COMFORT ON SHORE AND PENANCE AT SEA.
Tour of inspection at Marseilles--The booking office--Sleeping upon
deck--Places transferred--The bouillabaisse--The Olio--Marseilles
dishes--A harrowing spectacle--The _Simois_--A pleasant
prospect--Good ballast--The Bay of Ajaccio--_Compagnons de
voyage_--Birthplace of the first Napoleon--La Signora
Grossetti--Twenty minutes in the kitchen of the house of the
Emperor Napoleon the First--Memorials of the Emperor’s childhood--A
charming evening--Once more afloat--An enraged
_restaurateur_--Struggle for a leg of mutton--Messina--The
Piræus--Athens.
On arriving at Marseilles, I made inquiries at the Station as to what
provisions could be obtained for the army, if required. I bade my
friends adieu, in hopes of having the pleasure of seeing them on board
the next day, and in particular Mr. and Mrs. Cooke, who really took
their duty to heart, and had a most difficult task to perform. After
viewing all the magazines of Marseilles and its warehouses, I perceived
that my countrymen, in the way of national business, were very little
boys, who could hardly walk, when compared with English commercial men
and the houses of Crosse and Blackwell, Fortnum and Mason, Hogarth,
Gamble, &c. Having done my duty, so far as the victualling department
was concerned, I found that with such a stock of provisions any
Government might keep its army in a state of perfect
_starvation_--should the French Government depend upon them--though at
the same time the quantity and quality might have served very well for a
dainty pic-nic of a couple of thousand epicures, the price also being so
high.
Passing by the Bureau des Messageries Impériales, I called in to see
about our places for the next day. I found an old friend, of fifteen
years’ standing at least, at the head of that department. “Ho!
pardieu,” said he, “I thought it was you, having seen several paragraphs
respecting your departure for the Crimea. I was afraid at one time you
would have gone by sea. I have two first cabin berths for you to-morrow;
but as you are a very gallant man, you will not mind sleeping upon deck
from here to Smyrna.”
“Sleeping upon deck! what do you mean? My places have been taken this
week past.”
“I know that--I have two first-cabin berths for you. How many cooks and
attendants have you got with you?”
“We are about eight in number.”
“Oh, I can manage them then; although I assure you we are cramped
everywhere.”
“What do you mean by my sleeping upon deck?”
“Why, because if you don’t, some of those ladies who are going to Smyrna
must. Four of them must sleep upon deck, as all the places are taken;
and I am sure you are too gallant to allow them to sleep in the open air
while you remain snug in your cabin. Tell me, are you obliged to start
with them?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then, wait for the next boat; it will not make forty-eight hours’
difference, and you will be very comfortable. You will go by Messina and
Athens, and be there nearly as soon. Moreover, you will be rendering a
great service to those ladies; besides, we should pack five or six
persons in your cabin.”
“Very well, transfer our places.”
“The next vessel is quite new, and it will be her first voyage. She is
most handsomely fitted up, and you will meet with capital company on
board. All the first cabins are taken by English and French officers;
you are sure to know some of them.”
“Very well; at what time shall we be here?”
“Be ready the day after to-morrow, about three P.M., at the Hôtel
d’Orient, where you are staying. I will send some men with a few cabs.
Mind you have all your luggage ready.”
“I will. Many thanks for your kindness.”
The next day, after visiting several public institutions, I was very
desirous to taste an excellent dish called the bouillabaisse, which is
exclusively a Marseillaise dish, as turtle-soup and roast beef and
plum-pudding are essentially English. I therefore invited a few friends
to that far-famed place, the “Reserve.” Among my guests, I had the
pleasure of numbering a most eminent, amiable, and gallant gentleman,
Captain Taunton, who, a few weeks previous, I heard, had the temerity to
run his ship, the _Fury_, so close to the port of Sebastopol, that a
round shot passed through her beam.
The Captain, my friend M. Giraldo, and myself, formed the trio of
degustators of the Grand Provençale dish called the bouillabaisse, as
well as another celebrated one called the olio. The first one I, with
veneration and justice, recognised as worthy of being immortalized in
the archives of cookery. The olio, like many of its companions, so
admired by the Marseillais, is only to be appreciated by the inhabitants
of that city, who must have sprung from a bed of garlic, instead of that
more genteel and more sweetly-perfumed one, the parsley-bed--so well
known to the juveniles, who are made to believe they were found
ruralizing amidst that delicate aromatic plant.
