MR. and MRS. BRACEBRIDGe remained with Miss Nightingale. I went and paid my first visit to Lord William Paulet, having only had the pleasure of catching sight of his lordship at the wharf, owing to the immense crowd. I sent in my card; and the General no sooner received it, than he kindly walked towards the kiosque drawing-room door to meet me, and gave me a most cordial reception.

“Ah, Monsieur Soyer,” said he, “I am glad to see you again! How are you? I have very frequently heard of you! I hope your services have been as useful in the Crimea as they were here. I am happy to say that, during your absence, I have not heard any complaints, and your system works admirably. Dr. Cumming and I have often spoken on the subject since you have been away.”

“It is extremely gratifying to my feelings to hear you speak so favourably of my humble services; and I have returned for a short time to give a look round, according to promise, as it is very important that no change should take place in the management—which might occur, inasmuch as my head man Jullien seems determined to leave. I must find some one capable of replacing him, or must take to cooking again myself till I can find a proper person.”

“I hope, Soyer, you will be fortunate enough to meet with a proper person, as, no doubt, you will be obliged to return to the Crimea.”

“I am pleased to hear that Sergeant Thompson, whom we placed as superintendent over the soldier-cooks, and the men under him, have behaved so well. He says the men have learned to cook; but what he and my man Jullien complain of is, that as soon as anybody is well acquainted with his duty, he is recalled to his regiment. I really believe that is the reason why Jullien is leaving. He says, as soon as he gets a good man, he is taken away, and his successor requires to be taught. This will always be the case, my lord, until a medical corps is formed, in which all the different members are subject to the discipline of the army, without being subject to frequent changes. Till such steps are taken, the duties of military hospitals will never be properly performed. I assure you, when I heard Jullien was about to leave, I was much annoyed, and would have given anything to have been able to return forthwith to Scutari. One day’s neglect would have upset all my former success, and corroborated the remark made by your friend Colonel Dennis—‘that it was all very well so long as I was present; but as soon as I went away, it would be as bad as ever.’ His words would have proved true enough, had I not introduced my simplified system of cookery, and my printed receipts, by following which it is impossible for them to err. At all events, I have now been absent two months; all has gone on right, nor do I see why it should not continue to do so; but I must repeat, the importance of having the duties of the military hospital properly performed is such, that all the persons employed ought to be subject to military discipline. I cannot depend upon civilians for cooks, although they are so well paid.”

“Very true, Monsieur Soyer; I am quite of your opinion, and will take a note of it.”

“The most important thing at present would be for your lordship to secure a few men, about ten, whom I will instruct in the method of cooking with my new field-stoves.”

“I cannot do that, Monsieur Soyer; I have no power away from this; but Lord Raglan, who I hear is very partial to you, will soon see the importance of so doing, and will grant your request.”

“Your lordship is quite right, for Lord Raglan, as well as yourself, has shown me the greatest kindness; so have all the officials—Colonel Steele in particular, with whom I have had more to do than with any one else.”

“I have received a letter from my friend Colonel Douglas, of the 11th Hussars, who tells me they had the pleasure of your company to dinner, and that you kept them quite alive with your funny songs. You were the real cock of the walk, and kept them in a roar of laughter from the beginning to the end.”

“We did spend a very pleasant evening. There were above twenty guests.”

“Ah, I know! they sent me a list of names. You are aware that was my regiment before I came here.”

“Of course I am. Your lordship was in the glorious charge at Balaklava. I hear that the charger your lordship rides is the one you rode on that memorable day.”

“Yes, it is; and we were both very fortunate, as you see.”

“Very, my lord. In these times everybody is subject to the chances of war, as I observed that evening to Major Peel and Colonel Douglas, upon taking my leave of them: ‘a few hours such mirth as this—c’est autant de pris sur l’ennemi’—the French soldier’s proverb.”

“You are right. How did you find Admiral Boxer?”

“Rough and good-hearted—working very hard.”

“I heard several anecdotes of you and the admiral with the Sardinians.”

“Did you? Then you must have heard of my losing four horses.”

“No! I heard of your having lost one, while paying your addresses to the fair Mrs. Seacole.”

