CAMP LIFE AT HEAD-QUARTERS.
Off to head-quarters--A sensation--Mrs. Seacole’s
salutation--General Simpson--An interview--Plans--Invitation to
dinner--Bread-biscuits--Prescribe for the General--General
Eyre--Sir John Jones--The Staff--Conversation--A remarkable
case--The Guards’ camp--Return from a funeral--Colonel
Seymour--Dinner at General Simpson’s--A Crimean banquet--Arrival of
despatches--A great battle expected--Excitement of my Zouave--A
false alarm--My stoves in use--Success of the plan--Economical
cooking stove for all classes--Interview with Sir Colin
Campbell--Battle of the Tchernaya--Ride with Lord Rokeby--Colonel
Seymour recognised at last--Wounded from the Tchernaya--Timely
succour--Case of two French soldiers--Visit to the
battle-field--Bornet’s indignation--Delay--Opening day fixed--Final
preparations.
As Bornet was a dashing cavalier and a very good horseman, he created
quite a sensation in Kadikoi, and upon our arrival before the Sardinian
head-quarters, General della Marmora and Staff came upon the balcony to
look at him. He saluted the general, who appeared much surprised to see
a Zouave on horseback in my suite, and not wearing the exact costume of
that corps, as I had made some stylish improvement in it, in order to
distinguish him from the common soldiers.
As I had to see General Simpson about eleven o’clock, off we went at
full gallop, being rather short of time. Mrs. Seacole, who was at her
door with her daughter Sarah, had only time to call out, “Go it, my
sons!” as we rattled past the house. We arrived in due time, and I saw
Colonel Steele, who told me that General Simpson would be happy to
receive me directly, and at once conducted me to his audience-chamber.
The new Commander-in-chief rose politely as I entered, shook me by the
hand, and invited me to be seated. I had previously left a letter for
him from Lord William Paulet respecting my mission, and I showed two I
had received from the War-office, in which the Minister-at-War expressed
in flattering terms his approbation of them.
After the usual compliments of a first interview, General Simpson told
me that he had read the letter with great interest, and would give me
all the assistance in his power to enable me to carry out my project,
which was, first, to make a trial before the Commander-in-chief, the
generals and officers of the army, Dr. Hall, &c. &c. If on that occasion
my new system was approved of, it was my intention to introduce the same
for the benefit of the army at large. To this General Simpson gave his
assent, saying, “You have only, Monsieur Soyer, to tell me what you
require.”
“First of all, general, that you should select a spot where the trial
can take place, and name a regiment with which I can begin.”
“You will require a building for your kitchen.”
“Not at all, general--no masons, carpenters, nor engineers. My stoves
are adapted for the open air, to cook in all weathers, and to follow the
army.”
“I am aware of that, as I saw the model when you were here last.”
“Exactly. All I shall require will be three bell-tents for myself and
assistants, as I must reside in the camp.”
“Very well; I will give orders to that effect.”
“I would also recommend you to select a regiment near head-quarters for
your own convenience in visiting and watching the progress of the
kitchens.”
“I think the Guards in the First Division will suit our purpose best. Do
you know where they are?”
“I do; but perhaps you will be kind enough to send some official with me
to select the spot.”
“We will ride over this afternoon. You had better dine with us this
evening. You know the greater part of the gentlemen of my Staff; and
those you do not, know you.”
“Many thanks, general, for your kind invitation, which I accept with the
greatest pleasure.”
“Have you anything in that parcel to show me?”
“Yes; one of my new bread-biscuits, which I wish you to taste.”
On opening the parcel, he took it out, saying, “Lord bless you! this
will be too hard for my teeth.”
“Not so hard as you think. It is much softer than the ordinary biscuit
which it is intended to replace. At any rate, it may be issued in turn,
and will afford an excellent change for the troops. I have kept some
above three months, and they are quite good. The Duke of Newcastle
tasted one of them, and was much pleased with it.”
Having broken a piece off and tasted it, the general partook of some and
found it very good, though not nearly so hard as he anticipated. He
declared that it was much more palatable than the common biscuit, and
that he quite enjoyed it. General Simpson was at that time very unwell,
and he seldom ate anything but arrowroot and biscuit soaked in boiling
water. I tasted some of his fare, and found it tolerably good, but not
nutritive enough for a man who worked hard. He informed me that he was
often occupied eight or ten hours a day writing. As his complaint was
diarrhœa, I proposed boiling some plain rice after the receipt given
in Addenda, which was at all times so much approved of by the doctors.
