An accomplished linguist—Le Petit Champ des Morts—Bird’s-eye view—Breakfast table of the hotel—English Embassy—Interview with Lady Stratford de Redcliffe—The sanctuary of high diplomacy—Lord Stratford de Redcliffe—Signor Roco Vido—His apartment—Importance of a good dinner—Lord Stratford’s diplomatic banquet postponed—Probable consequences—Quotation from the Gastronomic Regenerator.
THE rays of the sun on that showery March day assumed, towards five p.m., in the regions of the West, a most brilliant aspect. The vaporous edges of the humid clouds seemed gilded with vermilion and silver tints. The floods of light, like living fire, fell upon the rich masses of the domes of various mosques, and hundreds of pointed and slender minarets. While gazing in loneliness and contemplation, from the terrace of the Hôtel des Ambassadeurs, at this charming spot in the East, to which the beautiful mirage of an Oriental sunset lent an indescribable charm, a shrieking voice was heard from the lower terrace, saying, “Il signor, la table d’outre est servi! et il se refroidit fortement! La soupe il étoit tout à fait déménagée of the tureen!” Looking over the railing, I perceived the interpreter of the hotel, who was unfortunately the possessor of several tongues, addressing himself to me. He, no doubt, meant to imply that the table-d’hôte had been served, and the soup already removed from the table. This olla podrida of languages having produced no effect upon my mind, half an hour after, the son of the hotel-keeper made his appearance, who, though speaking French like certain horned beasts in Spain, clearly gave me to understand that I was too late for dinner. Taking advantage of his unexpected visit, I inquired, looking towards the arsenal, “What part of the metropolis is that opening near us?”
“Le Petit Champ des Morts, or the Small Field of the Dead,—so-called, though nearly two miles in circumference, which is now so full that no further interments are allowed within its area,”—he replied.
By the aid of an opera-glass, I plainly distinguished beneath us a large pile of irregular stones, encircled by a railing. I, at first sight, took this for the ruins of a kind of hippodrome which might have succumbed to an earthquake, each stone having lost its perpendicular, as though purposely to mock its fellow, and not making the slightest attempt to perpetuate the grandeur of their solemn mission. Horses, mules, and donkeys, were seen dragging loads of large planks to and fro, six or eight on either side. The ends of the planks kept cutting rather deep zig-zags into the soft ground, and were continually catching against tombstones. The whole formed a kind of gigantic American bagatelle board, where, when the ball is violently thrown to the top, it descends by degrees, catching the points in every direction in its way down. Next to it music was heard. Boys were romping, some playing with marbles, or five para pieces, making use of the stones for their point of departure. Lemonade, cakes, raki, and variegated bonbons, oranges, lemons, &c., were briskly purchased by the promenaders, who, amongst this cohue-bohue of industry, were seen gaily crossing and recrossing the green paths. Some reclined against the grave-stones, forming, as it were, an arm-chair. Amongst them, however, were but few Mussulmans, some turning Dervishes and Howlers, Greeks, Armenians, French, Perotes, Smyrniotes, and here and there gazing with astonishing disapprobation, some of the children of Albion. All excepting the latter might be seen gaily fluttering from tombstone to tombstone, like busy bees from flower to flower, in a perfumed pasture in summer. Here and there clumps of cypress trees looked like the mournful guardians of this desecrated spot. Some of the marble stones are still vividly stained with the blood of the haughty and rebellious Janissaries, whose crumbling bodies lay beneath. Such is the pious veneration of the Oriental population for the remains of their ancestors in the Petit Champ des Morts at Pera.
The principal buildings which grace this foreign quarter are the English, French, Austrian, Russian, Sardinian, and Prussian embassies. The former, called the Palais d’Angleterre, now the residence of Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, interested me most, as I was in duty bound to pay my humble respects to his lordship and her ladyship the next morning. It brought to my mind from a distance the celebrated building of the Reform Club, which gave Barry his high reputation as an architect, and where your humble servant passed above two lustres of his culinary career.