“That was it. We had a good laugh over it, at all events. Mrs. Seacole took a deal of trouble in the matter, and found the pony again. She is an excellent woman, kind to everybody, I can assure you.”

“Ah, yes, I know her well; she paid me a visit on her way to the Crimea.”

“She told me she had spent a few days with Miss Nightingale.”

“Talking of Miss Nightingale—she is very much altered.”

“Very much indeed. She has looked much worse, but is now improving fast. Her life was in the greatest danger.”

“So I heard.”

“I hope Lord and Lady Stratford de Redcliffe are well.”

“Yes. I had the pleasure of dining with them at Therapia last Sunday: they inquired after you.”

“I am very happy to hear it, and shall soon pay my respects to them. I much regretted not being in the Crimea during their visit. The Caradoc left Balaklava the day the Robert Lowe left Constantinople; we therefore passed at sea.”

“So I heard. The young ladies were very much pleased with their trip; but Lady Paget remained there. I suppose you saw her?”

“Yes, I did. Her ladyship was staying on board the Star of the South. I called several times, but at last met her ladyship in the camp, driving out in a species of vehicle, and accompanied by Lord Paget on horseback, to whom I had the honour of being introduced by her ladyship. She really looked so pretty, and her equipage was so bad, that a Canova would have sculptured her as a Venus in a wheelbarrow, instead of in a shell.”

“Well, I must say, that would be a new, and, no doubt, an interesting subject. By the bye, we shall shortly have a visit from the Duke of Newcastle. I hope you will be here.”—“Indeed!”

“Yes, I expect him in seven or eight days.”

“I hope his grace will do me the honour of visiting my sanctorum.”

“Of course he will, you may depend upon that; but I will let you know all about it.”

“As it is near your dinner-time, I wish you good afternoon.”

“Where are you going to dine, Monsieur Soyer? I believe I have but meagre fare to offer you—a little soup and a leg of mutton. Will you dine with me?”

“Many thanks—not to-day: we had a late lunch on board; and I have not been to Soyer’s Castle yet, nor seen any of my people.”

“I suppose Lord Ward has a first-rate cook on board his steamer?”

“A very good one, and excellent provisions and wine. The only thing we required was missing—that was appetite. Though fine at starting, we had a rather rough passage for the time of year.”

The conversation terminated, and I took my departure. It was now too late to make any more calls, so I went straight to the noble mansion called Soyer’s House—a real kiosque, built of wood, very much like a cage. The proprietor was a Turkish carriage-builder, a kind of a duck of a fellow, who always retired to rest at dusk, and rose before daybreak to work. He and four bulky Turkish boys accompanied their incessant hammering by an Oriental chorus, which lasted from four till seven in the morning—their breakfast-time. We not only had the satisfaction of hearing them, but from my bed I could see them at work, through my sieve-like bed-room floor, the boards of which did not meet by about half an inch—no doubt to facilitate the ventilation of this Moslem edifice. The weather being hot, this was bearable; but the harmony of such inharmonious birds was not tolerable; so for several days, and while they were in full chorus, various accidents, in the shape of upsetting large buckets of water, occurred. The refreshing liquid at once found its way to the back of our illustrious landlord, and he changed his tone and air, to invoke the blessing of Mahomet upon our devoted heads: upon which I gave them to understand, through an Armenian groom, that if they dared kick up such a row, the General would turn them out of their house. After that we had less singing, but the same quantum of hammering. At all events, we were better than under canvas.

The house was very spacious: it contained nine rooms of a good size. I had left it tenanted by good company—viz., three civilian doctors—Burn, Ellis, and Howard—but found it deserted upon my return, by all but the rats and other vermin. I and my people preferred that to living and sleeping at the hospital, and, after a few days’ sport, and stopping about three hundred holes, it became habitable. The landlord fortunately had the toothache, and the fat boy, to whom I gave a few piastres to hold his noise, was silent. The ablution of the other now and then with a jug of hot water kept this extraordinary establishment quiet.

If the interior of this wooden crib was not all comfort, its outside was very cheerful, and rather elegant. It had the appearance of a large Swiss chÂlet. Vines grew round it; and if the windows were left open, branches of cherry and mulberry trees, loaded with ripe fruit, hung above one’s head as one lay in bed. The strong morning sea-breeze made the house rock like a cradle, and in shaking the trees which were planted close to the house, forced the branches in. Such was, in a few words, Soyer’s House, in Cambridge-street, Scutari, so much envied by almost all, except the man himself. Five of my people had kept possession in spite of several attempts to take it by storm during my absence. It appeared that lodgings were so scarce, they wanted to take it from them.

