ON my return to our ship, I left my card at Colonel Hardinge’s. He kindly invited me to breakfast; and I regretted that I could not accept the invitation, having promised Colonel Steele to be at head-quarters at eleven o’clock. After a little business conversation respecting the arrival of the fuel, he gave me an estimate of the number of vessels required daily for that purpose alone, the number of men employed in loading and unloading the ships, the encumbrance it caused in the harbour, the room required for storing it, the number of mules for carrying it to the various camps, and the difficulty of distribution. “No one,” said he, “can imagine the immense quantity of labour that is required for keeping up the supplies of fuel.”

“I am going to-day,” I remarked, “to see the Commander-in-chief; and I intend to submit a small model of my camp kitchen for his inspection.” In a few words I explained its principle, and stated the small quantity of fuel it would require. Colonel Hardinge remarked, “Why, you will save at least between three and four hundred per cent.; for it is not the cost of the coal or wood which is the principal item, but the labour, expense, and inconvenience of transport. All these will be greatly reduced.”

“I am much obliged to you,” I said, “for your very encouraging remarks.”

“Any more information you may require I shall at all times be happy to afford; and as you have no horses yet, whenever you want a pony, let me know.”

“I feel grateful, Colonel, for your kind reception.”

Crowds of people were waiting for an audience, yet I managed to escape. Balaklava House was indeed a palace compared with the rest of the Tartaric habitations. On arriving on board the London, I heard with regret that Miss Nightingale was indisposed. Mr. Bracebridge did not think it was anything very serious. Mrs. Roberts, Miss Nightingale’s head nurse, who always accompanied her and attended her during the voyage, informed me that Miss Nightingale was not going out, having much writing to do, it being post-day.

Mr. Bracebridge wished me to go with him to see Mr. Upton, the son of the architect who built the harbour and docks of Sebastopol. On my reminding him of my appointment at head-quarters (which he had forgotten), Mr. Bracebridge proposed going the next morning, as he had a particular desire to see Mr. Upton and family. “I hear,” said he, “Mr. Upton is a Warwickshire man. His father was born at the small village of Grendon, close to my place and that of your late friend, Sir George Chetwynd, of Grendon Hall.”

“Really! I know the place very well; and to-morrow I shall be happy to accompany you, unless fresh orders from head-quarters interfere with the arrangement.”

“Your pony is ready, Monsieur Soyer,” said the steward of the ship. I sent for Miss Nightingale’s page, Thomas.

“Do you want me, Monsieur Soyer?” asked the boy.

“Yes, my lad, I do. Tell your mistress I am going to head-quarters; give her my best compliments, and say I shall have the pleasure of seeing Lord Raglan; and ask her if I can take any message for her to him, or to any one else in the camp.”

The Captain, who was smoking on the upper deck, called out, “Who caught the rats?”

“You mean, who caught the captain,” said I, “who could not smell a rat?”

The boy returned, and informed me that Miss Nightingale was very much obliged to me, and that she had written to Lord Raglan upon business that very morning.

I then started. The roads were still very heavy from the immense quantity of rain which had fallen, but the weather was fine overhead, and everybody seemed to be out. People, in fact, sprang up like mushrooms in a green field after a little rain and a few hours of August sunshine. I met numerous friends and acquaintances between Balaklava and Kadikoi. Many of these—military as well as medical gentlemen—I had seen at Scutari. Indeed, the excursion put me more in mind of riding in Hyde Park on a Sunday afternoon, than being in a distant country, and at the seat of war. For above a mile it was a constant nodding of heads and shaking of hands. As my time was short, I felt anxious to get on my journey as fast as possible. I did not know the way to head-quarters, so I inquired of an officer which was the shortest road. He kindly informed me that he was going there, and knew the short cuts, but that he was in a great hurry, and if I could ride fast, he should be much pleased to show me the way. Of course I expressed my willingness to accommodate my pace to his, and away we went across country. After riding for twenty-five minutes, we arrived near the ever-celebrated farm which constituted the head-quarters. Its appearance was by no means grand nor imposing, and put me very much in mind of Shakspeare’s house at Stratford, or the humble cot of the poet Burns in Ayrshire.

My readers are too well acquainted with the locality and the non-architectural design of the house and its dependencies for me to attempt giving a description. The well-known spot was first taken as the English head-quarters, and retaken by drawing, daguerreotyping, engraving, photographing, lithographing, &c.: in fact, it became, as well as the wooden French head-quarters, so celebrated during the war-time, that the Tuileries, Windsor, and the marble palace of Dolma Bach were actually cast into the shade, and a very deep shade too. Even cities were at a discount compared with Sebastopol. Yes, Sebastopol, pretty, picturesque Sebastopol, with its few thousand inhabitants, was in everybody’s mouth and thoughts.