The bouillabaisse pertains to Marseilles, as the whitebait to Greenwich
and Blackwall. Even at Marseilles it is only at a few houses that you
can get it in perfection, among which the celebrated “Restaurant de la
Reserve” ranks as A 1, and next, the “Grand Hôtel des Colonies.”
After all, the “Reserve” is the principal place. This beautiful and
picturesque restaurant, with its pavilion and slim turrets, is
gracefully situated on the top of the high rock at the entrance of the
old seaport. When required, the proprietor procures the particular fish
alive, at the threshold of his door, and shell-fish required for the
composition of this dainty dish.[7] In less than an hour--during which
time we had partaken of a few small oysters, and some shell-fish
peculiar to Marseilles--the bouillabaisse was upon the table, smoking
hot, and perfuming the room with its aroma.
Although the bouillabaisse can be made with any kind of firm fish, in
all countries, and at all seasons of the year, I should be deceiving my
readers were I to say that it could be made in the same perfection as at
Marseilles; nevertheless, it can be made good if the receipt is closely
followed. The choice of fish for the purpose in England, although not as
suitable as those of the Marseillaise coast, being of a different
nature, will still produce an excellent, dainty dish.
Though this _petit déjeuner_ was very _recherché_, the bouillabaisse
threw all the accessory dishes into the shade. The landlord, who
favoured us with his company at dessert, informed me he made it himself;
and at my request, favoured me with the receipt, and the names of the
fish composing it.
I returned my best thanks for the condescension and trouble on his part
in so doing.
“Ah, Monsieur Soyer,” said he, “you may thank your name for that. I have
often seen you mentioned in our papers, and should have been sorry if
you had left our seaport without tasting our national dish in
perfection.” He observed, in handing it to me, “You are, of course,
aware that this dish cannot be made except at a seaport.”
“I am well aware of that fact,” I answered, “and that this semi-soup and
stew ought, by right, to be made at a seaport; nevertheless, the finest
seaport I have ever seen in England, and I might say in the world, for
fish, is London; therefore, my dear sir, give me the receipt, and I
shall, no doubt, fish out the fish from a good quarter.”
ORIGINAL RECEIPT FOR THE BOUILLABAISSE A LA MARSEILLAISE.
Before entering upon details, I will specify the different kinds of
fish most applicable. They are of two classes: one acting as a
mucilaginous agent, the other merely imparting the flavour; also an
essential point. The first class comprises--whitings, loups or
lupins, red mullets, soles, and turbots. The second--gurnets,
boudroies or boudreuils, lobsters or cray-fish, sea toads or
rascasses, galinettes, limbers, lazagnes or lucrèces. These latter
are plentiful in the Mediterranean seas.
As a general rule, this ragoût should be cooked in a stewpan,
rather broad than deep, and of thin metal, in order to the
ebullition proceeding quickly. Those in tin or thin iron are the
most appropriate, as the concoction must be done in a few minutes,
and with such rapidity that the liquor must be reduced to the
necessary point by the time the fish is cooked. It should also be
sent to table and eaten at once, as the shortest delay will cause
the quality to deteriorate. The principal fish must be cut in
pieces or slices sufficiently sized to serve each guest; the others
being merely accessories.
RECEIPT.--Slice up two large onions, place them in a stewpan as
before mentioned, wide but not deep, and of thin metal, add a few
spoonfuls of olive oil, and fry the onions of a pale brown colour.
Next, place the pieces of fish in the pan, cover them with warm
water, but no more than the depth of the contents; add salt, “in
moderation,” half a bay leaf, the flesh of half a lemon, without
pips or rind, two tomatoes cut in dice, after extracting the seeds,
a small tumbler of light white wine, a few peppercorns, and four
cloves of garlic. Set on a fierce stove and boil for twelve
minutes; by this time the liquor should be reduced to a third of
its original quantity. Add a small portion of saffron, a
table-spoonful of chopped parsley, allow it to boil a few seconds
longer, taste, and correct the seasoning, if required, and remove
from the fire.
During this process you should have prepared two dozen of slices of
light French bread or penny-roll, about half an inch in thickness,
which place in a tureen or dish, pour over them some of the liquor
from the ragoût, let it soak a minute or so, and again pour over in
order to soak the top as well as the bottom of the layers of bread.
Dish up separately the best pieces of fish with the remaining
liquor, and serve.
