ILLNESS AND CHANGE OF SCENE.
Business suspended--Holiday-time for the cooks--Breakfast in the
Malakhoff--Transferred to the Mamelon Vert--Attack of Crimean
fever--Kind attentions--Relapse--An unexpected visitor and a
conversation--Laughable incident--Trip to Scutari--Captain Brown of
the _Imperador_--Fellow-travellers--Fame in
America--Brigadier-General Storks--Consolations--Bornet’s
consideration--His farewell--Soyer House--Third illness--Severe
attack of dysentery--Recovery--Grand ball at the English
Embassy--The Sultan attends--“Elizabeth Quadrilles”--Arrival of my
field-stoves--Off again to the Crimea--Letters suggesting
improvements in the hospitals.
For a few days all business seemed suspended in the camp, and the rage
with every one was to visit the ruins of the far-famed city. The
hospitals in the camp and at Balaklava were quite full, though most of
the patients were going on very satisfactorily. Much bustle was observed
at both the French and English head-quarters. As the soup was no longer
required for the soldiers in the trenches, the order for the
field-stoves remained some time in abeyance, and all appeared like
holiday time. In fact, people kept flocking, with and without
permission, into Sebastopol. Deeming this a favourable opportunity, I
proposed giving a déjeûner in the Malakhoff two days after its capture,
and cooking it with my magic bivouac-stove. Among the guests invited
were Colonels Daniell, De Bathe; Brigadier Drummond; Majors Fielden,
Armitage; Captain Tower, &c. &c. We were to muster about twelve; the
great dish was to be the _poulets sautés à la Malakhoff_, cooked on my
pocket bivouac-stove in the open air. All was prepared, and we were
about to start, when I learnt that we should not be allowed to enter the
tower. Colonel Daniell, who had some business at head-quarters,
promised to try and obtain permission. I at once went to General
Pelissier for the order, which could not be granted in his absence. I
saw General Rose, who said any other day he should be happy to make the
request. The appetites of my invited guests were sharpened and the
stomachs waiting, and they would have grumbled had they not been
satisfied. We therefore agreed that in lieu of having it in the
Malakhoff, we should make ourselves satisfied with the Mamelon Vert _à
la Carleton_; and a very jovial reunion we made of it. Alas! it was the
last I was destined to enjoy for some time.
Seven or eight days after, I was laid up with a very severe attack of
Crimean fever. Not being aware of the nature of my illness, I thought
rest was all I required, after the fatigue I had undergone: I therefore
went to bed--but what kind of bed?--under damp canvas, with a muddy
floor, as it had rained heavily for some days. I felt so ill, that I
could neither lie, sit, nor stand, without great suffering. Imagining
that I could conquer the disease, I did not send for the doctor.
Fortunately for me, a short time after my attack, as I lay in bed, Dr.
Linton, who often visited me, chanced to call at my tent. I told him of
my indisposition, and he at once sent me some medicine, more blankets,
and kindly offered his services; at the same time informing me that I
had a serious attack of fever. I was in the Coldstreams’ camp; and Dr.
Wyatt claimed me as his patient, and paid me a visit. He immediately
ordered me to keep my bed. For some days he watched my case most
diligently, and under his skilful care I soon got better. During my
illness I received visits and kind inquiries from almost all the heads
of the forces, for which I shall ever feel grateful; their attention was
most gratifying to my feelings, and I am proud of the consideration
evinced for me by that noble band, the British army.
Directly I recovered and was allowed to go about, I felt anxious to have
a decided answer respecting the stoves--for the matter was at that time
in abeyance. I also wished to visit the various regimental hospitals in
which my men were engaged teaching the soldiers. In my eagerness to
attend to these things, I overfatigued myself, and brought on a second
attack, much worse than the former. Dr. Wyatt was almost in despair, and
privately informed Mr. Mesnil that I was in great danger. However, owing
entirely to his great care and kind attention, in three weeks I had
partly recovered, but was so much altered that scarcely anybody could
recognise me. I one day visited Lord William Paulet, who had left
Scutari, and was on board the _Leander_ in Balaklava Bay. I was so much
changed, that neither Admiral Freemantle nor his lordship knew me. Miss
Nightingale had returned, and was much in want of my services. Not being
aware of my illness, she sent for me; and as soon as I recovered, I
waited upon and accompanied that lady to the Monastery Hospital. The
fatigue consequent upon my exertions brought me so low, that Dr. Wyatt
insisted upon my leaving the Crimea, saying he would not be responsible
for my safety any longer in that climate.