While the new moon was faintly shining through transparent clouds, the hundred minarets of Stamboul and its vicinity had been illuminated for a festival, and their fiery collarettes à la Vandyke proudly carried those rings of diamonds high towards the heavenly sphere. Eight o’clock was striking at the Catholic church of Saint Mary. All was darkness and silence. Hastily retiring to my bed-room, perfectly satisfied with having fed my mind, although I had probably neglected internal restoration, I soon fell into a most profound slumber, in which I saw nothing but churchyards, clumps of cypress trees, mosques, and illuminated minarets, till I awoke at daybreak.
My wandering mind having fluttered all night about the Oriental metropolis, I was not in the slightest degree surprised to find myself in the morning in the land which had given birth to the Arabian Nights. The sound of a cracked bell was heard from the bottom of the staircase, inviting each traveller to his morning meal. There was a goodly number present, and we sat down about thirty-five. The majority were military men, of various ranks, mostly French and English. Some expressed their regret at my absence the previous evening, fancying—so much for imagination—the dinner would have been more choice had the landlord been personally acquainted with me. At all events, the breakfast-table was well supplied, and I made a hearty meal, amidst the buzzing of various languages.
As it was nearly eleven o’clock by the time I had finished, I started for the Embassy, and after about twenty minutes of most laborious gymnastic exercise over the ill-paved Rue (Ruelle it should be called) de Pera, I entered the small wooden gate at the grand entrance of the Palais d’Angleterre, which is majestically located in a fine open space of ground, encircled by a large terrace, with parterres of shrubs and high trees, from which spot a most favourable view of the rich mass of building around is obtained. Modest grandeur, boldness, and simplicity of execution, seem to have been the architect’s sole ambition. I shall probably, in another chapter, describe the beauty and comfort of its interior. The porter having taken my card, I was immediately shown into the library. A few moments spent in this sanctuary of belles lettres afforded me a fair opportunity of closely examining a very excellent and well-executed painting, the style of which assured me that it was a good portrait of his Sublime Majesty, the present Sultan, Abdul Medjid. Ten minutes had scarcely elapsed, when Lady Stratford entered, and addressed me in French, with a smile of welcome difficult to forget. “Well, Monsieur Soyer, we heard of your departure from England for the East.”
“No doubt you did, my lady.”
“And I sincerely hope that you will succeed in your laudable undertaking. I have no doubt your suggestions will prove highly beneficial, and be well received by the authorities at the various hospitals, which, in your department, are much in want of some kind of regulation. I also hope that the Minister-at-War has invested you with power to act according to your own judgment.”
“I am happy to inform your ladyship,” said I, “that her Majesty’s Government has not only granted me the power required to superintend and, if possible, improve the diet at the Hospital, but have also honoured me with their full confidence as regards ordering anything extra which may be required, so long as it tends to the comfort of the sick.’
“Well, I am very happy to hear that such is the case,” replied her ladyship; “for without such power your services would not have been so effective.”
“I can assure your ladyship that I would not have undertaken this task if such powers had not been granted to me by Lord Panmure. I was well aware of the numerous difficulties I should meet with, which are almost unavoidable in every kind of administration. But so highly do I appreciate the honour conferred upon me, that, far from taking advantage of the unlimited confidence reposed in me, it will be my pride to try and make all my contemplated improvements with the present governmental allowance; and I have no doubt that in time, by judicious organization and good management, as well as by using everything to the best advantage, I shall economize, instead of increasing the expense to the nation. Having heard that your ladyship has, from the commencement of this serious war, devoted the best part of your time to the various hospitals, in watching over the sick and wounded, I shall esteem it a great favour if you will direct me how to act, in order to insure prompt success, and what articles of diet are most required for the patients.”