This I did the next day. The general took a great deal of bodily
exercise in the camp and in the trenches.
On quitting General Simpson, I paid my respects to General Eyre, with
whom I had some business to transact. He was then at the head of the
Ordnance Office, and General Simpson had referred me to him for all I
might require from that department. The general gave me a very kind
reception, and granted all that I required. Having two hours to spare, I
made up my mind to go to the French camp or head-quarters. I had not had
the pleasure of seeing General Pelissier since he received the
appointment of Commander-in-chief. As I was going out, I met General
Jones, the engineer.
“Do you recollect, Monsieur Soyer, where we met last?”
Aware that the General--now Sir John Jones--was the siege and trench
engineer, I thought that he referred to my wild expedition when I lost
my way in the blood-stained labyrinth. I was, however, quite mistaken.
He informed me that it was in Ireland, when I opened my kitchens in the
year 1847. I then recollected the circumstance, as I had myself shown
him round the kitchens, and explained the method and the process of
cooking by steam for ten thousand people, if required, with only one
furnace, and by means of steam-pipes connected with a double boiler--a
plan, I believe, still in use in many large governmental and civil
institutions.[19]
I gave Sir John to understand what great pleasure it afforded me to hear
of such reminiscences, and inquired if he intended to go for a ride as
far as the First Division.
“No, Monsieur Soyer,” said he, “I don’t think I can. In fact, I have to
be in the trenches, where I shall be happy to see you when you have
fixed upon the spot for your field-kitchens.”
“I thank you, general, for your kind invitation, but would rather see
you out of them, and a good distance off, particularly as a person is
more exposed to the fire of the enemy on entering or leaving than when
inside.”
Finding that I had hardly time to go as far as the French head-quarters,
I went to the kitchen and inquired what there was for dinner. The _chef_
was named Nicolo, and had lived with Sir George Brown.
The horses were at the door in readiness for the general. All the Staff
were in attendance before the house, some sitting on the steps, others
standing. Among them were Generals Barnard and Airey, Colonels Steele
and Blane, Captains Colville, Lindsay, &c., with whom I conversed upon
various matters, especially upon my long stay at the Reform Club.
General Barnard, as usual, was very talkative and witty.
When Colonel Steele saw General Simpson coming, he called to me to
mount, and a few minutes after we set off to the First Division. On our
way, we conversed upon various topics, particularly respecting a poor
fellow named Harvey, who had been shot in his tent during the night. A
ball from one of the enemy’s long-rangers had fractured both his legs,
and he died a few hours after receiving the wound. The most remarkable
part of the occurrence, as I told the General, was this:--The person who
usually occupied the spot got drunk the night before, and was put in the
guard-house: this saved his life. The ball made a hole about two feet
deep at the very spot where he generally slept, every inch of room being
turned to account in the tents. He must have been smashed to atoms, had
he been there. The man who was killed had his legs close to this spot,
and the shot falling in a slanting direction, cut them both off. The
general said he had heard that a man had been killed during the night,
but that he was not aware of the circumstances.
“On my way to the General Hospital,” I continued, “in the morning, I saw
the tent and the place where the cannon-ball fell. I have the piece of
canvas the shot passed through; it was given me by Dr. Taylor of the
Third Division, who took me to see it. It bears the name of the man
killed and the date of the accident. The doctor, after cutting out the
piece which was hanging to the tent, wrote the particulars upon it
himself. I will show it to you this evening, general. My man has the
relic with him.”
Some officers came and conversed with the general for a short time while
we were before the Guards’ camp. On the esplanade the men were parading
for the trenches; there might have been four companies. The general
spoke to the commanding officers, and they all started. A detachment of
the Scots Fusiliers, headed by a band of music playing a lively tune,
were returning from the funeral of one of their officers. This scene
made a singular impression upon me. I was, in the first place, struck at
seeing those fine fellows going, some probably to their doom--for who
could tell how many would get back safely?--and in the second place, at
the sight of the return of the funeral, playing such a joyous strain.
This I learned, upon inquiry, was always the case after interring the
corpse and leaving the cemetery. One company had not started for the
trenches. It was commanded by Colonel Seymour of the Guards, now
aide-de-camp to H.R.H. Prince Albert. General Simpson, who had been some
time talking with that officer, said to me, “Monsieur Soyer, here is
Colonel Seymour, who will render you any assistance you may require.”
“Much obliged, general.”
“Oh,” said the colonel, “Monsieur Soyer and myself are old
acquaintances. I often paid you a visit at the Reform Club.”