One evening, after supper, my man Jullien, who possessed a first-rate tenor voice, was delighting us with the modulations of it, when suddenly the house began to shake most awfully, and the branches of the trees outside the windows entered very abruptly, and much farther than usual, sweeping off all the goblets and bottles from the table, to our great astonishment, nearly upsetting us; when our friend P. M. exclaimed, “Who is shaking the house?” Jullien, who had travelled much, replied, “Don’t be alarmed—it is only an earthquake.”

“Only an earthquake, eh!” said P. M., bolting.

In rushing to the street he upset my Greek servant, who was entering with a bowl of blazing punch, which gave both house and man the appearance of being on fire. We saw no more of P. M. till the next day, as he said he preferred being gulped up by mother earth at one nibble to being smothered beneath the ponderous timbers of my castle. The same day the Barrack Hospital shook so much, that the patients were actually seen in a state of nudity in the barrack-yard. Several jumped through the windows; one man was killed, and the others all more or less severely injured.

Each day I devoted to various hospitals, all went well, excepting the Palace Hospital, where there were not less than forty or fifty sick officers, who were much annoyed by the indifference and neglect of their steward. When I called there, they complained to me, and invited me to try if I could not remedy it, as well as remain and dine with them. I accepted their kind invitation, and soon found where the evil lay. I informed Lord W. Paulet, Drs. Cumming and M’Elray, and Mr. Robertson, the purveyor-in-chief; and a new kitchen was built, larger than the former. A civilian cook was placed there, and, to their delight, a new steward. Everything then gave more satisfaction to the illustrious patients, who always received me with the greatest kindness—so much so, that if nature had endowed me with several appetites daily, I could have dined three or four times per diem.

Without mentioning names, I may summon as witnesses the unfortunate heroes who were at that time gathered around the invalids’ table. So happy was I in their company—and I believe they were equally so in mine,—that I felt perfectly ashamed at being quite well; for even the Doctor was sick, in consequence of the harassing nature of his duties; he had so much to do—which is ever the case in time of war. With reference to their former steward, whom we had christened “la prima donna Antonio,” as a set-off to his trickery in supplying the invalid officers with dessert in the shape of bad ices, unripe fruit, &c.,—things not fit for weak stomachs,—he used, at the request of a few, to bring his guitar, and delight with his voice À la Veluti the ears of those whose palates he had so cruelly displeased. By the aid of a most amiable and kind lady—Mrs. Moore, who some time after died of fever, much regretted by all—I had already their comforts, and, having previously established a better system of cookery, thought I had done some good for those to whom I was so much indebted for their kind and polite attention. Though I did not remain more than three weeks at Scutari on this occasion, never, perhaps, during the whole of my martial career, was my heart so severely tried and tortured.

The following letters, addressed to the metropolitan press, speak volumes:—

One morning I had a serious discussion with one of my workmen, who declined to cook any more for the hospitals unless I gave him the same wages as my head man, Jullien, in whom I placed all my confidence, having known him for years as an honest, industrious, and well-educated man. He was much respected by all in the hospital: Lord William Paulet made much of him, as also did Dr. Cumming, Mr. Robertson, purveyor-in-chief, and, above all, Miss Nightingale and Mr. Bracebridge, for his attention to business and polite manners.

I had left a hundred pounds in his care till next morning, having that day to go to Pera about the printing of my hospital receipts. Upon my return, I learnt that he had disappeared, taking the money with him, except twenty pounds, which he gave to one of the boys: the remainder he afterwards returned. No one knew where he was gone. My first thought was to return to the hospital, and superintend the kitchen department in person. Everything must, I knew, be in great confusion, producing upon the people employed under him much the same effect as the similar defection of a general would on the eve of a battle; and such a battle, too—one that must be fought daily, with the greatest resolution.