The variation called Bourride, differs in this only, viz., the
addition of seven or eight yolks of eggs to a good portion of the
liquor, which is stirred quickly over the fire till of the
consistence of a custard cream, and then poured upon the slices of
bread, with the addition of a tablespoonful of eau d’ail, or ayoli.
The eau d’ail or ayoli is prepared by crushing several cloves of
garlic, and saturating them with water; adding the requisite
quantity to the bourride.
My reason for printing this receipt, although partly impracticable
in England, is, that it is the original as given to me by the
worthy host of the “Reserve,” as so successfully made by him.
But as many of the fish required are not to be obtained in England,
and the quantity of garlic used would be objectionable to an
English palate, I beg to refer my readers to the Addenda for a
Bouillabaisse à l’Anglaise, which possesses two great
qualities:--firstly, to suit the palate of the _gourmet_; secondly,
that of being very strengthening. The broth is very generous and
wholesome for the invalid,--for the authenticity of which assertion
I appeal to the faculty.
Giraldo now informed us it was past three o’clock, and that we must be
on board by half-past six at latest. So shortly after, much to our
regret, we left our worthy landlord and his sanctorum of good cheer, and
at half-past four left the Hôtel d’Orient to go on board the steamer,
accompanied by the gallant Captain Taunton, Mr. Giraldo, and a few other
friends.
Upon arriving at the docks, a most painful sight fell under our notice;
it was indeed a spectacle calculated to pain the soul of the greatest
philosopher. The quays round the harbour were thickly lined with sick
and wounded. There were about seven or eight hundred, who had just been
landed from two French steamers, one from Constantinople, the other from
the Crimea. Some were placed upon straw, others upon bedding, until they
could be removed to the hospital, according to the nature of their
cases. Their appearance, I regret to say, was more than indescribable.
All the afflictions so common to the fate of war seemed to have met and
fallen at once upon those brave fellows, who, a few months previous,
were the pride of their country. Many of them, to their sorrow, had not
enjoyed a chance of facing the enemy; while those who were wounded
looked joyful compared with those who were the victims of
epidemics--typhus fever, diarrhœa, dysentery, cholera, or frostbites.
I conversed with several; not one complained, but merely regretted the
friends who had died on the passage and those sick left behind, and
bewailed that they had done so little for their country in the campaign.
Mr. Giraldo, who had superintended the disembarkation, informed me that
such scenes were of daily occurrence at Marseilles; adding, this must be
very encouraging for you. Saying also in irony, “lend soldiers to the
Turks--how well they thrive under the banner of Mahomet! Well, well, my
dear sir, after all, this is nothing more than the fortune of war: ‘à la
guerre comme à la guerre.’”
This was the first disastrous sight I witnessed in this great war, and
though anything but encouraging, merely grated upon my sensibility,
without in the least affecting my mind. I must say T. G. showed much
firmness upon this solemn occasion, which firmness rather failed him
afterwards.
At five we were on the deck of the _Simois_, the name of our vessel. It
was her first trip, she having only arrived a few days previous from
Liverpool. All on board was in great confusion; a part of the vessel had
just taken fire, and the sailors were engaged putting it out, and
cutting away the burning portions; however, it was soon extinguished. We
then learnt, that upon coming into dock she had met with serious damage,
which they had scarcely had time to repair, and the painters were still
on board busily employed varnishing the first cabin. I was next told
that about four hundred troops, who were expected, had not arrived, and
that we should start without them. A lady, who was standing by,
exclaimed, “Oh, thank God for that! I cannot bear soldiers.”
“I thought,” I said, “it was a very bad job instead of a good one, as
the vessel would be crank, through not being sufficiently loaded, and
would in consequence roll very much.”
The weather being reported very rough outside, we were in suspense as to
whether we should leave that night or not. On a sudden the screw slowly
commenced its evolutions, and propelled us, not without difficulty, from
the narrow port to the wide ocean--passing amongst huge rocks, on the
very summit of which the furious waves were breaking. The evening was
fast advancing, and the vessel was already rolling very heavily. We soon
made the rock of Monte Christo, immortalized by Dumas. A yellowish
sunset, piercing the heavy rain, faintly lighted the crest of this arid
and uninhabitable spot. Shortly after, all was darkness, and many
retired. Two or three remained till about ten o’clock, when the steward
cheerfully informed us, that the weather was about the same as when the
_Semillante_ was lost ten days before, and not a soul escaped. Nearly
five hundred troops, besides passengers and crew, were drowned.