“Indeed, colonel!”
“Certainly--very often.”
Though the face was well known to me, I could not for the life of me
recognise the colonel, he had such a large beard and mustachios. General
Simpson then left us together, and I observed that I should give him as
little trouble as possible, but for a short time should require all his
kind assistance for the opening of my kitchen.
“You may depend upon me, Monsieur Soyer,” he said,--“that is, if I
return safe from the trenches.”
“I sincerely hope you may.”
“No one can tell. Thank God, I have been very fortunate so far.”
“I hope that you will continue to be so.”
We made an appointment. He started on horseback at the head of his men.
I was introduced to numerous other officers by the general, and
afterwards by the colonel, with many of whom I had the honour of being
previously acquainted. Having selected a spot on the esplanade facing
the centre avenue which divided the Coldstreams from the Scots
Fusiliers, I returned alone to head-quarters, it being then nearly
dinner-time. My Zouave had got back from Balaklava, whither I had sent
him to fetch my evening dress, in which I immediately attired myself, as
dinner was upon the table. We sat down about twelve in number. As I was
nearly opposite General Simpson, I had the opportunity of conversing
with him upon various subjects. For a Crimean dinner, it was a very good
one indeed. Colonel Steele and Captain Colville, who were sitting next
me, attributed it to my presence, and said that the cook--Nicolo--had
certainly distinguished himself upon the occasion.
“I am much pleased,” I replied, “to be the cause of so great an
improvement in the culinary department, and hope for the future the
Commander-in-chief will avail himself of my influence by often inviting
me to dine at head-quarters.”
After dinner, the evening passed very merrily, and the general cordially
joined in the fun, though he seemed full of business, leaving the table
several times to write despatches in his cabinet. We were smoking on the
balcony at the back of the house, facing the vineyard, when the general
returned from one of his short excursions, and I showed him the piece of
canvas which I had obtained from my Zouave.
“Had the ball,” I said, “fallen upon a stone, or anything offering
resistance, it might have killed twenty men, as it fell in the thickest
part of the Third Division. The deep hole it made in the tent was as
polished and hard as the interior of a marble mortar. This was no doubt
caused by the rapid revolutions of the ball in burying itself before its
force was spent. I noticed this whilst looking at the cavity; and the
men who were lying in the tent were of my opinion, and assured me that
it kept making a tremendous noise for some time after its fall.”
While we were engaged in conversation I believe that another despatch
arrived, for the general and some of his Staff were called out. Observe,
reader, that for a full hour the cannon and mortars had not ceased
roaring throughout the camps, continually vomiting forth death and
destruction on every side; yet every one present, I as well as the
rest, appeared quite indifferent to that mournful noise. We were,
however, soon awakened by the fierce rattling of the fusillade. All
listened attentively, but without moving from their seats. A message
from the general and fresh orders caused us to break up the party. I was
leaving the house, intending to return to Balaklava, when I met Major
Lindsey, one of the aides-de-camp of General Simpson, entering with, I
believe, another despatch. He asked me where I was going to sleep: I
answered, at Balaklava.
“Oh, nonsense! don’t go away. We are all ordered for half-past three in
the morning. A great battle is expected, as the Russians are going to
attack us upon a fresh point. I will give you a plank and a blanket in
my room to lie upon for an hour or so.”
I accepted his kind offer, and he left me. When I informed my Zouave of
the anticipated battle,
“By Jove!” said he, “I hope they will give me a gun and sword to go and
fight. I shall make a busy day of it. I smell powder. Pray, governor, do
beg of the general to let me go with them.”
The fellow had taken a drop too much, and he went on like a madman--no
one could check him. We retired to our hospitable abode, and I went to
sleep; but the mad Zouave was anywhere and everywhere. At three o’clock
I awoke. The general and his Staff started--the cannonade was going on
fiercely, but no fusillade was heard. At seven the general and all
returned; and it was, as he said, a false alarm.
My Zouave returned at eight, loaded with provisions, which he told me he
had borrowed of some fellows he had found fast asleep. We arrived on
board the _Baraguay d’Hilliers_ about ten, faint with fatigue and
hunger, having had no breakfast.
Such was camp-life at head-quarters. It was like swimming between life
and death. No one seemed to apprehend the least danger, while a
successful sortie on the part of the enemy would have placed every one’s
life in the greatest peril. So much for the unprofitable business of
war!