The court-yard at head-quarters that morning presented a very lively scene. I found it, to my great disappointment, filled with officers’ chargers, which were being slowly led about by the orderlies. There were some belonging to Sardinians, French, and Turks, besides English ones. This sight made me despair of seeing the General that morning, and I feared that I should lose another day. Time was then precious to me.

Upon inquiry, I was informed that the Sardinian General, Della Marmora, was returning a visit to Lord Raglan and to General Canrobert, and that they would all be off directly, as a grand review of their troops was to take place the following day. This afforded me an opportunity of paying my second visit to Dr. Hall, the chief superintendent. He was out, but I was told that he would be home by one or two o’clock. On retracing my steps to head-quarters, I found, as I had been at first informed, every one on the point of departure. The different uniforms formed an exquisite contrast in the military cavalcade. The court-yard was soon cleared, and I went in, and had the pleasure of seeing General Airey, Colonel Steele, &c. Colonel Steele said I was just in time to see Lord Raglan, and I was at once ushered in.

“What have you to show me, Monsieur Soyer?” said Lord Raglan, after a kind greeting.

“I wish to submit to your lordship’s inspection the model of my field-stove, and if you approve of it, the progress of my undertaking will be greatly accelerated.”

“Very well; explain it at once.”

“In the first place, here is a simple plan of the kitchen in course of erection at the Sanatorium Hospital.” I pointed out the details, which his lordship seemed to understand at first sight.

“If that is all you require, surely you can have it done without much delay.”

“That is all; but I require men as well.”

“You shall have them—orders will be given to that effect.”

“This one will serve as a model for all the others: they will be upon a similar scale. For example, the General Hospital before Sebastopol does not require one on so extensive a scale, though the most important.”

“Well, what you require must be done. By-the-bye, Monsieur Soyer, you are very fortunate in having had the honour of escorting Miss Nightingale to the seat of war.”

“I am fully aware, my Lord, that it is a great honour.”

“The lady mentioned you in her letter to me, as well as Mr. Bracebridge, whom I know very well. I went to Balaklava the other day to visit her.”

“So I heard; but Miss Nightingale was at the Sanatorium whilst your lordship went to the General Hospital.”

“They could not tell me where she was—therefore I did not go to the Sanatorium. I saw a poor lady who seems very ill. I told her she had better take care of herself, and have some one to nurse her, instead of nursing others. She spoke very good French, and a very lady-like person she is.”

“I know whom your lordship means—the lady is Miss Wear.”

“I almost forget the name, but I believe that was it.”

Lord Raglan made many inquiries respecting Miss Nightingale, whose character he seemed to admire very much. We then returned to business matters. I expressed my desire to visit the hospital kitchens in the camp, in company with some of the authorities. To this Lord Raglan immediately acceded.

“No person could be better than Dr. Hall. Do you know him, Monsieur Soyer?”

“No, my Lord, I have not that pleasure; I called upon him twice, but unfortunately he was out.”

“He lives close at hand, and I will send for him.”

I told Lord Raglan that I had just left his hut, and that he was absent, but would be certain to be back by three or four o’clock.

“Very well; then you can settle that together.”

As I perceived that numbers of persons were waiting to see his lordship, and that messages were continually being sent in, I said that I should be happy to wait, and would call again.

“No, no, not at all,” said Lord Raglan; “if you were to wait, you might do so for a month. What is that you have under your arm? Is it a cooking apparatus?”

“Yes, this is the model of the field stove I have invented, and which I wish to submit for your lordship’s opinion and approval, by command of Lord Panmure, who approved of it very highly. Mr. Brunel, the great engineer, did the same. They are now in use in various hospitals, particularly at Smyrna, and at Scutari, where they answer admirably. They can also be used in the field, as they will cook either in or out of doors. Those for out-of-door purposes only require to be made smaller and lighter than the hospital ones.”

Having carefully explained the principle upon which it was constructed, Lord Raglan thought it would answer perfectly, and asked, “Do you wish to have them adopted immediately?”

“Not before you have seen them at work, my Lord.”

“Ah, that will do better.”

“I am expecting some of them shortly; in fact, they should have been here before.”

“Well, you had better make inquiries about them, or they may be delayed somewhere, as this happens almost every day.”

Several gentlemen were present when I explained the principle of the stove, in which Lord Raglan seemed much interested, showing the model and taking the trouble to explain its principle to them himself. Colonel Symonds said, “Monsieur Soyer, I will go and fetch his Excellency Omer Pacha; he is much interested in this kind of thing.”