“It will afford me great pleasure, Monsieur Soyer, to give you the principal information; but Signor Roco Vido, my head manager and cook, will furnish the details, as he daily prepares large quantities of comforts,—such as beef-tea, mutton and chicken broth, calves’-foot jelly, &c., &c.,—and distributes them himself at the Barrack and General Hospitals, also at Hyder Pacha, where the officers are.”
“Indeed, my lady. Such information from Signor Roco would be invaluable to me.”
“Very well; I will send for him.”
“I beg your ladyship’s pardon, but I always understood that the hospitals were on the other side the Bosphorus.”
“Yes, Monsieur Soyer, the great military ones are; but as at the beginning of the campaign, after the battle of the Alma, none of them had extra diet kitchens, we prepare food here and send it over.”
“I understand that the Bosphorus is sometimes so rough that no one can cross it.”
“Such is the case; but we have a good-sized caique, and I can assure you that, although it is so very dangerous, it has never missed going one day; and since the battle of Inkermann, it often goes to Kululee, where we have opened another hospital, nearly three miles from this. Before you see Signor Roco, if you will follow me, I will inquire whether Lord Stratford is disengaged, as I have no doubt he will be pleased to see you.”
“I am your ladyship’s most humble servant,” was my reply.
After walking over the best part of the grand square gallery, and crossing before the magnificent marble hall and gigantic staircase, we ascended to a loftier story. A gentle tap at the door gained us admittance to the sanctuary of high diplomacy. A plain screen was all the furniture to be seen. A few words from her ladyship soon brought me in communication with his Excellency, who, though much engaged (being surrounded by mountains of official papers), received me in a most cheerful and friendly manner. After I had said a few words relative to the mission entrusted to me by the British Government, and her ladyship had briefly narrated our former conversation, Lord Stratford kindly expressed the pleasure it would give him to hear of my success in that important department. “A good diet,” said Lady Stratford, “being of paramount importance to every one in a state of debility. Monsieur Soyer,” continued her ladyship, “also wishes to see Roco, to learn from him, as he has now had several months’ practice making various aliments for the patients, what kinds are most in request by the doctors.”
“No doubt,” Lord Redcliffe replied, “Roco will be happy to give you all the information you may require upon the subject. He is a very good man, and exerts himself to the utmost for the hospitals.”
Lord Stratford again expressed his good wishes and promises of kind support, whereupon her ladyship and your humble servant retired. The ambassadress then ordered the footman in waiting to conduct me to Signor Roco’s apartment; expressing her desire to meet me with him the next day at the Kululee and Scutari hospitals. I promised to attend at those places on the following morning, and took my leave.
A walk through the gallery and corridor of that noble mansion brought us to Signor Roco Vido’s door. An indication on the outside apprised me that my cicerone was a child of la belle Italie, which at first caused me some fear lest this should create impediments and delay in our business transactions, as I only understood the language of the Italian opera. A few words from the footman soon brought me in amicable contact with the major-domo of the Palais d’Angleterre, who spoke excellent English, and, like his illustrious master, was surrounded by archives, but only of culinary and household affairs. The contents of these, though not so important to the world, were nearly as substantial, more especially the bill of fare, which in itself is capable of influencing any diplomatic subject. A good one gratifies the stomach and soothes the brain, which is necessarily influenced by the quality, succulence, and scientific preparation of the aliments imparted to the first organ.
