“Sight, sir!—there was nothing to be seen for many hours; and it was only towards night that it cleared up a little, and then we could see the masts of the shipping in the harbour, rolling about like a forest under the influence of the shock of an earthquake. The next day, I was put on fatigue duty, to bury the corpses washed on shore from the wreck of the Prince, and a dreadful job it was, I assure you, sir.”
“Where were they buried?”
“Over the way, on the edge of Leander Bay. You may see the spot from this,” pointing it out. “There are above twenty there, to my knowledge; but some were never found.” Thanking him for his information, I invited him to come and see me when my kitchens were open, and get a basin of good soup whenever he pleased. I then rejoined the doctor and Miss Nightingale, who were returning to the hospital.
We visited the various wards, each of which contained about thirty patients. Miss Nightingale had a kind word for all, and many a conversation with those who had been severely wounded. Having seen five or six of the wards, I begged Miss Nightingale to excuse my accompanying her through the others; as I wished, in order to lose no time, to go and visit the kitchens, and set my men to work, which plan she much approved of, saying that when she had seen the hospitals, she should like to visit the kitchens also. As I was going out, I met Mr. Bracebridge on horseback, coming to meet us. We went to the kitchens, which we found were built of mud, exposed to the open air, unroofed, and burning much fuel. I immediately fixed upon a spot to build a kitchen, and sketched a plan, which I submitted to the doctor and Miss Nightingale, who had then joined us. We also visited those mud mounts called cook-houses, looked over the provision stores, and departed. Miss Nightingale, Dr. Henderson, and myself, returned together by the same road, Miss Nightingale intending to visit an officer patient who was at the doctor’s house. Mr. Bracebridge being on horseback, was compelled to take another road. On reaching the doctor’s house, Miss Nightingale was introduced to the patient, who was suffering from a very severe attack of typhus fever. I stayed in the front room, making my sketch for the new hospital kitchens. At length Miss Nightingale retired, after giving words of consolation to the patient, and promising the doctor to send a nurse who would set him to rights.
As we were returning to the vessel, I could not help remarking that Miss Nightingale seemed much fatigued; upon which she replied, “I do feel rather tired, those roads are so bad.” I inquired about the patient she had visited.
“The poor young man,” said she, “is very ill. I very much fear for his life.” She then stated what a bad attack of fever it was. Upon this, I remarked, that it was very imprudent of her to remain so long near him.
“Oh, Monsieur Soyer, I am used to that.”
“Very true, Mademoiselle, but then it is in large airy wards, and not in small rooms, like the one you have just left.”
“I must say that I have been very fortunate through my Scutari campaign, and I hope to be as fortunate in the Crimea.”
“I hope so too, but would recommend you to be careful of your health, as I am sure the army cannot spare you.”