“Was she bound eastward?” inquired a passenger.
“Yes, sir, she was; we are steering the same course, but there is
another passage. I hope we shall get through before night to-morrow, and
if the sea holds as rough as it is now, no doubt we shall take the
other.”
We all turned into our berths, laughing at his mournful tale. Before
going, I said: “Believe me, steward, we are safer than ever, for you
seldom hear of two accidents alike.”
“Very true, sir; but this boat seems unlucky. I can’t tell you all the
mishaps we have had in her since I have been on board, and that is only
one month.” She was then rolling at a tremendous rate. At each plunge, a
fearful noise was heard. Upon inquiry, some one on board informed me
that he believed they had projectiles for ballast, and these were
rolling and shifting at each plunge the steamer made. Such a cargo,
though quite in harmony with the martial trip, was anything but
pleasing. Everything rolled and tumbled about fearfully during the whole
of the night. At length day broke, with a glowing sun and a heavy sea
running mountains high; so much so, that it was dangerous to attempt the
passage. Such must have been the case, as the mail-boats are not allowed
to stop except in cases of extreme danger. Our careful commander gave
orders to bring up in the Bay of Ajaccio. After sixteen hours’
flirtation on the wild ocean, we entered this calm and peaceable port,
much to the relief of all. We then collected round the table; and while
partaking of a light lunch, we had time to become acquainted with each
other. Among our _compagnons de voyage_ were General Cannon, Captain
Arbuckle, Colonel St. George, of the Artillery, Captain Ponsonby, Major
Turner, Captain Gordon, ---- Murrogh, Esq., ---- Ball, Esq., the Queen’s
Messenger, and three or four French officers, among whom was Captain
Boucher, aide-de-camp to General Canrobert, and afterwards to General
Bosquet. After some remarks upon our unfavourable start, we all blessed
our stars for the shelter we were then enjoying in the peaceable
harbour, so picturesquely surrounded by its beautiful _petite ville_,
the cradle of the first Napoleon--Ajaccio--so well situated in that
savage and energetic island of poetically ferocious heroism, habits, and
eternal vendettas, so interesting to all since the revival of that
illustrious dynasty in the person of Napoleon the Third.
All of course were anxious to visit this celebrated spot; and on
inquiring of the commander, he told us he should sail the next morning
early if the weather was more favourable. We formed ourselves into
parties of five or six, and as it was only three o’clock, we had plenty
of time before us: our greatest anxiety was to visit the house in which
the great Napoleon was born. Our party arrived first, as we had a very
clever guide, who promised if possible to introduce us to La Signora
Grossetti, saying we should have a great treat, as the old lady, who was
then eighty-three years of age, had been all her life in the Buonaparte
family in Corsica. We luckily met the old lady just coming out, and upon
being introduced, she immediately returned to do us the honours of the
house. She has been housekeeper there for above thirty years. After
visiting the apartments which are always on view--viz., the
drawing-room, dining-room, concert and ball room, library, and the small
bed-room in which that almost fabulous hero was born, I asked the old
gentlewoman, as a special favour, to show me the kitchen. No one was
ever more astonished than she appeared to be at my request. “Why, surely
there is nothing to be seen there but ruins, and I don’t even know where
the key is.”
All this redoubled my interest. We went up stairs, and found in an old
drawer three rusty keys, which we brought down; one of them opened the
door, which, on being pushed rather forcibly, fell from its hinges. We
then descended, and opened the shutters, which likewise tumbled from
their fastenings. After visiting the various departments which
constitute a gentleman’s kitchen, I wrote upon the stove the following
letter to the public press, which, through the mismanagement of my
servant, who threw it into the post without paying the postage, never
reached its destination:--
_Twenty Minutes in the Kitchen of the House of the Emperor Napoleon the
First._
MR. EDITOR,--It is an incontestable truism that “It is an ill wind
that blows nobody good;” but in this case it will be found the
reverse. Owing to most terribly rough weather, in fourteen hours
from our departure from Marseilles, _en route_ to Constantinople,
we are brought up here by our prudent Captain, sheltering us in the
bosom of the harbour of Ajaccio, the birthplace of the alliance now
existing between the two great nations of France and England. Such
reminiscences of the first of the great Napoleon’s family caused
the shore to be invaded in a few minutes by the numerous
passengers, particularly the distinguished military men of both
nations. Many visited the Hôtel de Ville, full of objects of
interest, reminding one of the late empire; others, the Letitia
House; and some inquired, with great coolness, if it were possible
to see either of the Corsican Brothers now in existence. In a very
few minutes my curiosity was gratified by a cursory examination of
the above-mentioned interesting subjects; and by a great deal of
courtesy and perseverance, I obtained from La Signora Grossetti
(who had been in the late Emperor’s family from her infancy) the
rusted key of the kitchen-door of that interesting and now deserted
domicile--such a request having never before been made by the
numerous travellers who daily visit it.