Such was the important office entrusted to the guidance of Signor Roco Vido. And who can say, after all, that the late destructive war was not partly, or even entirely, caused by a dinner? Did not the French revolution of ‘48 emanate from a banquet? and upon this occasion, 1854, six years after, a most unaccountable gastronomic event occurred. Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, on his return to Constantinople as plenipotentiary, had for the first time invited his Excellency Prince Menschikoff to a grand diplomatic dinner, where all the representatives of the then united Courts were to assemble. The day was fixed for the 21st of March, 1854, and the invitations were cordially accepted, most especially by the representative of the Czar; he being, no doubt, anxious to read upon the brow of the diplomatist the political feeling of his nation. That very day, towards noon, the Sultan’s mother died. In the morning she had written a letter to his Excellency, expressive of her full confidence that he would study the future welfare of her son in his relations with the British Government. On account of this mournful event, and with a most profound feeling of respect and veneration for the Imperial mourner, the dinner was postponed for a week; and while the dark veil was laid over the banqueting-table, and the black seal was set upon the batterie de cuisine, and numerous bouches à feu de l’Ambassade britannique, his Excellency Prince Menschikoff was on board a Russian man-of-war anchored at the mouth of the Black Sea, waiting with all the dignity and defiance imaginable for the determination of peace or war. The diplomatic banquet never took place! the war did!
I consider a postponed diplomatic dinner to be an universal calamity, especially when only a few hours’ notice of the postponement is given; and I cannot but quote the Gastronomic Regenerator, page 342, published in the year 1842, in which I say—
“Rien ne dispose mieux l’esprit humain à des transactions amicales qu’un dîner bien conçu et artistement préparé. Lisez l’histoire, et vous y trouverez que, dans tous les temps et chez tous les peuples, le bien qui s’est fait, et quelquefois le mal, fut toujours précédé ou suivi d’un copieux dîner.”
Translation.—“Nothing can prepare the human mind for amicable intercourse better than a well-conceived and artistically-prepared dinner. Read history, and you will ascertain that at all periods, and amongst all nations, the benefits, and sometimes the evils, they experienced, were either preceded or followed by a good dinner.”
Cordial reception—Table-d’hôte—Absence of the fair sex—Warlike sentiments—Toasts—Scene at the Tophané landing-place—A chorus of boatmen—Caiques and caidjees—Romantic illusions dispelled—Crossing the Bosphorus—The Barrack Hospital—Lord William Paulet—Warm welcome—Dr. Cumming’s apartment—Plans discussed—Melancholy sights—Return to Pera—Another conversation with Signor Roco Vido—Articles supplied by him to the hospitals—Wounded Russians—Origin of the hospital—An appointment.
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.”
Good news—First meeting with Mr. Bracebridge—The Hyder Pacha Hospital—Bad cooking—The General Hospital—Meeting with Miss Nightingale—Plans discussed—Miss Nightingale’s anxiety for a change of system—A visitorial pilgrimage—Miss Nightingale’s dietary kitchen—Bad charcoal—Extra diet kitchens—Question of seasoning—The general kitchen—Imperfect arrangements—An old acquaintance—A promising commencement.
THE next morning we started as agreed upon. On arriving at Scutari, I met a soldier who informed me that a house in Cambridge-street was being prepared for my reception. “It is not two minutes’ walk from here,” said he; “will you go and see it?”
“Thank you, not this morning; my friend is in a great hurry. When will it be ready?”
“To-morrow, or next day, at the latest.”
“That will do very well. Where can I find you if I want to see you?”
“At the Engineers’ office; my name is Corporal Hardy.”
“I thank you.”
On our way to Hyder Pacha, we met Mr. Bracebridge, talking to Dr. MacHree, the head doctor at that hospital; both of which gentlemen I very much wished to see. Upon being introduced to Mr. Bracebridge, I recognised him as an old acquaintance of my friend, the late Baronet Sir George Chetwynd, of Greedon Hall, Staffordshire, whom he frequently visited. He informed me that Miss Nightingale had heard of my arrival, and that she would be much pleased to see me.
“I was going to pay my respects,” said I, “to Mademoiselle this afternoon after post-time.”
“Oh, that will do very well,” he replied: “she will have great pleasure in seeing you.”
