THE same day, I despatched one of my men to the Barrack Hospital at Scutari, to inform Lord William Paulet—at that period Brigadier-General of the British army—of my arrival at Constantinople, and to inquire at what hour his lordship would favour me with an interview. Upon my return from the Palais d’Angleterre, I found that my man Julian had arrived from Scutari, much, pleased with his lordship’s reception, but terribly frightened by his passage en caÏque across the Bosphorus, which that day was so rough that all his clothes were wet through. “The caidjee would not take me there and back for less than five shillings,” said he.

“Well, never mind that, so long as you have seen his lordship and are safe upon terra firma.”

“I must tell you, sir, that upon announcing your arrival, his lordship seemed very much pleased, and observed, ‘So Monsieur Soyer has arrived! Where is he?’ ‘At Pera, my lord, at the HÔtel des Ambassadeurs.’ ‘I had the pleasure of knowing M. Soyer,’ said his lordship, ‘when he came to Ireland in the year of the famine. Tell him I shall be happy to see him any time to-morrow between the hours of nine and four.’ ‘Thank you, my lord. I shall not fail to acquaint M. Soyer of the kind reception you have given me on his behalf.’”

Highly gratified at the kind reception I had received from Lord and Lady Stratford de Redcliffe, and fixing my visit to Lord William Paulet for nine or ten the next morning, I then visited General Cannon at Messerie’s Hotel, to inform him of the progress I was making, and to tell him that all appeared encouraging. I felt it my duty to do this, as he and all the officers on board the Simois expressed considerable interest in my undertaking. As General Cannon was out, I had the pleasure of seeing his aide-de-camp, Captain Harbuckle, who promised to inform the General of the subject of my visit. On inquiring for Mr. Messerie, I found him busily engaged in the entrance-hall. He took me to his private room, and we had a long conversation. He very kindly gave me much valuable information respecting the products of the country, which, he stated, differed much from those found in the English markets in quality, though little in price, as all kinds of provisions had risen to double, and in some cases triple, what they were before the commencement of the war.

“That,” I answered, “could not fail to be the case, considering the immense influx of troops daily arriving at Constantinople.”

“Any information or assistance you may require, Monsieur, I shall, as a confrÈre, be happy to give you, and will also endeavour to render myself useful as well as agreeable.”

I promised to pay him a visit now and then when I came to Pera, and we parted. It would be difficult for any one to imagine the immense number of persons who daily went in and out of this large hotel. The spacious hall was crowded with baggage. In fact, there is but one hotel in Pera, or we might say in Constantinople, and that is the one.

I next called at the “HÔtel de l’Europe,” to see Captain Ponsonby and Colonel St. George. I found they had just before left, with the intention of dining at the table-d’hÔte at the “HÔtel des Ambassadeurs.” Upon my arrival there, I found a number of my fellow-travellers, all come, as they said, in expectation of finding a better dinner than at their hotel, in consequence of my being there. We certainly had a very tolerable dinner, which stamped for a time the reputation of the hotel for having one of the best tables-d’hÔte in Constantinople. The room was very spacious and lofty, the table well laid out, ornamented with numerous fine bouquets of flowers, and lighted with wax lights. We sat down about forty, principally military men.

Over glasses of Greek champagne and Bordeaux wine, several laughable anecdotes relating to our voyage were told. Expressions of admiration at the view of the Moslem city from the Bosphorus—of disappointment at the disenchantment experienced on landing—were freely uttered. In fact, we all seemed to enter upon our campaign with most flourishing prospects; but we could not help remarking, and feeling at heart, the want of ladies at our board. Not one adorned our festival. This gave us a sad prestige of the deprivation of female society we should be condemned to in the Crimea. Such was to be our fate throughout the campaign. At the time, none seemed to feel the loss of those they loved or had loved so dearly. No; all were for war! war! and glory at any risk. Bloodshed, epidemics, destruction, loss of life, &c., were matters of little moment. The very air we breathed seemed to smell of powder. All these horrors had steeled men’s hearts, and in so doing, seemed to have banished all rational feeling for home. Men seldom thought of their wives and families, or at least never spoke of them; and if a young and tender-hearted warrior did think of his anticipated fair companion or fiancÉe, he dared not talk of her—every one would have laughed at him.