A few days before my departure the following laughable circumstance
occurred, which has already been related in the columns of the
_Illustrated News_ by an amateur correspondent:--
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR AND A CONVERSATION.
I had an amusing adventure the other evening. A stranger visited
me, and I entertained a late distinguished _attaché_ of the Reform
Club unawares. It was getting dusk, and I was very tired, having
been engaged in the hospital marquees all day--for we had a very
sudden and violent outbreak of cholera. Phillipo, my Maltese
servant, was down on his hands and knees, blowing the lighted
charcoal in my fireplace, with the intention of expediting dinner.
My fireplace, I must tell you, consists of a hole dug in the earth,
with three pieces of iron hooping stretched across by way of grate;
and a very admirable kitchen-range it is. Phillipo had just
afforded me the agreeable information that dinner would not be
ready for nearly an hour, and I was in the act of lighting my pipe,
when I heard an unaccustomed step climbing up the rock side, close
to my tent, and a musical and hilarious voice exclaimed, “Is Guy
Earl of Warwick at home?” I laid down my pipe utterly astounded;
and in another moment a hand drew aside the canvas, a head appeared
at the entrance of my tent, and the portly figure of a man speedily
completed the apparition. For a moment my visitor surveyed me,
evidently as much astonished as I was. “Ah! I see, I have made one
grand mistake!” (he spoke tolerable English, but with a decided
French accent). “You will think me strange. I was looking for my
old friend Warwick, and made sure this was his tent. We call him
Guy Earl of Warwick. Ah! ah! badinage. It may be you know him?”
By this time I had fully surveyed my visitor. He was a tall, stout,
rather handsome-looking man, aged about fifty years. He wore a
drab-coloured “wide-awake” wrapped round with a red scarf, and a
white blouse, heavily braided about the sleeves. His hair had been
black, now rapidly changing into grey; and his whiskers, moustache,
and beard (the latter primly cut), were of the same “Oxford
mixture.” Observing that the walk up the hill had slightly affected
his breathing, I invited him to take a seat on one of my
bullock-trunks, the only “ottoman” of which my Turkish tent could
boast. (It is no slight exertion to get up to my tent, as I have
pitched it almost at the top of a hill, in order, if possible, to
evade the rats, which swarm in the Crimea; indeed, I scarcely know
whether rats, flies, or fleas are the greatest nuisance.) In a few
moments we got into conversation.
“I am going to Balaklava shortly,” said the stranger; “I am going
on board ship. I have been out here some few months; my health has
been gone ever since I came. They tell me I am older ten years this
last five months. I am going to England.”
“And I am only waiting till this Crimean drama is over to follow
your example,” said I. “I must see the Russians finally driven out,
and then I go home too. As to campaigning, the curiosity which
brought me here is gratified; as to the moving accidents of war, I
have supped full of horrors!--But here comes Phillipo with the
dinner.”
The Maltese entered, and placed upon the table a piece of beef
baked in an iron pot, also some boiled potatoes. I observed that my
visitor eyed the dinner curiously, and I was almost angry to
observe the instantaneous elevation of his eyebrows, when with
great difficulty I succeeded in whittling off with a sharp
carving-knife a slice of the outside.
“Nice beef, but not done quite enough,” said my visitor.
He might well say so; it was almost raw. I stuck a fork into the
potatoes; they were as hard as pebbles. I was in despair. The
stranger laughed aloud. I was rapidly getting sulky.
“I see you have a good fire outside,” said my visitor; “that
charcoal gives a beautiful heat. Now, if you will take my advice, I
should say, cut a slice or two----“
“Excuse me,” I replied, “but if there is one thing more than
another that I pride myself on, it is my cooking. I can cook with
any fellow in the Crimea, perhaps excepting Soyer; and some people
say that he is a great humbug.”
“Do they indeed?” said he. “Well, he must be rather a clever humbug
to sell 40,000 of his books.”
“I must confess,” I said, “that his shilling Cookery-book is a
great invention. I have made many capital dishes by its direction.
The fact is, I generally superintend the cooking myself.”
“And your politeness to me has spoiled your dinner. Now look here.”
And, almost before I could interpose a word, my potatoes were in
slices, a large onion was dissected piecemeal, my beef was
submitted to the knife, a pinch or two of ration salt and pepper
completed the preparations, and my little canteen-pan was on the
fire. I looked on, regarding these proceedings with much
astonishment, and not a little jealousy. After a few minutes the
stranger gave the pan a graceful wave or two over the fire, and
then replaced it on the table. There was a dinner fit for
Sardanapalus! Never shall I forget the elegant curl of that steam,
or the exquisite odour which soon pervaded the atmosphere of my
tent. I could not help thinking of and half excusing a certain
hairy man who lived in the first ages, and who for just such a mess
of potage disposed of his estates.