It is indeed a question of life and death, that brave dinner-time. So long as we get it regularly, we think nothing about it; but let one day pass without satisfying those imperious natural wants—what do I say?—one day! Even an hour’s delay causes us to make several inquiries—half-an-hour, ten minutes—ay, and even less. Now, suppose I had not, by the merest chance in the world, been apprised of his departure, or had I been ill, and incapable of replacing him and his subordinates, who thought to frighten me by requiring the same wages—which, had they behaved themselves well, I might have granted;—had anything gone wrong, which could not fail in either of those events to be the case, my name and reputation would have been perilled. Thanks, however, to my lucky star, although I have experienced an immense deal of trouble in my various undertakings, I have invariably succeeded in the end. This is one of the hundreds of tribulations and disappointments I met with during my Eastern mission.

A few days after my arrival at Scutari, I had the pleasure of being introduced to the Pacha, who was also Governor of Asia Minor. At a dinner given to him by the colonel and officers of the 11th Hussars, to which I was invited, we had for dragoman or interpreter her Majesty’s messenger, the worthy Mr. Webster. The banquet was given at the humble, dilapidated, and almost decapitated restaurant of Sir Demetri, it being partly unroofed. Demetri, a Greek by birth and name, was a most obliging man. He spoke French, Russian, and English remarkably well, and was much esteemed by all the gentlemen who knew him. I am sorry to say that his followers did not merit the same commendation. British Scutarians, I humbly appeal to your grateful conscience for the former.

To be brief, the Pacha was received in the same room where, a few days previous, we had vainly attempted to sleep. Our most excellent friend and ally, the son of the Prophet, having quaffed with delight and common sense the limpid liquid which takes its birth in France or any other country, but which, for all that, is called champagne, became very witty and cheerful—in fact, good company,—we all felt much interested in the description he gave of his stormy career, which put me very much in mind of that of Ali Baba or the Forty Thieves. His glory seemed to centre in those serious, though childish tales. But, in spite of all eccentricities, the Pacha was amiable and very good company. His health was proposed, with twice the number of his tales, to which he very fervently and cleverly replied, according to our learned interpreter’s report. The evening closed very merrily. We parted, and our illustrious guest left, followed by his numerous suite. The farewell having taken place, the guests evaporated like a light cloud in the atmosphere.

We heard next day that some of the party belonging to the Light Infantry were found herborizing in most profound silence upon the greensward which surrounds the Sultan’s mosque before the Barrack Hospital. No doubt, they had changed their mind on their way home, and preferred staying out to trying unsuccessfully to find their home—the weather being so very hot.

A few days after, all the guests paid their respectful duty to the Pacha. I was one of the last, and having my dragoman with me, was very kindly received by his pachaship, who informed me of his intention to return the compliment of the dinner given to him by Colonel Peel and party upon their return, as they had left the next morning for the Crimea. According to Turkish politeness, I had no sooner entered than all rose from their seats. There were about seven officers with the Pacha, and I was offered the seat next to him. A richly-ornamented chibouque was presented, and of course accepted; various sherbets, lemonade, sweetmeats, and snow-water were handed round in vermeil vases, and gracefully poured into glittering cups.

The conversation was specially directed to me by the Pacha himself. My dragoman carefully translated what was said, and informed me of all that was going on, and what I was to do. It happened to be the time of the Ramazan, and all the minarets were illuminated. I was remarking to the Pacha what an extraordinary and beautiful effect Constantinople and its mosques illuminated produced upon a European, when suddenly the following cry was heard from the street: “Ingan var Scutari!” A regular panic seized upon all present; and they immediately started to their feet. The Pacha took me by the hand; and while he was giving his orders, my dragoman quickly informed me it was the cry of fire, but I was on no account to take my hand from that of the Pacha. I inquired where the fire was? “I don’t know,” he replied; “somewhere in the town. You had better say good-night, as the Pacha must be present.”

The Pacha was now giving his orders fiercely, which I could find, not only by the perpetual motion of his tongue, but by the nervous and strong feeling of agitation of his hand, as he made me walk up and down the large saloon five or six times without even looking at me.

The horses were ready, when a fireman, wet through, arrived, and requested the Pacha not to disturb himself, as the fire was already nearly extinguished. All immediately re-entered in order, except myself, as I wanted to be off.