In spite of this, one member of the fair sisterhood, and the ornament of her sex, was not forgotten; and when the health of Victoria, Queen of England, was proposed by a French Colonel, the shouts and hurrahs it elicited did not cease for many minutes. Why such enthusiasm? Believe me, it was not in honour of her Majesty’s sex. No! it was an acknowledgment of the martial glory of the country; for, a few minutes after, the same sentiment was expressed for the Emperor of France; and again, for the union and alliance of the three nations. This proceeding, instead of opening the heart to feelings of love, and of calling forth the last sentiment of the kind which might have lingered there, aroused a sterner inspiration. Such are what I call the calamities, if not the horrors, of war; where all is destruction, and humanity is rendered inhuman. This was the prevailing feeling of about forty well-bred and brave military men—fifteen of whom were French, and the remainder Englishmen—sitting at the table-d’hÔte of the “HÔtel des Ambassadeurs,” at Pera, on the 20th of March, 1854. Of that company, nearly a third, a few months after, had sacrificed their lives for the glory of their country.

The next morning, at half-past eight, I went with my dragoman to the horrid TophanÉ landing-place. There I was surrounded by at least twenty caidjees, who added to the disagreeables of this spot an evil of which I was not aware at my first visit. Just fancy twenty Turks screaming out their to me unknown language, and performing, at the same time, a peculiar pantomime with their fists so close to your visage, you might almost fancy they were telling you that, if you dared to take any other caique than theirs, they would punch your head for you, or throw you into the Bosphorus. In such a scene of noise and confusion, it is almost, if not altogether, impossible for one to make up one’s mind whether one requires one caique or several. The mistake occurs in this, that they offer you a caique with one, two, or three caidjees.

As the Bosphorus was very rough, my man hired a craft with three pair of oars—the two and three-oared boats being the only ones that went out that day—the small caiques with one pair of oars seldom venturing out in such weather. We soon stepped into the boat; and, to my delight, we had no sooner set foot in the one we had selected, than, as if by a magic spell, every tongue was silent. About two minutes after, just as we were pushing off, two English officers made their appearance, and experienced more trouble than I had done, as I had with me a man who spoke their language. We got afloat quickly enough, and the short spiteful waves constantly dashed in our faces, and rocked us about in all directions. To my astonishment, the rowers took quite a different direction to the Barrack Hospital, which appeared to me close at hand. On making a remark to this effect to my dragoman, he told me the current was so strong that they were obliged to fetch up a long way to avoid being dashed against the Seraglio Point, or the chains and hawsers of the vessels at anchor. “Oh, thank you,” said I, “let them go as many miles round as they please, especially as I have till four o’clock to see his lordship.”

After a long pull we came close to the Tour de la Jeune Fille, and I told my man Auguste to inquire respecting the truth of the tale narrated in a previous chapter. The only reply he could get from the three caidjees respecting this wonderful story was, that they knew of no young maiden who dwelt there; but that, on the contrary, an old Armenian woman, in summer time, sold bad coffee and worse tobacco. A few weeks afterwards the cafÉ was opened, and, instead of la jeune fille, there was an obesity of about sixty years old—coiffÉe À la grecque—fresh flowers ornamenting the remains of what, no doubt, was once a fine head of hair.

