“Exactly. I never heard a gentleman speak more kindly to any one. But only fancy, sir, what fun for me to try to turn the Commander-in-chief out of doors.”
“How were you to tell who it was? And supposing you knew, even then you would have done right, as you had not received his lordship’s letter, and had special orders from the doctor to let no one in, not even Mr. Bracebridge.”
“Mr. Bracebridge came two or three times a-day. The doctors recommend Miss Nightingale to go to London as soon as possible; but, Lord bless you, sir! she will not be in a fit state for removal for a fortnight or three weeks.”
“I am sorry to hear that, because I should have liked to go back to Scutari with her. My field-stoves have not arrived, and Jullien, my head man at Scutari, has been ill; so I must look sharp after the hospitals on the Bosphorus, as my principal object in coming out was to set them to rights. In fact, I only offered my services for the Barrack Hospital, as I had not at that time heard of the others,—viz., Kululee, the General, and the Palace Hospitals.”
“You must not rely upon what I say, Monsieur Soyer; for we might be off sooner.”
“How are my kitchens going on?”
“Oh, very well indeed now, sir.”
“I am sure to see Mr. Bracebridge on board to-day; and when Miss Nightingale is better, I will come daily and make some delicate broth, pudding, or jelly for her. Doctor Henderson tells me that as soon as he can put his illustrious patient under my care he will do so; then I shall require your assistance, as I consider you an excellent extra-diet cook.”
The weather having set in fine, everything became more cheerful. Small dinner parties were given by the Guards and the Cavalry. Several gentlemen, at the head of whom was Colonel Carleton, clubbed together and engaged a man cook, who turned out a tolerable good dinner. He cooked almost al fresco. Those regiments stationed close to Balaklava fared the best, as they could procure provisions from the stewards of the vessels in harbour. Colonel Carleton, one of our modern epicures, whom. I had the pleasure of dining with while encamped there, gave us an excellent dinner; and, for several reasons, never invited more than five guests to dine with him:—firstly, from his good sense as a gourmet; and, secondly, having no room for more. Dinner invitations poured in from all quarters, both from sea and land. For some time, it appeared as if the champagne corks were firing instead of the cannon at Sebastopol, as the wind was in the wrong direction, and the report of the guns was scarcely heard at Balaklava. It took me about an hour every morning to write apologies to invitations—so numerous were they, and my duties would not admit of my dining out every day. Moreover, the medical gentlemen then strongly recommended moderation and care in the use of food.
There was, however, one unexpected invitation I could not decline. One evening, as I was returning late from the camp, I met several of the heroes of Balaklava; amongst these Colonel Peel and Major Cook of the 11th Hussars, with whom I had the pleasure of being acquainted at Scutari. They would take no refusal, so I was compelled to accompany them to their mess-room and dine with them, which invite I was not long accepting, requiring at the time no end of restoratives for myself and charger, after a hard day’s duty. It was indeed a splendid place for the Crimea—the camp being still in the infancy of luxury. A table was laid for sixteen guests, who had wisely opened a kind of club in a large hut. The rations were artistically turned to good account, and numerous little extras were procured from Balaklava, particularly fish. Two fine clout, or knotted turbots,[15] with the et-ceteras, gave an appearance of luxurious festivity; and though no one could boast of the elegance of the service, at all events there were a few plates, knives, and forks upon the table—at that time luxuries were not requisite. Good health—a ferocious appetite—lots of capital ale, porter, sherry, port, champagne—laughter, puns, and fun in abundance—witty anecdotes, and plenty of songs, good, bad, and indifferent, prevailed. The sixteen officers were joined by about twenty more after dinner. They sat down anywhere and everywhere, even out of doors. It was, in fact, the most martial festival I had seen during my visit to the Crimea, and quite cast in the shade our former semi-banquet at head-quarters.