“No,” said the Pacha; “sit down; we must have a second chibouque, and a round of coffee.”

“Though I did not taste it, I must say I never in my life so much appreciated the offer of a cup of coffee as I did this, which procured the release of my hand, so long a prisoner in that of the Turkish magistrate. Smoking a second chibouque made me feel rather sick, so I requested my dragoman to thank the Pacha for his kind reception, and say that as I was going to the Crimea in a few days, I would do myself the pleasure of paying him a visit before my departure for England. These words being interpreted to him, the first thing he did was to arrest me again, but luckily not by the same hand. He then spoke very fast to my dragoman, who informed me that the Pacha wished me to go with him as far as lower Scutari. It was one of their great Ramazan nights; he was obliged to go, and would esteem it a favour if I could accompany him.

“With all my heart!” was my reply, as I really wished to witness the religious ceremony of the Ramazan.

Ten horses were waiting for the Pacha, and my dragoman informed me that his highness was anxious to do me the Turkish honours, and would walk hand-in-hand with me through the town. Bowing respectfully to his highness, I begged Mr. Mason (a Greek and my dragoman) to say that I should be delighted with the honour—that I much appreciated the extreme politeness and kind intention of his highness.

We then started, the Pacha taking my hand, preceded by six men, bearing five large lanterns, and a glass one with three bougies in it. Behind came his suite, composed of about ten gentlemen; next, the chiboukshis and the horses. Mason, my man, was of course close to me to interpret what the Pacha said, which, however, was of no great importance. Our brilliant cortÉge slowly wended its way through the dense crowd at lower Scutari. Every one stopped and bowed respectfully to the Pacha. Still holding my hand, he presented me to the assembled crowd. My dragoman here observed, “By seeing the Pacha on foot, and holding you by the hand, all are aware you must be a high personage, and a respected friend of his excellency.” Hearing this, and seeing the soldiers at the various stations go through their military evolutions as we stopped before them, I really began to fancy I was a great man. Thanks to my common sense, I recollected the humble part I had to play on life’s great stage, and could I at the time have obtained possession of my left hand (which my illustrious friend had retained in his own from his door to the spot where we were then standing, a distance of more than two miles), I should have shaken hands with myself, exclaiming, in the words of Shakespeare, “Richard’s—no! Soyer’s himself again!”

This was indeed a splendid soirÉe, and could I spare space, the extraordinary scenes I witnessed while going the rounds of magisterial duty with the Pacha would of themselves make a very interesting chapter. Our progress came to an end at a confectioner’s shop, the largest and principal one in Scutari. Here sherbet, coffee and chibouques, iced lemonade, sweets, and all kinds of fruit in season, were handed to us, as we sat upon the divans in open view to the public, a great crowd having been attracted to the spot.

Numbers entered and saluted the Pacha, and retired. His pachaship having inquired if I would take anything else, Mr. Mason, replied in the negative. He then said that he was obliged to remain out all night on his magisterial duty, and that he wished me the repose of the dead till morning.

In return for this lively desire, I wished him the night of the living, and we parted. Two lantern-chibougies preceded us, by his order; our horses followed; and about an hour after, we dismissed our Jack-o’-lanterns with rather a comfortable bacshish.

It was striking three, and the sentry refused to let Mason enter the Barrack Hospital, where he was quartered. I offered him a lodging at my house, which he accepted. Though very late, we arrived in time to scare two thieves away over the garden wall; and in stumbling over a basket, we perceived their booty consisted of only a few cherries and mulberries, nothing being deranged or stolen from the house.

Having frequently visited the General Hospital and Kululee, and as the time for my second voyage to the Crimea was approaching, I requested Lord W. Paulet, who was always very desirous of seeing everything himself, to pay one more official visit to the various hospitals, which he agreed to do, and fixed a day for that purpose. He also informed me that the Duke of Newcastle was expected daily. Miss Nightingale had almost recovered, and had recommenced her assiduous exertions.

My long-expected field-stoves had arrived. I made a trial with them before the military and medical authorities, which succeeded admirably, even surpassing my expectations in all respects. I was more anxious than ever to return to the Crimea, and make my grand experiment before General Simpson; and, if approved of by the authorities, to have the proper number ordered by Government for the supply of the whole army, reform the old system, and introduce my new one. The stoves would of course require an outlay at first, which would soon be saved in the great economy of fuel and transport, the small number of men required, independently of the immense improvement in cookery, which was at first the only object I had in view.

