“What a curious life mine is!” said I, musing. “Compare the last forty-eight hours with the time when I was hanging by one hand, suspended between life and death, from the man-rope of the Alar, in the harbour of Balaklava.” It reminded me of a rocket, which, while soaring brightly in its flight towards the sky, shines radiant for a few seconds only, and then vanishes in space.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
CRIMEAN FESTIVITIES.
Cathcart’s Hill deserted—The Madrigal Club—Mrs. Seacole again—Sally the Egyptian beauty—The dark maid of the Eastern War—The Land Transport Corps Hospital—Conversation with Miss Nightingale—Quiet at head-quarters—General Barnard’s entertainment—Visit from three Russian officers—Strange conduct—Visits—General Garrett’s disappointment—Trip to the ruins of Sebastopol—A gallant cockney—A tremendous explosion—Playing with live shells—A narrow escape—A clever trick—Another accident—General Garrett’s lunch—Russian lady visitors—Bill of fare—Tom Shell-proof—Arrival of the Russians—The review—Grand banquet to Sir Colin Campbell—Grand dinner to General della Marmora—Crimean cup à la Marmora—Receipt—My grand festival—Preparations—Misgivings—Green inspiration—Great success—List of guests—The hut on fire—Music and song—Close of the last party on Cathcart’s Hill.
ON reaching home, I found Cathcart’s Hill as quiet and deserted as I did on the 8th of September, but under less solemn circumstances, for Sebastopol had then fallen—whereas now it was likely to rise again like a phœnix from its ashes. The head-quarters of the Fourth Division were wrapped in deep repose. I could not even wake my groom to put my small charger into the stable; but this had often occurred before, and gave me the chance of learning how to attend to my own horse. It is true, it was nearly twelve o’clock; for in passing the Guards’ camp I had paid several visits, and the kind reception accorded would not have failed to detain the greatest misanthropist till a late hour. I had in particular called upon Colonel de Bathe and the members of the Madrigal Club, being anxious to ascertain from that body of artists when our great festival was to take place.
“To-morrow you are invited,” said Colonel de Bathe, “to dine with us at General Barnard’s, and we will settle that matter there.”
Having to meet Miss Nightingale the next day at the Land Transport Corps Hospital in order to accompany her for the last time through the camp, I managed to be there about ten o’clock. Miss Nightingale had not arrived; so I made an inventory of the various kitchen utensils which were to be sent back to England or Malta.
While I was waiting for the Sister of the Brave, I made it my duty to pay my respects to the illustrious Mrs. Seacole; and, like a good son or a ship in full sail, I was immediately received in the arms of the mère noire. On perceiving me, she exclaimed—
“Hallo, my son! I saw you at head-quarters yesterday!”
“Did you really? I didn’t see you, Mrs. Seacole.”
“I dare say you did not, my son. I was amongst the great dons in the vineyard, and had a very fine view of the proceedings. I met all my friends there.”