Having fixed upon a spot for my kitchen, I immediately sent the stoves
to the camp. As they happened to be close to the railway, they arrived
early the next morning. In the course of the day I reached my field of
battle, and to my great surprise found--what? Why, all my battery firing
for the support of the Highland Brigade. The stoves had arrived early
enough for the men to use them in cooking their dinners. Though I had
given special orders that no one should meddle with them until I
arrived, it gave me great pleasure to find that the men were using them
to the best advantage and without instruction. In the first place, they
could not possibly burn more than twenty pounds of wood in cooking for a
hundred men, instead of several hundredweight, which was the daily
consumption. Although I had not given them my receipts, they found they
could cook their rations with more ease, and hoped they should soon have
them for every-day use, instead of the small tin camp-kettles, and their
open-air system of cooking. The process was very unsatisfactory, being
dependent upon good, bad, or indifferent weather, and the fuel was often
wet and difficult to ignite. Colonel Seymour, whom I invited to see the
men using the stoves without tuition from me or anybody else, can
testify to the accuracy of this fact, having witnessed the process and
interrogated them upon the subject.
My reason, reader, for relating this circumstance, is because it
afforded me an assurance that I could render service to the army, and
that my exertions were of some use. I saw even further than that; for I
inferred that if a soldier, who is not a cooking animal, being paid for
other purposes--and that talent a peculiar gift conferred in a greater
or less degree upon humanity--could without trouble or instruction cook
well in the open air and in all weathers, the stoves would certainly be
useful in all establishments, from a cottage to a college. I do not say
anything of their use in hospitals, because they had been tried in those
establishments with full success, as far as military cooking was
concerned. The idea of connecting baking, roasting, boiling and steaming
crossed my mind; and this, I felt with confidence, would render them
beneficial and useful to the public at large. This idea I at once
communicated to the makers, and they have already acted upon my
suggestion. I resolved upon my return to England to bring them out at as
cheap a rate as possible for the use of small or large families. A
really useful and economical cooking stove is as much wanted in England
as sunshine on a November day--a stove by which all the usual domestic
cooking can be carried on, without having recourse to bricks and mortar,
and chimney-sweeps. Smoky chimneys, as well as other minor nuisances too
numerous to mention, would be thus avoided. Twelve pounds of coal, or
fifteen pounds of coke, will cook for one hundred men.
“War,” said I to myself, “is the evil genius of a time; but good food
for all is a daily and a paramount necessity.” These reflections led to
a further communication with Messrs. Smith and Phillips, of Snow-hill. I
took out a patent for the stoves. This I did not like to do before I had
introduced them to the Government, as every one would have supposed that
I wished to make money by the patent. The object of a patent, after such
a decided success, was to secure the solidity and perfection of the
article. As it was difficult to make, and certain to be badly imitated,
my reputation must have suffered. Instead of being expensive, they will
be sold at a reasonable price, sufficient to repay the manufacturers,
and to leave a fair profit; thus placing them within the reach of
all--the million as well as the millionaire.
As the Highlanders had already used the stoves, I changed my plan, and
instead of placing them between the Guards’ camp, thought it would be
better to have them in the centre of the Highland Brigade, as near as
possible to Sir Colin Campbell’s head-quarters, which would enable him
to watch the proceedings without trouble. For this purpose, I went to
his quarters, and was told that the best time to see him was from eight
till nine in the morning at the latest. Next morning I was on my way to
the Scotch camp by seven o’clock. I saw Colonel Stirling, Sir Colin’s
private secretary, who informed me that Sir Colin would be happy to
receive me. My reception by that brave and illustrious general was
highly gratifying to my feelings.
“Welcome, Monsieur Soyer!” exclaimed the general, as I entered his tent.
He shook me by the hand, with a smile on his face which one could see
came from the heart. The fine long beard which then adorned his visage
could only be portrayed by a Rembrandt or a Titian. The amiable and fine
qualities of that noble-hearted general, so well known to every
Englishman, made me feel proud of being so cordially received by one the
pride of his country.
“How are you, Monsieur Soyer?”
“Never better, general,” was my answer. “I am happy to see you are
enjoying good health.”
“Thank God, I am. Be seated, and tell me what I can do for you.”
“I shall esteem it a great favour, general, if you will allow me to
place my new field-stoves in your brigade, instead of on the esplanade.
Your men have, unknown to me, commenced cooking with them; and as they
already know how to use them, I should prefer leaving them in their
hands.”
“Very well, Monsieur Soyer; select the spot, and Colonel Stirling will
give you all the assistance you may require.”