Lord W. Paulet’s visit took place, as agreed upon, about three days previous to the arrival of the Duke of Newcastle. He found everything in good order, and I was much pleased. A few days after, I was, owing to the sudden departure of my head man, Jullien, busily engaged at my forges, surrounded by my soldiers, like a modern Vulcan, dressed in my culinary attire, and in the act of manipulating some hundreds of mock rice-puddings (made without eggs or milk—see receipt in Addenda) for my numerous convalescent guests, the brave British, when suddenly my kitchen was filled with military gentlemen of all ranks, amongst whom was no less a personage than the late Minister-at-War, the Duke of Newcastle, Lord W. Paulet, and numerous other high officials—military, medical, and civil. His Grace, setting all etiquette aside, advanced towards me, his hat in one hand, and kindly offered me the other, saying, “How are you, Monsieur Soyer? it is a long time since we had the pleasure of meeting.”

“True,” I replied; “not since I had the pleasure of seeing your Grace, then Lord Lincoln, at the Reform Club.”

“You are right, Monsieur Soyer; you have an excellent memory.”

Though my present occupation was one of the humblest in the category of my art,—viz., making puddings for the soldiers, still the kind condescension of his Grace, and the complimentary remarks he made upon my services, caused me to feel more proud of my humble occupation than I did when I was dressing the great Ibrahim Pacha fÊte at the Reform Club, in the year 1846, or preparing my hundred-guinea dish at the York banquet, in the year 1850.

The Duke of Newcastle was not the first nobleman of his high rank who had honoured me with that degree of favour; but the others had a certain interest in so doing. For instance, while at the Reform Club, a number of epicures used to pay me visits, shake me heartily by the hand, and most cordially inquire about my health. These had, I always considered, a twofold object in view: first, to induce me to give them the best of dinners; secondly, to ascertain whether I was feverish or in good health. In the former case they would postpone their dinner-party for a few days, or else try to persuade me to follow the plan of the celebrated Marquis de Coucy, one of the greatest French epicures of the nineteenth century, who never engaged a cook without having a written agreement, giving him power to compel him to take medicine a couple of days before he gave any of his grand dinners, which never exceeded twelve in the Paris season. Extra pay was allowed for this pleasant concession on the part of the chef de cuisine, who no doubt turned the funds to tisane—most probably, tisane de champagne.

In the present case, his Grace had no such object in view, as I had nothing to offer him but soldiers’ hospital rations, diets, &c., composed of beef-tea, mutton-broth, rice-puddings, &c., and my new biscuit-bread, which had been made three months, having the date of baking stamped upon it. I drew the Duke’s attention to this, and then broke a little into some mutton-broth; and in five minutes it had all the appearance of a piece of fresh bread soaked in broth. In its dry state, it was much more agreeable to eat than the usual biscuit. His Grace was highly pleased with it, and advised me to recommend its adoption to the War-office upon my return to London.

The kitchen was by this time full of officers and medical men, come to pay their respects to the Duke, forming a numerous escort as he went round the hospital. I gave a short account of my proceedings since my arrival at Scutari, where I had closed all the kitchens but this one, minutely explaining all its details, as well as the plan I had adopted to keep it so clean and so cool; at which the Duke was much struck. Cooking was done daily in it for more than one thousand men, the weather being then intensely hot. After honouring me with most flattering compliments, the Duke and party retired. Lord William kindly informed me that the Duke would visit the other hospitals in a day or two, and that he would give me due notice of his visit. Accordingly, two days afterwards, we showed the Duke over the General, Hyder Pacha, and the Palace Hospitals, with the arrangements of which he expressed himself satisfied.

A few days after, the Duke of Newcastle left for the Crimea, but, prior to his departure, honoured me with the following letter:—

Messerie’s Hotel, 23rd July, 1855.

Dear M. Soyer,—Accept my best thanks for the copy of your book.

Your philanthropic labours in this country deserve the thanks of every Englishman, and for one I am grateful for what I have seen of your good work at Scutari.

I am, yours very truly,
Newcastle.