“Do, Colonel,” said Lord Raglan. Then turning to me: “I am much pleased with what I have seen, and have no doubt those stoves will prove a great boon to the army; but mind, they must not be made too heavy, and they must be adapted for companies. Neither must you forget the smaller ones which I mentioned to you, for picket and outpost duty.” Omer Pacha entered. “Now,” said Lord Raglan, “form your own opinion of Soyer’s field stove, and let me know what you think of it.”

“Monsieur Soyer,” said Omer Pacha, “what have you good to eat there?”

“Nothing at present, your Excellency; but by-and-by, when my plans are adopted, we shall be able to cook for and feed the army with ease.”

“Ah, this is a matter of great importance. Pray explain your plans to me.” When I had done this, Omer Pacha said, “It will first be necessary to have something to cook.”

The truth of the observation I respectfully admitted, with a low bow, adding, “Your Excellency is right; but as the probability is that something to be cooked never yet entirely failed, and in expectation of better times coming, we confidently hope that the provisions for the army will shortly be on the increase instead of the decrease. This hope has induced me to invent this apparatus, of which, when its principle has been fully explained, I have no doubt you will, with Lord Raglan, approve.”

“Monsieur Soyer, I have no doubt that, as regards cooking, you are a very clever man; but if you could manage to cook a dinner out of nothing, you would be more clever still.”

“Not having tried the experiment, I really cannot say whether I could do so or not; but I will try, and then report progress to your Excellency.”

A hearty laugh from all present terminated this petite plaisanterie. This brought to my mind the story of a very promising schoolboy, who, when asked by a learned man whether he could speak Latin, replied, “I cannot tell, sir.”

“Why can’t you tell, my boy?”

“Because I never tried, sir,” was the answer.

“At all events,” I continued, addressing Omer Pacha, “you will perceive that if I cannot make something out of nothing, I am able to do a great deal with a little, which in war-time is a very important matter.”

“Very true; but pray show me the interior of this little model.”

Having shown and explained the apparatus, Omer Pacha admitted its practicability, and, after giving me a few hints on the Turkish system of camp cookery, retired, followed by his staff, wishing me every success. Lord Raglan met Omer Pacha in the passage, and they exchanged a few words, which I could hear bore reference to the subject we had discussed. I was leaving, when Lord Raglan re-entered.

“So you are going, Monsieur Soyer?”

“Yes, my Lord. I fear my visit has been too long.”

“No, not at all—this is rather a quiet day, and before you go I wish you would be kind enough to look at my kitchen.”

“I shall be most happy to do so.”

“Do you know my cook?—his name is Armand—he is not a cordon bleu, but he is a good man, and does his best with what he can get.”

“The French proverb À la guerre comme À la guerre is very applicable to the circumstances—nay, rather too much so to permit one to hope to obtain a good dinner.”

“Very true,” said Lord Raglan; “and we are really so tired of those preserved meats.”

“Indeed; but some of them are not bad.”

“The great fault is, that the meat is always overdone. How do you account for that, Monsieur Soyer?”

“If it were not so, they would not keep. When I was sent for to Deptford to report upon Golding’s preserved meats—which, no doubt, your lordship recollects——“

“I do, indeed; they were too bad to be forgotten.”

“I assure your lordship the fault was more in the cooking than in the bad quality of the meat—some of which I found in a state of liquid putrefaction. No doubt, the meat was not of prime quality, and many improper things were introduced. Nevertheless, if the articles had been properly preserved, they would have been found as sweet when taken out as when they were put in. For example, the entrails of any animal might be enclosed in these tin cases in the state in which they came from the animal, and, if well preserved, upon opening them a couple of years after, they would be found pretty much in their original state, excepting being slightly discoloured by the cooking—but whole, and not in a liquid state, as those were. The meat was, therefore, either not cooked enough, or some atmospheric air had remained in it which caused putrefaction.”

“Could not any other way of preserving be introduced?”

“Many experiments have been tried, but almost all proved unsuccessful. I, at one time, made several myself, the results of some of which I submitted to Captain Miles, Admiral Berkeley, Sir Charles Napier, &c., and they were found very good. They were then about a month old, but the time the government wished for the test was a twelvemonth. I was certain they would keep any length of time, but as I was then very much engaged at the Reform Club, and also writing my cookery-book, The Modern Housewife, I did not pursue it further. The principal improvement in my method was the omission of the liquids previously introduced, either broth or water. I only put the meat in well seasoned, and left it to cook slowly in its own gravy; and when opened, it turned out surrounded by a firm jelly, and cut solid.”

“I should advise you to turn your immediate attention to that subject.”

“I will, my Lord, as soon as time permits. I shall now go and see your kitchen, and pay a visit to your chef de cuisine.”

“Pray do, and see whether you can contrive to improve it. I believe it is a very bad one, for he is always complaining. When you return, lunch will be upon the table, and you can take some refreshment.”