And it is, Mr. Editor, while writing upon the stove in this
celebrated kitchen--which first alimented the brain of that great
hero--that I beg to address you the following few lines at random,
as the weather bids fair and our departure is immediate. On my left
hand is a well-constructed charcoal stove, containing six nine-inch
square cooking-places, covered with glazed red tiles (a piece of
which I have procured, and intend placing in my kitchen at
Scutari); an oval one, about eighteen inches long by about six
inches wide, on which the most delicious fish, game, meat, and
poultry, were no doubt submitted to the highest perfection of the
culinary art. At the spot at which I am now writing, the roasting
by wood fire, and the broiling by red ashes, were carried on, as I
perceive, by the remains of the hearth. There is also the old Jack,
with the pulley that supported the rope and weights. On my right is
an old semi-circular oven, partly in ruins, with an old-fashioned
wrought-iron door, in which no doubt the cakes and choice pastry
were prepared to gratify the imperial infant’s palate. Larders,
confectionery, and all the requisite appointments of a kitchen are
not wanting; which, though in a most dilapidated state, still left
an appearance of grandeur which none but a family of distinction
could afford--very different from what has been often reported and
believed by the vulgar--viz., that this great man had his origin in
the bosom of an indigent family.
With the highest consideration, believe me, Mr. Editor, yours very
faithfully,
A. SOYER.
_March 13, 1855._
[Illustration: KITCHEN AT AJACCIO OF NAPOLEON THE FIRST.]
The old lady seemed much pleased with the very extraordinary interest I
took in the place, and proposed to show us her private apartment at the
top of the house, which she assured us was full of reminiscences of
the Emperor’s childhood. His wooden arm-chair and desk, inkstand, and a
few boy’s toys--such as a small gun, soldiers, shako, &c.--are carefully
preserved by the old and faithful servant of her illustrious master.
Though of great age, she was very animated, and made all sorts of
inquiries about the war, and if we had seen the present Emperor; having
satisfied her curiosity, we retired, highly pleased with our visit to
Ajaccio.
We were much indebted to La Signora Grossetti, who had really shown us
things that no former traveller could boast of having seen. I could not
part with the old dame without saluting her on both cheeks, which she
very kindly returned, it being the custom of the country, as she said.
This scene terminated, much to the surprise and enjoyment of my
_compagnons de voyage_--Captain Gordon and Mr. Munro of the Ordnance,
with several French officers--our interview with that kind and
extraordinary lady.
I had taken (as I mentioned in my letter) a piece of tile from the
charcoal stove, and a rough wooden meat-hook which I found in the
larder, dating, as the Signora told me, from that epoch. Our time being
short, and the night rapidly approaching, we re-embarked, and related,
to the great delight of all, our amorous adventure with the nurse of the
first Napoleon. All regretted not having been of our party. We spent a
very charming evening on board, each one relating what he had seen. The
Town Hall, I must observe, is very interesting, being filled with relics
of the Buonaparte family, with full-length portraits of the father and
mother of the Emperor. I was also much pleased at seeing one of the best
statuettes of the late _arbiter elegantiarum_, the celebrated Count
D’Orsay, given by him to the present Emperor for the town of Ajaccio. It
is the well-known statuette of Napoleon the First on horseback; and in a
frame beside it is the original letter of presentation written by the
Count himself, which I can vouch for, “having many of his letters in my
possession.” The style is so charming, that I regret not having had time
to take a copy.
