“You may, perhaps,” said one, “find the horse, but not the saddle, especially if it is gone to the French camp, for, believe me, the Zouaves are very fond of English saddles, as well as everything they can get hold of which does not require feeding; so they will probably keep the saddle and turn the horse loose. At all events, we will do what we can for you; but I advise you to look out for yourself.”
It was then about four o’clock, and I had an hour’s ride about the camp, but it was all in vain. Every inquiry proved fruitless; and I could not obtain the slightest clue to the lost pony. I could not help smiling when I recollected Dr. Hadley’s last words, “You may lose the horse but don’t lose the saddle.” Hoping for better luck next day, I returned to head-quarters, and begged Lord Raglan’s groom to give Mr. Day’s pony a night’s lodging. Making sure Monsieur Armand would be in, I went to see him. He was rather busy, but he received me very politely, and showed me what he called his kitchen, though it had not the slightest claim to the title, as it was all but destitute of culinary utensils. The provisions were of inferior quality; but, as he told me, the best he could procure. I then offered my services if I could be of any use in getting stoves or a small oven erected.
“Ever since I have been here,” he replied, “I have been asking for one or two charcoal stoves and a few shelves, but not a thing can I obtain for love or money.”
“Upon my word you surprise me! How can that be in the house of the Commander-in-chief? Truly, every one has much to do.”
“Such is the case.”
“Never mind; I think I shall be able to get something done for you, as his lordship has spoken to me upon the subject.”
“I shall be much obliged to you if you will,” said he; and then pointed out the principal things he required, which were soon afterwards furnished.
As it was nearly six o’clock, I left him, and returned to the Post-office, where a sumptuous table was laid out. There was actually a tablecloth and real plates, knives, forks, and various kinds of glasses. In fact, for the Crimea, it was as the French say, épatant. We sat down six to dinner; and had some very strong preserved soup, a very nice tough fowl—the remainder of the bill of fare was made from the ration meat. We had very good wine; and, perhaps, never was a dinner better relished, or accompanied with more mirth and jokes. Russell the great was the hero, besides having an Angel for the host. Towards eight o’clock, the party amounted to about fifteen, as far as we could discern through the clouded atmosphere with which the room was filled. Every one was smoking; some large chibouques, long and short pipes, a few cigars, but no cigarettes. The unexpected increase to our party, I must observe, was partly owing to our vocal abilities, several lively choruses having attracted Mr. Angel’s illustrious neighbours, as the denizens of the woods were allured by the melody of Orpheus.
Our mirth at last became so boisterous that it not only brought around us men of all ranks, but attracted the attention of the Commander-in-chief, who sent to inquire what the noise was about. This we considered a rather inharmonious inquiry, but found that, by decreasing the pitch of our vocal organs from allegro to piano, we should produce as much effect, with less noise, as his lordship wisely called it; though I heard the next day, that Lord Raglan, who was sitting at his door enjoying the fresh air with several gentlemen of his staff, enjoyed it, and gave orders that we should not be disturbed. Complaints poured in from the numerous tents which surrounded head-quarters. It was then about ten o’clock, which is equivalent to twelve or one p.m. in London. The mot d’ordre from our chairman was, “Tell those who cannot sleep to join our bacchanalian party.” So many took the hint, that no room could at length be obtained in the modern Crimean Temple of Momus.
At last the order took a more positive character, for the very Angel who was presiding, observed, and very justly, that they were all playing the devil with him, and still more so with his cellar, which being but meagerly stocked, could not long stand so severe an attack. He therefore begged all new comers to go back to their quarters, and bring or send the liquid requisite to keep up the spirits of the guests till midnight—which was done. Every one, like Cinderella, disappeared, by slipping quietly out at the most convenient opportunity.