Thanking Lord Raglan for his extreme kindness, I took my leave. I was anxious to see Colonel Steele, to inform him of the result of my interview; but as he was out, I proceeded to the kitchen, which was some distance from the house, across the courtyard. The chef had gone to Kamiesch to market: I therefore postponed my visit, and returned to the dining-room to take some refreshment. Afterwards I went in search of Doctor Hall, whom at last I had the good fortune to find at home, if such a small place could be called a home. It was about ten feet square, and the height of a sentry-box, affording about enough room for four persons to stand up in, and only for two to sit down. This petit chÂlet was for all that nicely furnished, and the spot where most of the hospital business was transacted both for the East and the Crimea, it being the general head-quarters for the various medical departments. Such was the habitation, office, and chÂteau of the present Sir John Hall.

At the door I was received by his major-domo, a Frenchman named Louis, a very intelligent man, and one as well known in the camp from his extraordinary look, shrewdness, eccentricity, and style of riding, as the doctor himself. On alighting, Louis took my horse by the bridle, and walking to the entrance, introduced me to the doctor, who was very busy writing. He got up and requested me to enter, which I did.

“Pray be seated, Monsieur Soyer—I am very happy to see you. I heard of your arrival, and also of your former visits.”

“To-day, doctor, I have been more fortunate.”

“You see, Monsieur Soyer, I have so many places to visit every day, particularly in the morning, that I am very seldom at home.”

I could but smile at the word “home,” which, as my readers will understand by my description, was but a humble one. Such was the general amount of luxury in the establishments in the Crimea.

“As I am aware, doctor, of the value of your time, do not let me disturb you in the least. A few minutes will settle our business. First of all, I have a letter of introduction from Dr. Cumming.”

“Let me see it.”

It contained only a few lines, and was to the following effect:—

When Dr. Hall had read the letter, and expressed his satisfaction at the contents, I related the result of my interview with the Commander-in-chief, and my desire to visit the camp hospitals with the doctor at his earliest convenience. Dr. Hall immediately fixed the next day for the purpose, and kindly offered to send a pony for me about eight the next morning.

After having exchanged the usual compliments, we parted. Before I left, the doctor called Louis and gave him the order for the pony. As it was only three o’clock, and I had a few hours to spare, I felt inclined to visit the French camp, in order to compare their system of cooking with that in use among the English, as well as to make some inquiries about their provisions.

The French head-quarters did not bear the slightest resemblance to the English. The pile was entirely constructed of wood, and thus gave a wide scope to the architects to distinguish themselves in the modern science of joining and building, and to render as convenient and comfortable as possible this seat of important business transactions. It was in fact a well-built village, of which the General-in-chief was the lord; and, though not gaudy, still luxuriously comfortable, with every department distinct and well arranged. This was, to a certain extent, the case at the English head-quarters, but a farm did not afford sufficient space and accommodation. At the commencement of the campaign, it was no uncommon thing for a general to rest from the fatigues of war in a small dilapidated room, something like a good-sized English pig-sty.

The French head-quarters, like the English, were surrounded by the staff and principal business offices, which, though answering the same purpose, presented quite a different appearance. In the arrangement of the offices and the manners of the inhabitants, one could in fact distinguish France from England, and England from France.

The vicinity was well guarded—several regiments being encamped round that select group of habitations. It was only with a silver key one could open the doors of the field kitchens and popottes, which key was always to be found at the regimental canteen. A few bottles of wine, glasses of absinthe or vermouth, were enough to initiate me in less than two hours in all that I required to know relating to my mission.

After settling my account with three or four coquettish and cavalier-like vivandiÈres, wishing them all the commercial prosperity imaginable, and shaking hands with several companies of the various regiments, including those of the Imperial Guard, who had just arrived, I cheerfully retired with the gratification of having conquered a portion of the Élite of the French armies—of course, I only mean in pure friendship. Moreover, I gained most honourable titles, from lieutenant to captain, colonel, and now and then general. At all events, my passport through that important part of the French camp was signed by several hundreds of those brave fellows, as well as by innumerable smiles from the fair and dark heroines, the cantiniÈres of the first French division. With a promise to return soon, I retired, having experienced much gratification and enriched my budget of anecdote.

In this interesting visit to the French camp, head-quarters, canteens, &c., and becoming well acquainted with the officers’ and soldiers’ popottes—which name I immediately added to my gastronomic bill of fare—the three hours I had to spare nearly expired. The sun was rapidly descending to the level of the ocean in the direction of Kamiesch.

Having paid my bill at the canteen, and shaken hands with nearly a whole regiment, I jumped on my pony and galloped all the way home, perfectly satisfied with my day’s work, which at the time I felt was one of the most interesting of my life.