Next morning, with a fresh breeze, bright sun, and a clear sky, we left
this immortal and delightful spot, where avenues of orange-trees, loaded
with ripe fruit, ornament both sides of the streets; and at the same
time, “by the bizarrerie of nature,” the chain of mountains which
surround this romantic spot are always covered with snow. In ten minutes
we were again launched upon the wide ocean. Though the sea was not so
rough, the waves dashed about furiously, and made the vessel roll even
more than the day before. This is always the case after a gale. We were
all much amused at the _restaurateur_ of the steamer, who kept cursing
everybody, because all his glass and crockery were smashed to pieces;
and all because, as he declared, the vessel had started before she had
been properly fitted up. The Captain, in trying to soothe him, drove him
raving mad, and he commenced throwing overboard all the plates, dishes,
and glass on which he could lay his hands. At length he caught hold of a
leg of mutton, and was about to serve it in the same manner. I happened
to be near him, and not quite approving of casting good victuals
overboard while at sea, I took upon myself to object to this part of his
proceedings. I was the more induced to do this because I had promised my
illustrious _compagnons de voyage_ to look after the cook and his
cooking, with which he really took much pains, and gave us great
satisfaction. The infuriated Marseillais poured a volley of the most
foul language in his Provençal dialect, while he and I were holding the
doomed leg of mutton. He then asked me who I was?
“A passenger,” I replied; “and one who has a most decided objection to
your feeding the fish--with legs of mutton,” I continued, boldly. He
then gave it up; and, in acknowledging he was in the wrong, exclaimed,
at the top of his voice, “I wish you no harm, but I should be highly
pleased if you and all in the steamer were at the bottom of the sea.”
“Wherefore?”
“You ask me wherefore! Because I shall lose above a thousand francs.”
[Illustration: COOKING ON THE MAGIC STOVE IN THE ACROPOLIS AT ATHENS.]
“The directors will make that up,” I said.
“Not a sous,” said he.
The comical part of this scene was enhanced by the continual rolling of
the ship.
This incident kept us alive till we reached Messina. The following
letter, addressed to the _Illustrated London News_, will explain my
subsequent proceedings:--
ACROPOLIS, ATHENS, _March 18_.
Having left Marseilles, on the 12th inst., for Constantinople, in
the prosecution of my mission to the Hospital at Scutari, owing to
a sudden and unexpected change from a beautifully calm to a rough
and stormy sea, M. Favre, the captain of our vessel (the _Simois_),
was compelled to seek shelter in the peaceable harbour of Ajaccio,
in Corsica, the birthplace of the immortal Emperor Napoleon I.
Since our departure from that celebrated port, a favourable breeze
succeeding a most tempestuous gale, soon brought us alongside the
Levrazzi Rocks, on which the French frigate _Semillante_ was
wrecked a few weeks ago, and all her passengers and crew lost. At
night we were gratified with the sight of a slight eruption of the
Stromboli Mountain, which rises immediately from the ocean to the
height of several thousand feet. Next morning we arrived at
Messina, the spring garden of Sicily, where, in the open air,
orange and lemon trees were in full blossom, and covered with
delicious fruit. Lilies, roses, and violets perfume the air; whilst
peas, beans, artichokes, and asparagus are gathered at the foot of
the lofty mountains covered with snow. Although Messina is well
known to travellers, yet they are not so well acquainted with the
productions of its early spring. After a few hours’ ramble in this
interesting city, our party embarked, and rapidly passed on our
left the small but pretty town of Reggio, and on our right the
mighty Mount Ætna, covered with deep snow. In less than forty-seven
hours the _Simois_ brought us before the Piræus, the voyage never
before having been accomplished under fifty.
The _Simois_ is an English vessel, built at Liverpool by Mr.
Layward, and recently purchased by the Messageries Impériales, and
this is her first voyage in this sea. From the unexpected quickness
of our passage, we were allowed to remain at this port four hours,
and availed ourselves of the opportunity of visiting Athens. At the
present time, in the ancient Parthenon, I am cooking, with my new
camp-stove, on a fallen capital of the stupendous ruins, a _petit
déjeûner à la fourchette_, with Greek and Sicilian wines, for my
distinguished fellow-travellers; amongst whom are General Cannon
(Behram Pacha); Colonel St. George, of the Woolwich Artillery;
Captain Gordon; Captains Turner and Ponsonby; G. Munro, Esq.; W. S.
Ball, Esq., Q.F.M.S.; Captain Arbuckle; Captain Boucher,
Aide-de-camp of General Canrobert; and Signor Pitaki, the Governor
of the Acropolis.
We shall speedily re-embark for Constantinople.
A. SOYER.