But the Purveyor is supposed to be only the channel through which the Commissariat stores pass. Theoretically, but not practically, it is so. (For practically Wreford gets nothing through the Commissary, but employs a contractor.)
Now, why should not the Commissariat purvey the Hospital with food? perform the whole of Purveyor's office, No. 1? The practice of drawing raw rations, as here seen, seems invented on purpose to waste the time of as many Orderlies as possible, who stand at the Purveyor's office from 4 to 9 A.M. drawing the patients' breakfast, from 10 to 12, drawing their dinner—and to make the patients' meals as late as possible—because it is impossible to get the diets, thus drawn, cooked before 3 or 4 o'clock. The scene of confusion, delay, and disappointment where all these raw diets are being weighed out by twos, and threes, and fours, is impossible to conceive, unless one has seen it, as I have, day after day. And one must have been, as I have, at all hours of the day and night in this Hospital to conceive the abuses of this want of system—raw meat, drawn too late to be cooked, standing all night in the wards, etc., etc., etc. Why should not the Commissariat send at once the amount of beef and mutton, etc., etc., required into the kitchens, without passing through this intermediate stage of drawing by Orderlies?
Let a Commissariat Officer reside here—let the Ward-Masters make a total from the Diet Rolls of the Medical Men—so many hundred full diets—so many hundred half-diets—so many hundred spoon diets, and give it over to the Commissariat Officer the day before. The next day the whole quantity, the total of all the Ward-Masters' totals, is given into the kitchens direct.
It should be all carved in the kitchens on hot plates, and at meal-times the Orderlies come to fetch it for the patients—carry it through the wards, where an Officer tells it off to every bed, according to the Bed-ticket, on which he reads the Diet, hung up at every bed. The time and confusion thus saved would be incalculable. Punctuality is now impossible; the food is half-raw, and often many hours after time. Some of the portions are all bone, whereas the meat should be boned in the kitchen, according to the plan now proposed, and the portions there carved contain meat only. Pray consider this.
There might be, besides, an Extra Diet Kitchen to each[228] division; a teapot, issue of tea, sugar, etc., to every mess, for which stores make the Ward-Master responsible; arrow-root, beef-tea, etc., to be issued from the Extra Diet Kitchens.
But into these details it is needless to enter to you.
(2) The second office of the Purveyor now is to furnish, upon requisition, the Hospital with utensils and clothing. But let the Hospital be furnished at once, as has been already described in former letters. If 2000 beds exist, let these 2000 beds have their appropriate complement of furniture and clothing, stationary and fixed. Whether these be originally provided by a Commissary or a storekeeper, let those who are competent decide. The French appear to give as much too much power to their Commissariat, who are the real chiefs of their Hospitals, while the Medical Men are only their slaves, as we give too little. But the Hospital being once furnished, and a store-keeper appointed to each division to supply wear and tear, let the Ward-Masters be responsible. Let an inventory hang on the door of each ward of what ought to be found there. Let the Ward-Masters give up the dirty linen every night and receive the same quantity in clean linen every morning. Let the Patient shed his Hospital clothing like a snake when he goes out of Hospital, be inspected by the Quarter-Master, and receive, if necessary, from Quarter-Master's store what is requisite for his becoming a soldier again. While the next patient succeeds to his bed and its furniture.
(3) The daily routine of the Hospital. This is now performed, or rather not performed by the Purveyor. I am really cook, housekeeper, scavenger (I go about making the Orderlies empty huge tubs), washer-woman, general dealer, store-keeper. The Purveyor is supposed to do all this, but it is physically impossible. And the filth, and the disorder, and the neglect, let those describe who saw it when we first came.…
Let us have a Hotel-keeper, a House-steward, who shall take the daily routine in charge—the cooking, washing and cleaning us—the superintending the housekeeping, in short, be responsible for the cleanliness of the wards, now done by one Medical Officer, Dr. M'Grigor, by me, or by no one—inspect the kitchens, the wash-houses, be what a housekeeper ought to be in a private Asylum.
With the French the chef d'administration, the Commissary, as we should call him, is the master of the Orderlies. And the Medical Men just come in and prescribe, as London physicians do, and go away again. With us the Medical Officers are everything, and have to do everything, however heterogeneous. The French system is bad, because, though there may be twenty things down on the Carte for the Medical Man to choose his patient's diet[229] from, nominally, the Chef d'Administration may have provided only two, and the Patient has no redress.