“We did, I assure you. Ask Mesnil.”
Calling him as he was riding on before, I asked him if it was true.
“Don’t mention it—it’s true enough. I have been thinking seriously about it; indeed, I feel quite nervous. What fools we were! and what luck to have escaped!”
“I never heard of such a senseless trick in all my life,” said I. “Hardly any one would believe it.”
“The danger and imprudence of the act would never have struck me, had I not witnessed this day’s accident. Let us change the conversation.”
After all, I must say it was very imprudent to leave them about in that manner. The soldiers were rightly enough ordered not to pick them up with the cannon-balls; but a hole should have been dug, and each shell buried separately: then no danger could possibly have occurred.
This plan I had en passant suggested to some of the authorities.
The next day another accident happened with a shell. A fatigue party were engaged picking up round shot, and one of the men had a shell upon his shoulder. His comrade perceiving it, said, “You have a live shell upon your shoulder, and we are not allowed to pick them up.” The man that was carrying it threw it down. It fell upon a stone, and immediately burst, wounding three or four of the party, as well as a poor rifleman who was sitting upon a rock at some distance eating his dinner. He was struck on the head by a splinter, which cut away part of his skull, exposing the brain. He was trepanned the next day; and although he at first did very well, he died a few days afterwards. Such accidents were of almost daily occurrence.
On reaching home I found a note from Major Dallas, General Garrett’s aide-de-camp, apprising me that the lunch would take place in two days. This delay gave us plenty of time to distinguish ourselves in the culinary department. Colonel Halliwell, our excellent neighbour, had left for good, as he was appointed to do duty at Balaklava. He was replaced by Captain Brooks, his secretary, who was superseded by Colonel Hugh Smith, and the latter by Major Willis. This department was of great importance and assistance to me in removing the stoves from one regiment to another. I here take the opportunity of thanking those gentlemen, whose kindness almost made me forget, as far as business was concerned, the worthy Colonel Halliwell, who had removed his head-quarters to Balaklava, and pitched his tent upon the top of the hill facing the Genoese Tower, called the Marine Heights. The Ordnance-house was his place of business and mess-room; but now and then the warrior gourmet elevated the gastronomic art to the highest pitch by giving small parties on the summit or pinnacle of the rocky mountain. This was the case one day when I called. The gallant colonel was very busy embarking troops, but found twenty minutes’ spare time, in which he concocted the most delicious Mayonnaise de homard I ever tasted, and which was partaken of by two Russian lady visitors. They were mother and daughter, of high birth, and accompanied by a Russian officer. The party had accepted the colonel’s invitation when he visited Bakschiserai. The elder lady was one of the maids of honour to the Dowager Empress of Russia. The lunch, though soon over, was exquisite, the colonel’s servant being every bit as good a judge of good things as his master. The champagne was as good as the Mayonnaise. As the colonel had to attend to business after lunch, the Russian officer, Colonel Halliwell’s aide-de-camp, two friends, and myself, had the pleasure of accompanying the ladies for a walk. Nothing proved more interesting to them than a visit to the Sanatorium Hospital, in hopes of seeing Miss Nightingale, of whom they had heard much. The former they saw, and were much pleased with it; but the good lady, to their chagrin, was absent at the Monastery. They consoled themselves by looking round her hut; but there was nothing to distinguish it from the others: it was, indeed, worse built, having been put up in a hurry. Their enthusiasm was the pure effect of imagination; and had we pointed out any other as the residence of that lady, it would have produced the same result.
The decline of the sun apprised our Russian visitors that time was flying; and they had far to go. We parted from them near the top of the Crow’s Nest, one of the finest spots in the world to get a view of a good sunset.