As the Doctor was on his way to head-quarters, and Mr. Bracebridge was going in another direction, we continued our journey, which, though short, was very fatiguing, the roads being very bad in consequence of a continuance of heavy rain. At last we arrived at the hospital, which, although the smallest, is certainly the most elegant. It was one of the Sultan’s Kiosques, and was divided into three departments—one for the officers, and two for the men. About three hundred and forty men and twenty officers were there at the time, as I was told; the latter complained very much about their cooking, the inferiority of which was unavoidable, as there was only a very small kitchen, badly built, which smoked all day, and was without ventilation. It was there that the Duke of Cambridge and staff remained during his indisposition; but I must observe that the Duke had a first-rate culinary artist, who went through the campaign with him. The Duke was only attended by a few gentlemen, and consequently it had not at the time of my visit twenty occupants. Nothing could be done properly for them, till I had built a rough wooden kitchen, and placed a civilian cook under the orders of the doctor and purveyor who had the regulation of the diets. This hospital, though very pretty, was never considered healthy, it being surrounded by gardens and marshy meadows.
After inspecting the mess-kitchen, we retired, and thence went to the General Hospital. The doctor-in-chief not being there, we were shown round by a staff-doctor. I found the kitchen very dark, and badly built, for such a number of patients; but the distribution of food and the regulation of the same were on a much better footing than at the Barrack Hospital. On noticing this to the head cook, he gave the credit to Dr. O’Flaherty. Upon being introduced to that gentleman, I recognised him as one of my visitors in Dublin, at the same time as Brigadier-General Lord W. Paulet. I promised to have the kitchen altered as soon as it could possibly be done, and started for the Barrack Hospital to visit Miss Nightingale. As Signor Roco had settled his business, he left me and returned to Pera; consequently, I entered the great Barrack Hospital alone. The entrance was crowded with officers of rank and medical gentlemen. The High-street, facing the General’s quarters, was literally crammed with soldiers, more or less conscious of the state of warlike affairs. Most of them kept vandyking from the gin palace to their quarters, their red jackets forming a strange contrast to the quiet dress and solemn air of the Moslem soldiers upon duty.
After shaking hands with some officers and doctors whom I had the pleasure of knowing in England, I inquired of a sentry for Miss Nightingale’s apartment, which he at once pointed out to me. On my entering the ante-room, a Sœur de Charité, whom I addressed, informed me that somebody was with that lady. She added, “I am aware that Miss Nightingale wishes to see you, so I will let her know that you are here.” I hoped to have a few minutes to myself in order to take an observation of this sanctuary of benevolence; but my project was defeated by my being immediately admitted; and this compels me to trace this picture from memory.
Upon entering the room, I was saluted by a lady, and not doubting that this was our heroine, “Madam,” said I, “allow me to present my humble respects. I presume I have the honour of addressing Miss Nightingale.”
“Yes, sir. Monsieur Soyer, I believe?”
“The same, Madam.”
“Pray take a seat. I hear you had a rough voyage out.”
“Very much so, especially from Marseilles to Ajaccio.”
“So I heard, Monsieur Soyer.”
“I have brought several parcels and letters for you; among the latter, one from the Duchess of Sutherland.”
After having perused this epistle, Miss Nightingale remarked: “I believe her Grace is right; you will no doubt be able to render great service in the kitchen department.”
“For which I shall need the good-will and assistance of all the heads of this monster establishment; and I must beg, above all things, that you who have already done so much for the sick and the wounded, will be kind enough to give me the benefit of your valuable experience.”
“I will, Monsieur Soyer; but first of all, I should advise you to see Lord William Paulet, Dr. Cumming, and the Purveyor-in-Chief, Mr. Milton.”
“Many thanks for your kind advice. I had the pleasure of seeing Lord William yesterday, as well as Dr. Cumming. To Mr. Milton I shall pay my respects upon leaving you.”
“You had better do so; for the principal part of your business you will have to transact with those gentlemen.”
“A very excellent remark, which I shall not fail to attend to.”
“Another gentleman you must see in the purveyor’s department, is Mr. Tucker. You will then be able to commence operations.”
