“I am aware they do that, Monsieur Soyer.”
“Be kind enough to favour me with the name of the doctor.”
“His name is Dr. Taylor; he will be glad to see you, Monsieur Soyer,” said Miss Nightingale, smiling. “I can assure you he is a great cook, and manages his own kitchen. He comes down here two or three times every day. He is attending a board this morning, or he would certainly have been here.”
“If that is the case, we shall have no difficulty in understanding each other. I will do myself the pleasure of calling upon him.”
“You will be sure to find him in his office at nine o’clock to-morrow,” said Dr. Macgregor. We then crossed the yard to the general kitchen, as Miss Nightingale called it. Upon entering it, I found, to my surprise, a superb kitchen, built, I believe, by the Turks, and fitted up with twenty copper boilers, set in white marble, holding about fifty gallons each. About sixteen soldier cooks were employed cleaning the boilers, to make the tea, as the men’s dinners had just been served.
“This is a magnificent kitchen,” I observed to Miss Nightingale. “I was not aware there was anything of the kind here.”
“So it is, Monsieur Soyer; but see how badly everything is managed.”
“Well, this can be remedied.”
On going to the top of the marble steps, about eight in number, I perceived that every boiler was made of yellow copper, and screwed to its marble bed. I immediately inquired about the tinning, as I perceived the boilers were much in want of this. Copper is, as I have before remarked, the worst metal which could possibly be employed for hospital uses. I took notes of all, and having inquired of the men how they cooked the patients’ dinners, I told them to go on as usual; and that I would be with them at seven the next morning, to put them in the right way. As it was getting late, I was about taking my departure, when Miss Nightingale informed me that there was a similar kitchen on the other side of the yard, and advised me to go and see it.
“Like this one, do you say, Mademoiselle?”