“Thank you, general; but I must observe that this is only a trial, and
they will be removed so soon as the Commander-in-chief has seen them in
use, and decided upon their merits.”
After taking some refreshment, kindly offered by the general, I went to
Colonel Stirling, and informed him of the general’s decision. He
promised to have everything ready to commence operations the next
morning.
The following day I was out very early at the Inkermann heights, with a
numerous party, looking towards the Tchernaya Bridge. It was the 16th of
August, the day of that memorable battle, which does not require a
description on my part. From four till eight that morning I looked on,
and saw the retreat of the Russians and the triumph of the French and
Sardinians.
On my return, I had the pleasure of riding with Lord Rokeby, who was on
his way to his quarters to give some important orders. I had a very
interesting conversation with his lordship, who explained the plan of
the battle--how it commenced and ended, with the probable loss on both
sides. He had been up all night: reinforcements were pouring in from all
directions of the Allied camps, with the cavalry, then commanded by
General Scarlett, as another attack was expected. Near Lord Rokeby’s
quarters we met Colonel Seymour, who gave him a despatch, whereupon the
former immediately left us. The colonel rode with me some distance,
giving me more details respecting the engagement. He then remarked that
I had not called the day before, according to promise. I told him that I
had been detained later than I anticipated: I also mentioned my
interview with Sir Colin Campbell. He said--
“You have done well, Monsieur Soyer; but of course I shall not be able
to do so much for you, as I am in another brigade: however, I will do my
utmost.” He then observed, “I believe, though I was introduced to you
the other day by General Simpson, you do not recollect me.”
“To be frank with you, colonel, I must acknowledge that your face is
very familiar, but I cannot recal where I had the pleasure of seeing you
before.”
“You will remember me, when I tell you I have been many times in your
kitchen at the Reform Club. Do you recollect me now?”
This explanation not having enlightened me, he continued--
“It was I--then Captain Seymour--who accompanied the Prince of Prussia,
the Duke of Saxe-Coburg, the Grand Duke Michael, the Princess Clementina
of France, and his Royal Highness Prince Albert, whose aide-de-camp I
was for several years.”
It was not until he said this that I recalled the colonel’s face, as he
had been completely metamorphosed from the drawing-room dandy to a
fierce and war-worn warrior. I was now much delighted to find so firm a
supporter of my undertaking. I could not, however, account for the
sudden change in his appearance since I had seen him at the Reform Club.
I went to see Colonel Stirling, though not expecting to find him or Sir
Colin in the camp, when, by chance, he returned, having important
business to transact. Upon seeing me, he said--
“Ah, Monsieur Soyer, you have selected a very glorious day for the
commencement of your hostilities; but I regret I shall not be able to
assist you, as we do not know how this affair will be decided.”
“You do not for a moment suppose, colonel, that I would intrude upon
your valuable time on such an occasion? Having slept in camp, I only
called _en passant_. Good-morning, colonel.”
“Good-day, Soyer. I would advise you to call to-morrow.”
Having given a look at my Highlanders’ cooking, and tasted some coffee
which they had prepared for breakfast according to my receipt, I
retired, much pleased with their success.
I remained at the camp till nearly three in the afternoon. About one, a
long train of mules made their appearance, bearing wounded French and
Russian soldiers--the latter prisoners. About twenty were wounded; the
rest followed the mournful procession. Assisted by a few of my men, I
gave them some wine, brandy, porter, &c.--in fact, whatever we could get
at the canteen--which seemed to afford them much relief. I of course
treated the wounded Russians in the same manner as the French; though
two refused to take anything, fearing poison.
Not doubting that many more would pass, as I had some provisions in a
tent for the opening of my kitchens, I made some sago jelly, with wine,
calves’-foot jelly, &c., which unfortunately was not used, as the other
prisoners went by a different road, though taken to the General
Hospital at the French head-quarters. Upon leaving, I ordered my men to
be on the look-out, and if any wounded or prisoners came by, to offer
them some refreshment.
Just as I was going, I perceived a few mules approaching the Guards’
camp. As they advanced, I and one of my men went towards some of the
wounded with a basin of sago in hand, saying, this was a sort of
half-way ambulance, where they might obtain all they might require. I
was aware that some of the Russian prisoners in the first convoy would
not accept any refreshment, for fear of being poisoned, of course not
knowing better. The case of two poor French soldiers I cannot pass in
silence. One had been severely wounded in the head, and was almost in a
state of insensibility; the other had had his leg amputated on the field
of battle. The first, after taking a few spoonfuls of the hot sago,
asked for a drop of brandy, saying he felt faint. The conductor at first
objected to this, but upon my asking him to take a glass with me and the
patient, he agreed that it would do him no harm if it did him no
good--adding, that very likely he would not survive the day. Having
mixed it with water, he drank it, and thanked me warmly. The other was
an officer. After giving him some wine-jelly, I conversed with him.
