Voyage to Cephalonia—Letter—Count Gamba’s Address—Grateful Feelings of the Turks—Endeavours of Lord Byron to mitigate the Horrors of the War

Lord Byron, after leaving Argostoli, on the 29th December, 1823, the port of Cephalonia, sailed for Zante, where he took on board a quantity of specie.  Although the distance from Zante to Missolonghi is but a few hours’ sail, the voyage was yet not without adventures.  Missolonghi, as I have already mentioned, was then blockaded by the Turks, and some address was necessary, on that account, to effect an entrance, independent of the difficulties, at all times, of navigating the canals which intersect the shallows.  In the following letter to Colonel Stanhope, his Lordship gives an account of what took place.  It is very characteristic; I shall therefore quote it.

“Scrofer, or some such name, on board a
Cephaloniate Mistice, Dec. 31, 1823.

“MY DEAR STANHOPE,—We are just arrived here—that is, part of my people and I, with some things, etc., and which it may be as well not to specify in a letter (which has a risk of being intercepted, perhaps); but Gamba and my horses, negro, steward, and the press, and all the committee things, also some eight thousand dollars of mine (but never mind, we have more left—do you understand?) are taken by the Turkish frigates; and my party and myself in another boat, have had a narrow escape, last night (being close under their stern, and hailed, but we would not answer, and bore away) as well as this morning.  Here we are, with sun and charming weather, within a pretty little port enough; but whether our Turkish friends may not send in their boats, and take us out (for we have no arms, except two carbines and some pistols, and, I suspect, not more than four fighting people on board), is another question; especially if we remain long here, since we are blocked out of Missolonghi by the direct entrance.  You had better send my friend George Drake, and a body of Suliotes, to escort us by land or by the canals, with all convenient speed.  Gamba and our Bombard are taken into Patras, I suppose, and we must take a turn at the Turks to get them out.  But where the devil is the fleet gone? the Greek, I mean—leaving us to get in without the least intimation to take heed that the Moslems were out again.  Make my respects to Mavrocordato, and say that I am here at his disposal.  I am uneasy at being here.  We are very well.—Yours, etc.

“N. B.

“P.S.  The Bombard was twelve miles out when taken; at least, so it appeared to us (if taken she actually be, for it is not certain), and we had to escape from another vessel that stood right in between us and the port.”