“How do you like it?” said the stranger.
“Don’t talk at present,” I answered; “I consider dinner one of the
most serious duties of life.”
“Ah! ah! then you would not call Soyer a humbug to make this?”
“Soyer!” I said in disdain--“Soyer never made or invented a dish
half as good in his life! Talk about French slops in comparison
with prime English beef and onions! Bah!”
I was carried away by my enthusiasm, and quite forgot that I was at
that moment eating part of the carcase of a wretched Armenian
beast, that would not have fetched 50s. in an English market. At
last dinner was over.
“One more glass of sherry,” said the stranger, “and then I go. I am
very glad to have made your acquaintance, and I hope you will come
and see me when you come down to Balaklava. I shall be on board the
ship _Edward_ in the bay. I am going to stop there a little time
for my health. Come on board and ask for me.”
“With very great pleasure--and your name?”
“Oh! my name--_Soyer_,” said he; and he sat down and laughed till
the tears stood in his eyes.
W. C.
Soon after I left Balaklava for Scutari on board the _Imperador_,
Captain Brown. His humorous countenance would alone have sufficed to
restore the gaiety of the most shattered constitution, setting aside his
good-nature and continual kindness to his numerous passengers,
particularly the invalids. What visitor to the Crimea has not known or
heard of Captain Brown of the _Imperador_? His heart was as large as his
ship, and his mind as brilliant as his gorgeous saloon: moreover, his
table was worthy of any yachting epicure. He was in every way a credit
to that noble class of men, the pet children of the ocean, the captain’s
kingly race. At the time of my trip he was an invalid, having broken two
of his ribs; but he did not consider the case a serious one, and
consoled himself by saying this accident was nothing compared with the
one he had met with a few months before. “Then,” said he, laughing, “I
actually fell into the coal-hole, and broke my collar bone; and (showing
his lame arm) I shall be lame for life through it. However, these broken
ribs are nearly set again, and I shall soon be well. But pray do not
make me laugh--come, let us have another glass of port,” closed his
argument. (This was cheese-time dialogue.)
We had a fine passage, as well as agreeable companions in the
passengers, amongst whom were three American gentlemen just returning
from Russia. They were in Sebastopol during the storming on the 8th of
September, and had been sent by their Government upon important duty.
Owing to my weakness at the time, I have forgotten the purport of their
mission. They had been introduced to the Emperor Alexander, and spoke in
high terms of his Majesty’s courtesy. They had come from America in
their own ship, which was at that time in the Bosphorus undergoing
repairs. I was invited to dine with them some day, which I promised to
do, but was not able to keep my promise, in consequence of my continued
illness. “The dinner,” said one of them, “shall be cooked _à la_ Soyer,
for we have your book on board--the one called the _Modern Housewife_.”
I felt much flattered when they afterwards told me that my book was very
extensively used in America. “Your Cookery-book, Monsieur Soyer, is the
national book, or ‘household words.’ Every respectable family has it.
Indeed, you are as well known by reputation in America as in England.
Take this for a standing invitation. Should you ever come as far as our
American land of freedom, we invite you to be our guest.”
At this I was highly gratified, and almost promised, if I recovered, to
accept their invitation. At all events, in case I should not go, I take
this opportunity of thanking them heartily for their kind invitation, in
hopes that this book, like its predecessors, will cross the Atlantic,
and come under their notice.
To me everything on board the magnificent ship _Imperador_ wore a
smiling aspect, and I began to feel myself again. I no sooner arrived at
Scutari, than I went and visited Brigadier-General Storks, with whom I
had not the pleasure of being acquainted. He had succeeded Lord William
Paulet. I was kindly received by the general. He congratulated me in
flattering terms upon the good system I had introduced into the kitchen
department of the hospitals, of which he was at that time the governor.
I felt myself quite at home with the general, who, though an Englishman,
could have taught me my own language. He certainly spoke it more
fluently than I did myself: I had been so long in England, and had,
moreover, employed so many people of different nations--Greeks,
Armenians, Turks, French, Italians; and I must not omit two Maltese,
who, to render them justice, were worth all my other cooks put together
for intelligence and activity--that I began to forget my native tongue.
My readers can easily suppose that, amidst such a miscellany of
languages, one might easily murder one’s own. General Storks is not only
a good French scholar, but has all the tournure and appearance of the
French _beau idéal_. After about half-an-hour’s chat upon business and
other matters, I left the general, and promised to have the pleasure of
visiting him frequently during my stay in Scutari, which was to be about
a week--it being then my intention to return to England to regain my
health.