“How good this jelly is!” said he, in French; “pray give me another
spoonful or two, if you have it to spare.”
Having done this, he said that he suddenly felt very thirsty. This was,
no doubt, owing to the loss of blood. I gave him some lemonade. He drank
above a pint, and felt more composed, and proceeded to the hospital,
near the English head-quarters. I accompanied him, and he told me that
his leg had just been amputated; and, with tears in his eyes, added, in
a low voice, “All I regret is, that my military career should have ended
so soon. I am but thirty years of age, and have only been two months in
the Crimea.”
“My dear friend,” I replied, to cheer him, “many thousands have done
less, and died; but you will survive, and be rewarded for your gallant
service--you belong to a nation which can appreciate noble devotion.”
“Ah!” said he, “you have done me a deal of good, no matter who you are;
if my life is spared, I beg you will let me see or hear from you.”
Though he gave me his name, not having my pocket-book with me, I could
not make a note of it. Some time after, I visited the hospital, in
company with Dr. Wyatt of the Coldstream Guards. We learnt that the man
who had been wounded in the head had died, but that the officer whose
leg had been amputated had been sent home to France.
About six in the evening, I and my Zouave visited the field of battle.
The sight was indeed a melancholy one. The French and Sardinians were
busily engaged burying their dead, as well as those of the enemy, but
were compelled to desist several times in consequence of the Russian
cannonade from the heights.
Bornet, my Zouave, perceiving that the Russians were firing upon the
Allies while burying their dead, got in such a towering passion, that I
thought he would have gone alone and taken the Russian batteries. I had
great difficulty in getting him home, for, as I have before said, the
smell of gunpowder was to him like the scent of a rat to a terrier.
On arriving on board the _Baraguay d’Hilliers_, we learnt from the
captain that he was to take his departure in a few days, at which I was
very sorry, not having opened my kitchen, nor being as yet installed in
the camp. I applied to the harbour-master, who advised me to choose the
_Edward_; as she was a transport and laden with hospital stores, she was
likely to remain longest in harbour.
I was at this time busily engaged pitching my tents in the camp. The
opening of my kitchen was delayed in consequence of the troops being on
duty at the Tchernaya. This lasted for about ten days, when it was
rumoured that Sir Colin Campbell wished to remove his camp to Kamara, in
order to be nearer the spot at which it was supposed the expected
attack would take place. I therefore pitched my tent on the spot I had
at first selected. The day for my opening ceremony was fixed upon by
General Simpson; and my friend Colonel Seymour very kindly assisted me
in many ways, and even wrote letters of invitation to the colonels and
officers of the different regiments. I was anxious for them to give
their approval or non-approval of the method. Two days before, Colonel
Seymour and myself had settled everything to our satisfaction, and
wishing to make a kind of _fête champêtre_ of the opening day, we
applied at proper quarters for a band of music, which was granted.
My opening day was the one fixed upon for the distribution of the Order
of the Bath. In parting from the colonel, he observed, “Well, Monsieur
Soyer, I think we shall make a good thing of this, unless something
happens to me in the trenches to-night. I am just going there.”
These words were said in as light-hearted a manner as though he was
going to a ball, and passed from my mind as quickly. The gallant colonel
was then going perhaps for the hundredth time to his dangerous and
uncertain duty.
I returned to Balaklava for the last time previous to taking up my
permanent residence at the camp. I had settled all to my entire
satisfaction. With Sir George Maclean, the Commissary-General, I had
arranged respecting the quantity of rations required for a certain
number of men; with Mr. Fitzgerald, the Deputy Purveyor-in-chief, for
the fresh meat; and with the butcher for a supply of four ox-heads and
six ox-feet, out of the number he daily buried. I placed all my people
in their different stations according to merit and qualification. I
obtained from Major Mackenzie, through the kindness of Sir Thomas Eyre,
the Ordnance Master, some wood and four carpenters to put up some tables
and a few benches, and ordered from Messrs. Crockford, at Donnybrook, a
certain quantity of wines and refreshments worthy of the illustrious
guests I was about to receive.