.
It was pitchy dark, and the outlines of the forts which guard the narrow entrance could not be made out; but excited shouts and an occasional blue flare which lit up a limited area, showing gesticulating figures clad in Turkish costume, proved that the coming of theOrinocohad not passed unnoticed.
On the following morning the ship weighed anchor, and, steaming into the Bosphorus, drew up opposite Scutari, fated to prove the scene of awful misery to the British. That evening Phil and his comrades were ashore, and were safely housed under canvas. Two days later they obtained permission to visit Gallipoli, where the bulk of our army had landed, with numbers of the French, and, hiring a native craft, were rowed across.
“Looks like a fairy place, don’t it, Phil?” remarked Tony as, seated in the boat, he gazed at the shore of Gallipoli. “Look at them things like white fingers a-sticking up into the sky, and those white houses amongst the green trees.”
And, indeed, seen from a distance, and, above all, from the sea, Gallipoli with its immediate surroundings is a paradise. It consists of a collection of all sorts of houses scattered here and there hap-hazard on the foreground, other houses built on the hill behind, and the whole swathed in green patches of luxuriant tree-growth, and backed by the distant hills. It was an enchanting spot, and its charm was greatly increased by the fact that it was situated in a strange land, where large domed mosques and white-washed minarets reared high in the air, and reflected the rays of a glorious sun from their glistening surfaces.
Phil and Tony were delighted with it, but as the boat drew nearer, and dirt and squalor became visible, their faces fell.
“Pah! It’s worse than a farmyard,” exclaimed Tony, with disgust, as he sniffed the air. “And look at that mud!”
“Wait a minute, and let us see what the streets are like. Perhaps they will be interesting,” answered Phil, with a laugh. “Certainly this part of Gallipoli is rather unsavoury, and the sooner we are away from it the better.”
The boat touched the shore, and, having paid the small sum demanded, the two set off, and were soon in the centre of the town. Every moment some new sight arrested their attention, and in the excitement of the moment they quickly forgot the dirt and foul gutters to be seen everywhere. Grave Turks accosted them, politely stepping on one side to allow room for them to pass; Greeks weighed down with huge baskets of merchandise staggered past; and ever and anon a swarthy, unclean-looking Armenian Jew flitted down some by-street as if fearing to be seen. Soldiers in every variety of uniform, Highlanders, lithe, plucky-looking little riflemen, and daintily-dressed Zouaves came by singly and sometimes arm-in-arm, a burly Englishman fraternising with some dapper little Frenchman, and endeavouring vainly to carry on a conversation with him.
Phil and Tony were greatly interested, but to their astonishment, though the sight of foreign soldiers must have been a rare one indeed to the Turks, not a single inhabitant of this oriental spot showed any curiosity or looked up when they passed. In every little shop or doorway a Turk was seated cross-legged on a low divan, puffing moodily at his chibouk, each and every one, whether grey-bearded or otherwise, motionless, immovable, and absolutely uninterested.
“Well, I never!” exclaimed Phil. “Did you ever see such a sleepy lot, Tony? They look as though an earthquake would not move them; and the children, too, seem just as little upset by the arrival of the troops.”
“They are about the sleepiest lot I ever see,” growled Tony in reply. “That old cove over there might be made of wax; and what’s this a-coming down the street? I suppose it’s a woman, but she might just as well be a sack. Ugh! Give me England and English girls! Let’s get on, old man, and see what these here Frenchmen are up to.”
Everywhere the streets were labelled with French names, and indeed the French seemed to be far moreen evidencethan the British. They had inaugurated a café, the best building in the town was utilised as their hospital, and their general had his quarters in a prominent position. One might have thought that the British were not there at all, save that Highlanders stepping briskly along the pavements, and an occasional infantry-man or a mounted orderly passing through the streets showed that our forces too were represented.
“It is curious to see so much that is French and so little that is English,” remarked Phil in a disappointed voice. “Everywhere it’s Rue this or Rue that; never an English name, from the landing-stage to the edge of the town. What can our people be doing?”
“They’re awake. You trust ’em for that,” Tony answered with conviction, “Just because they haven’t christened all the streets and painted their names everywhere, don’t you think they’re not every bit as good as these here Froggies.”
It was almost nightfall when Phil and Tony reached Scutari again and rejoined their comrades, and there they remained until early in June, passing the greater part of their days in drills and musketry practice, and in exploring the surrounding country.