The current here is so strong and rapid, that the waves inundate the best part of the tower. Auguste told me this place was at all times the most dangerous, and that in bad weather a single-oared caique could not cross near it. A few minutes after, under shelter of the high Scutari banks and out of the current, we were, comparatively speaking, in smooth water. But our poor caidjees were in a violent perspiration, though the weather was rather cold, and paused to take breath. It took us above an hour to cross, though you could see the hospital close at hand at starting. At last we arrived at the landing-place, which, thanks to the English, was far better than the TophanÉ one.

The hospital being on an elevated spot, and not more than a thousand yards distant, appeared three times as large as it did from the deck of the Simois; and here again, at sight of such a gigantic establishment, my courage failed me, and for the second time I regretted having undertaken such a difficult task. I immediately went to the grand hospital entrance, the residence of Lord W. Paulet, thanking my stars that I had the honour of being known to him. I was shown the general’s quarters, and sent in my card. I was desired to follow, and had no sooner entered, than his lordship came to meet me, and shook hands cordially.

“Monsieur Soyer,” said he, “we have not had the pleasure of meeting since 1847, when I saw you in Dublin,—the year of the famine in Ireland.”

These words recalled the scene to my mind.

“I was at the Royal Barracks, with the Duke of Cambridge, when you opened your kitchen in the Barrack Square—in fact, before our window. The Duke and myself paid you a visit the day the Lord-Lieutenant opened it. You had nearly a thousand visitors that morning, and fed between four and five thousand poor people in the course of the day. The samples of food prepared by you were excellent, though made at such a moderate price, I assure you,” his lordship continued, speaking to some gentlemen present, one of whom knew me while at the Reform Club.

“Indeed, my lord, you give me much pleasure by recalling reminiscences of my success at that period; and I accept the same as a good omen for my present undertaking, especially when taken in connexion with your valuable support.”

“Monsieur Soyer, you may depend upon my support; but I tell you beforehand, you will have no end of difficulties.”

“Well, my lord, with your support, a good will, and perseverance, I have no doubt of doing some good.” I then presented Lord Panmure’s letter respecting my mission. While his lordship was reading it, I was asked by several officers present, “What are you sent out for?” Lord William Paulet, overhearing them, replied, “To set us to rights in our kitchen department, to be sure. This letter from the Minister-at-War shall be closely attended to, Monsieur Soyer, and I will this day give orders to that effect.”

From this I understood that Lord Panmure had given instructions for everything I might require.

“Well,” said his lordship, “how many cooks have you brought with you?”

“Four, my lord.”

“Only four! I thought you would want many more than that. However, let me know what you require. You are staying at Pera?”

“Yes; but I intend coming over to-morrow, to make a beginning.”

“I must get you a house in town; we are so full here, we have no room to spare.”

“I’m not sorry for that—it will be a change of air—though I shall require a small room in the hospital.”

“We’ll see about that—but tell me, of how many does your staff consist?”

“About seven or eight.”

“I’ll try and get you a house to yourself.”

“Many thanks, my lord. I assure you that the kind reception accorded to me will never be forgotten by your humble servant. In order that no time may be lost—and I am aware that your lordship’s is highly valuable—will you kindly instruct some one to show me Dr. Cumming’s apartment, as I have a letter of introduction to that gentleman from Dr. Andrew Smith; and I am anxious to confer with the Doctor upon the subject of the new diets, and submit them for his special approval.”

His lordship then directed Dr. Rutherford to show me to Dr. Cumming’s office, which we reached through a long corridor lined with beds on either side, and occupied by sick and wounded. The apartment was full of persons waiting to see the doctor. On sending in my card I was immediately admitted, and very politely received. Dr. Cumming was, of course, full of business. He read the letter from Dr. A. Smith, and then said, “Monsieur Soyer, you may depend upon it that I will do all in my power to assist you.”

I then stated my plan of commencing with a hundred patients, of which, he highly approved. “The next thing,” I observed, “will be to find a suitable place for a kitchen.”

“I think,” said he, “the General Hospital will be the best to begin at, as it has always been used as an hospital. You will find everything more appropriate there.” I expressed a great desire to commence with the Barrack Hospital, to which Dr. Cumming immediately consented.