I visited my first Crimean doctor, Dr. Linton, who had left the Crimea
to replace Dr. Cumming. He would hardly condescend to know me, so much
had I altered; and I found this to be the case with every one I met. I
frightened my cooks when I entered the kitchen. They had heard that I
was dead, which I afterwards personally denied; but they did not think
it possible I could look so bad. Purveyors, comptrollers, civilian and
military doctors, Sisters of Mercy, all consoled me by saying, “I fear
you will never get over it, Monsieur Soyer.”
“Well,” I replied to some of them, “that’s my business; at all events, I
will do my best to deceive you.”
Nothing is less likely to restore a man when he is half dead than trying
to persuade him that he must succumb. Thanks to my lucky star, I have
deceived them all; and some richly deserve it, as they had laid bets
upon my chance, particularly my Zouave and another of my men. The former
answered all inquiries respecting the state of my health by, “The
governor, you see, is in a very bad way. His hash is settled; it is all
over with him. It is a pity, for he is a good man, and he had promised
to take me with him to London, a place I very much wish to visit.”
A few days after my arrival in Constantinople my health again failed me,
and having no further need for the services of my Zouave, to his great
regret we parted, but on such friendly terms, that he afterwards often
observed, “Look ye, governor, you have been a good master to me, and if
you ever recover from your serious illness, which is not very probable,
send for me--I am still your man, and will follow you anywhere and
everywhere, even to England; and if any fellow annoys you, here is the
arm (showing it to the shoulder) which will make them bleed to death and
bury them after.”
I took up my residence at Soyer House, where I enjoyed the gay and
interesting prospect for an invalid of the monster lugubrious cemetery,
or Grand Champ des Morts, on one side, and the hospital on the other.
The weather was wet and wretched--the house, as usual, splendidly
ventilated, and had been robbed of its furniture by a Greek servant I
had left there. It was, moreover, populated by rats and other vermin.
Before I could set it in order, I fell ill for the third time, and had,
in addition to my former malady, a severe attack of dysentery. I left my
dismal abode, now become unbearable, crossed the Bosphorus to Pera, and
took up my lodgings at an hotel for a few days, as I then anticipated,
having determined upon my departure for England. However, instead of
improving in health, I grew worse and worse, and was laid up for three
months; in fact, I began to fear my Zouave would win his wager. During
this time, I received notice that the order had been given for four
hundred stoves, which were to be forwarded as fast as they could be
made. I therefore decided upon remaining at Constantinople, in the hope
of being able, in the event of getting better, of returning to the
Crimea, and distributing them to the different regiments.
One day I had crossed over to Scutari, in order to visit Miss
Nightingale, who had just arrived from Balaklava, when I met the
celebrated Dr. Sutherland, who, like the rest, gave me a very
encouraging view of his scientific opinion upon the state of my health.
“For God’s sake, Soyer,” said he, “do leave this country, and go
immediately to Malta--not England--or you are a dead man.”
“Not so, doctor,” I replied; “I am much better these last few days. In
fact, I am going back to the Crimea; my stoves are expected daily, and I
must go and distribute them.”
“In that case, don’t forget to take your tombstone with you.”
“A very interesting thing to do, doctor; but I shall chance the voyage
for all that, if I improve; and as to the tombstone, I shall leave that
to friendly hands in case it is required.”
I thanked him for the valuable medical advice he had given me, as well
as the suggestion of a visit to Malta. I left my German doctor, Mr.
Morris, a very eminent man I believe, but his German style of treatment
did not seem to agree with my John Bull constitution. I had no sooner
left him and adopted the English style of treatment, (and here I cannot
refrain from expressing my thanks to a young medical gentleman named
Ambler, who was most assiduous in his kind attentions to me, and through
following his prescriptions, which were very strengthening, I ultimately
recovered,) and was able to cook nice things for myself, instead of
starving _à l’Allemande_ upon a rigorous diet, than I regained strength
enough to go about and look to business, and even to ride from hospital
to hospital--go to the Isles des Princes, Therapia, Buyukderé, &c., for
change of air, and was at last strong enough to accept the following
invitation to the grand ball at the English Embassy:--
La Vicomtesse Stratford de Redcliffe prie Monsieur Soyer de venir
passer chez elle la soirée de Jeudi, 31 Janvier, à 10 heures.