“Very true: I shall not think of commencing before I am well acquainted with every one in each department that has reference to the cooking. I shall submit every sample of diets, with a statement of the quantity and kind of ingredients of which they are composed, for the approval and opinion of the medical authorities; as I shall have to deal with patients, and not with epicures.
“Perfectly right,” said Miss Nightingale.
“That no time may be lost, I should very much like this afternoon to visit the kitchens now in use, inspect the stores, and procure a statement of the daily rations allowed to each patient, if I can have one of the inspectors to go round with me.”
“Certainly you can; I will send for somebody who will be happy to accompany you.”
“Perhaps you would favour us with your company, as I should be most happy to attend to any suggestion you might like to make.”
“I will go with you with great pleasure; but here comes Doctor Macgregor, the under-superintendent, who will be our guide. He told me that he had met you before.”
“Yes; we met yesterday at Lord William Paulet’s.”
“Doctor,” said Miss Nightingale, “Monsieur Soyer wishes you to accompany him round the various kitchens and store-rooms.”
“I will do that with the greatest pleasure; but he had better be introduced to Mr. Milton and to Mr. Tucker. Mr. Milton is out, but Mr. Tucker will do instead.”
Our visitorial pilgrimage then commenced. We first visited Miss Nightingale’s dietary kitchen, in which I immediately recognised the whole of the little camp batterie de cuisine which my friend Comte told me that the Duke of Cambridge had presented to the hospital. Justice was indeed done to it, for every separate article of which it was composed was in use. Miss Nightingale had a civilian cook as well as an assistant. Everything appeared in as good order as could be expected, considering what there was to be done. I noticed the very bad quality of the charcoal, which smoked terribly, and was nothing but dust. Of course, this interfered materially with the expedition of the cooking, which is a subject of vital importance in an hospital, where punctuality is as essential as quality. Addressing the Doctor, I said, “Suppose you have fifty or a hundred patients under your direction—according to the disease you vary the diet, and according to the state of the patient you vary the hour of his meal.”
“Of course we do.”
“Then, this defect, simple as it may appear, should be reported and immediately remedied.”
“The only excuse I can find for the rations and diets not being ready at the time required is entirely owing to the bad quality of the charcoal, which, as regards time, would deceive the best of cooks, and is quite sufficient to upset the best of culinary arrangements. However, I will take note of the various things which strike me as being out of order or bad, and this will give me a good chance of effecting an immediate improvement.”
“You are perfectly right,” said Miss Nightingale. “I assure you that Dumont, my cook, is always complaining of the charcoal, which, as you see, is so full of dust that it will not burn; and some days he cannot manage to cook at all with it.”
“Well, I will endeavour to remedy this great evil.”
“Doctor,” said Miss Nightingale, “you had better tell Monsieur Soyer to whom he is to apply in this matter.”
“Oh, Mr. Milton or Mr. Tucker will be able to give him the necessary information. We will now visit another.”
About half-way down the long corridor, we found another extra diet kitchen, managed by soldiers; but it was far from being in good order—on the contrary, all was in the greatest confusion. The kitchen was full of smoke, and everything was boiling too fast. In consequence of the bad quality of the charcoal, a wall of bricks had been raised round each stove, and thus wood and charcoal were used ad libitum, burning the rice-pudding, and over-doing everything. In fact, everything had the disagreeable flavour of being burnt. As I did not wish to alarm them, I merely remarked that the fire was too fierce; and, on the following morning, I took one of my men with me to teach them how to manage better.
We then visited several other kitchens, all of which were, more or less, in the same state. To this there was, however, a single exception, to which I must do justice by observing, that, though not quite perfect as a model—being short of cooking utensils—still it was clean, and everything we tasted was far superior in flavour. Nothing was burnt, except a slight catch in the rice-pudding; but this was a mere trifle, compared with the way the viands were spoilt in the other places. The beef-tea, chicken-broth, &c., were nicely done, although they all wanted seasoning. At my first visit to the various diet kitchens, I tasted the soups made for the patients, which I found quite free from the slightest suspicion of seasoning, and consequently tasteless. I then asked to have a couple of basins filled with this. To one I added the requisite seasoning, and requested Doctor Cumming to taste of both. The Doctor complied with my request, and could scarcely believe it possible that such an improvement could be effected by so trifling an addition. He then expressed his approval and decided that in future the cook should season the soup, instead of leaving the same to the irregular tastes of the patients.