“Dr. Rutherford, you will perhaps be kind enough to show Mr. Soyer over the hospital, and assist him in selecting a suitable spot to commence operations.” Doctor Cumming again repeated his promise of giving me every support, and said, “You know my office, and I shall at all times be glad to see you upon matters of business.”

“You may depend upon it, Doctor, that I shall only trouble you with indispensable matters, and such with which it is most important you should be acquainted.”

We then parted. The Doctor and myself walked round the whole of the corridors, both sides of which were filled with patients. The numerous wards round the barracks, each of which held about thirty patients, were also full. These melancholy sights have been so often depicted in letters in the public press, that it would only be reopening an old wound were I to dilate upon them. There is a wide difference between seeing the thing upon the spot, in all its painful and wretched truth, and in merely reading a well-written description. This fact all who have witnessed such spectacles have felt, without being able or willing to describe. I must say that, in spite of the sang froid and energy I possess, the sight of such calamities made a most extraordinary impression upon me, and produced an effect which lasted for several days afterwards. At length I found a place on one of the large staircases, in which I could make an excellent model kitchen, and of this discovery I at once informed Dr. Cumming. The afternoon was drawing to a close, and being obliged to return to Pera, I was compelled to leave without seeing Miss Nightingale, for whom I had brought several letters—one in particular, from the Duchess of Sutherland.

In the evening I went to the British Embassy to have a little conversation with Signor Roco Vido, respecting the Kululee hospital, and obtained from him a list of the various sorts of diets he had been supplying. He then informed me that our visit to Kululee with her ladyship was deferred for a day or two on account of so many visitors staying at the Embassy on their way to the Crimea. This news I received with much pleasure, being anxious to commence operations at the Barrack Hospital. As it was near Lord Stratford’s dinner-hour, he requested me to sit down, and gave me the book containing the account of all that he had supplied from the beginning of the war. This I took for my guide.

The list of articles supplied by Signor Roco Vido to the different hospitals is so various that it would fill several pages, and would not be interesting or useful. They consisted principally of beef-tea, chicken and mutton broth, calves’-foot jelly, arrowroot, semolina, &c. &c. The supply commenced four days after the battle of the Alma, on which occasion several wounded Russians were taken prisoners and brought to the Barrack Hospital. They were about twenty in number, among whom was General Chekanoff, who died seven days after from his wounds. He had received three bayonet thrusts, and two balls had passed through his body: his age was sixty-five. He lies in the Cemetery near the General Hospital at Scutari. A small piece of rotten plank marks the resting-place of this brave defender of his country’s cause, from which in a short time the inscription will probably be erased.[8] Signor Marco Vido, brother of Roco Vido, who afterwards acted as Miss Nightingale’s interpreter, informed me that at that time the barracks which were afterwards turned into an hospital were entirely destitute of beds, sheets, blankets, chairs, tables, cooking utensils, or food of any description; the whole of which were supplied by Lady de Redcliffe; the General Hospital was then used by the Turkish army. This was the origin of the largest and most unique hospital in the world. Signor Marco Vido did not quit the general’s side till he had expired. The latter expressed his sincere thanks to him, and also to her ladyship, for the extreme kindness shown to him.

Signor Roco re-entered, as I was about to leave, having just written a few words of thanks. He said, “I have told my lady you are here. She will be glad to see you before dinner, if you wish it.”

“No, my dear sir, I do not wish to disturb her ladyship; but pray tell her that I am entirely at her orders respecting the Kululee or Hyder Pacha Hospitals.”

“By-the-bye, I am going early to-morrow to Hyder Pacha,—perhaps you would like to come with me?” said he.

“I shall be most happy, if you go before twelve o’clock,” I replied, “as at that hour I have several appointments at the Barrack Hospital.”

“We will start at eight o’clock, if you like.”