“We are, Mrs. Seacole, and a very good mother you have been to us.”
“I have known you, general, for many years.”
“Well, here’s a health to all.”
We emptied our glasses, and returned the compliment. The general then left, again expressing his desire to see me at Cathcart’s Hill.
“Walk inside, walk inside, my sons; you will be better there—it is not so hot. Go in, Monsieur Soyer.”
No sooner had we entered than the old lady expressed her desire to consult me about what she should do to make money in her new speculation, in which she had embarked a large capital, pointing to two iron houses in course of construction on the other side of the road. She told me that her intention was to have beds there for visitors, which I persuaded her not to do, saying, “All the visitors—and they are few in number—sleep on board the vessels in the harbour, and the officers under canvass in the camp. Lay in a good stock of hams, wines, spirits, ale and porter, sauces, pickles, and a few preserves and dry vegetables—in short, anything which will not spoil by keeping.”
“Yes,” said she, “I mean to have all that.”
“In that case you will no doubt make money, as you are so well known to all the army.”
“I assure you, the last time Lord Raglan passed here, he spoke to me for more than ten minutes, and promised to do all he could for me.”
“That’s right,” we all said.