“Well,” said Doctor Macgregor, “this is by the doctor’s order, you may be sure.”
“I have not the pleasure of knowing that gentleman, yet, though I admire his kitchen very much, and must admit that he keeps it in good order, I shall certainly tell him when I see him that I do not agree with his method of not seasoning the broths, &c., while in course of preparation. It is very true they ought not to be too highly seasoned; but it is the province of the cook, as I before said, to season for the patient, and not the patient for the cook. Instead of giving so much salt in the ward, I would allow each patient but little or none at all; because in all cookery it is the combination of good and wholesome ingredients properly blended which constitutes the best of broths or diets; and this rule holds good for the bill of fare of all nations.”
“This seems logical enough,” said the Doctor; “nor do I approve of the quantity of salt and pepper given in the wards.”
“But, Doctor, there is another evil; some people are more partial to salt than others, and, only a few minutes ago, I saw a patient begging his neighbour to give him a portion of his share.”
“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?”
“Yes, exactly like it.”
“You astonish me. Of course I will go directly. I shall, however, be sorry to trouble you to come so far.”
“Oh, no trouble at all, Monsieur Soyer. I am much interested in any improvement or amelioration which may be introduced in so important a department.”
We did, indeed, find just such another kitchen as the last, partitioned off in the centre. “This one,” said I, “will be large enough for all that we require.”
“You don’t say so,” observed Dr. Macgregor.
“Quite large enough, I can assure you; the only inconvenience is its great distance from the building. However, I shall try and manage somehow. This kitchen is cleaner than the other, and the head man appears more intelligent; still there is a great deal to be done, in order to set the whole to rights.”
“I was certain you would say so,” Miss Nightingale observed.
“Oh, but I am far from despairing. Indeed, I feel confident that I shall succeed. All I require is, that they will go on just as if I had not arrived. I shall come to-morrow at seven o’clock, and watch their proceedings, without removing any one from his post, and have no doubt I shall be able to introduce a much better system.”
After we had examined this kitchen, Miss Nightingale prepared to leave us. I promised to call upon her the following day, to go round the wards, and see the dinners served.
As the lady was leaving, I said, “I have an appointment with Lord W. Paulet at eleven, and one with Dr. Cumming at half-past—therefore I will afterwards do myself the honour of fetching you, Mademoiselle.”
“That will be the best plan; and probably his lordship will come with us.”
With this the lady withdrew. Dr. Macgregor and myself next went to the purveyor’s department, to see Mr. Tucker, whom I found to be an old London friend of mine, of ten years’ standing. “You are about the last person, friend Soyer,” said Mr. Tucker, “whom I should have expected to see here.”
“I am indeed in luck, as I hear you are the gentleman from whom I shall probably require the most assistance.”
“Anything you may require, M. Soyer, I have orders to let you have; and you may rest assured that Mr. Milton and myself will assist you to the utmost of our power. There is another person here who knows you—Mr. Bailey, the storekeeper.”
“These are indeed good tidings. To-morrow, Mr. Tucker, I shall be here early, to see how they manage the cooking. Perhaps you will be kind enough to allow some of your men to show me the various store-rooms and the fresh provisions.”
“I will make that all right, you may depend upon it.”
As my house was not quite ready I crossed over to Pera, and in the evening went to the English Embassy, to settle some business with Signor Roco Vido, and to ascertain whether Lady Stratford had fixed the day for our visit to the hospital at Kululee. This was to be my last night in Pera, as my house at Scutari was to be ready the following day.