_Bal Costumé._
This grand annual festival, so eagerly looked for by the fashionables of
Pera and Constantinople, presented this year quite a new phase. In
addition to the usual diplomatic corps of the various nations
represented by their ambassadors and their noble families, there were
the _élite_ of the Allied armies. The full-dress costumes of the
diplomatic corps, as well as those of the military men, intermixed with
hundreds of exquisite fancy costumes, formed a ravishing _tout
ensemble_.
Such an assemblage of members of all nations probably never met beneath
the same roof, and very likely never will again--the advent of the war
being the cause. The greatest attraction of the ball was the assemblage
of ladies in their brilliant costumes. Independent of those from the
various embassies, were French, English, German, Greek, Armenian,
Italian, and Circassian ladies--in fact, all nations except the one the
ball was given to, viz., Turkish ladies, the only lady in that Oriental
costume turning out to be a colonel of cavalry. At an early hour, the
magnificent ball-room, which is lit from the roof by thousands of wax
lights, was full. At nine precisely the cannon was heard announcing the
arrival of the Sultan at the Palais d’Angleterre. The _coup-d’œil_
was really fairylike, upon the entrance of his Majesty and suite, the
latter attired in full uniforms, which could not fail to astonish the
most initiated eye by the gorgeous display of gold, jewels, and
diamonds, coupled with the idea that such a scene had never before been
witnessed except on high Turkish festivals, which are even more solemn
than our grand ceremonies. Upon this occasion were assembled all the
grandees and chief Turkish officers, attired in their sacred festival
uniforms, with a smile upon their countenances, instead of the usual
stolid and serious cast of features so peculiar to the Moslem during
their grand ceremonies. His Sublime Majesty was nobly though plainly
attired, and shone above his suite by his magnificent simplicity.
Lord Stratford de Redcliffe met the Sultan at the foot of the great
marble staircase, that architectural _chef-d’œuvre_ of the Palais
d’Angleterre; and her ladyship and family, surrounded by her noble
circle, received him at the summit. His Majesty, with great affability,
expressed through Lord de Redcliffe the gratification he felt at being
presented to her ladyship and her numerous visitors. He was shown
through the various saloons, which were brilliantly illuminated and
profusely decorated with choice flowers: they were all crowded. The
expression of his Majesty’s countenance showed that he took the most
vivid interest in the novel scene witnessed by him for the first time.
The ladies’ fancy dresses were in exquisite taste, particularly the
“Elizabeth Quadrilles,” led by Lady de Redcliffe and the young ladies,
forming a perfect representation in _tableau vivant_ of the Elizabethan
period, brilliantly executed. The costumes most to be admired in that
assemblage of aristocratic beauty were, the Pompadour, Ninon de
l’Enclos, ancient Greek, Circassian, Roman peasant, Albanaise,
Catalanaise, and Pierrettes.
All the gentlemen, except the diplomatic and high military corps, were
in fancy character, which gave a cheerful appearance and _ensemble_ to
the ball; and the Sultan, prior to his departure, expressed to Lord and
Lady de Redcliffe the gratification he felt at witnessing such a lively
scene.[21]
Towards five in the morning, its dazzling grandeur had disappeared, and
very forcibly presented to some of us the reverse of the medal. To a
mild evening succeeded a most tempestuous and cold morning: snow fell
heavily in the Oriental city. The change of temperature was so sudden
and violent, that one might have fancied oneself transferred by
enchantment from summer to winter, or from Paradise to Pandemonium. The
sudden change of scene and temperature presented a sad contrast to the
mind. A few friends accompanied me who were, like myself, very lightly
clad, being in character, and we had to go home in that storm of snow on
foot. On reflection, I felt that I had acted very imprudently in going
at all, in the state I was then in, and that it might prove fatal to me.
“After all,” said I to my friends, who, like myself, were floundering
about in the snow, by that time six inches deep in some places, “I
should very much regret not having been, no matter what may be the
consequences. To be present at an entertainment which the Padischah for
the first time had honoured with his presence, viz., a Christian ball,
is far from being a common thing.”
We reached our hotel door as wet as frogs, the movements of which
reptile we had been for some time imitating by jumping from tombstone to
tombstone in the Petit Champ des Morts, that being our nearest road
home. The door was opened, after we had knocked about twenty times.
Nevertheless, we had no reason to be dull or impatient, as there was
defiling before us the everlasting caravan of donkeys laden with coffins
for the daily consumption of the French hospital at Pera. Never,
perhaps, upon any stage was there such a sudden change from the sublime
to the gloomy. The door at last opened, and we were saluted with a “Very
sorry, gentlemen, to keep you waiting, but we did not expect you so
early.” It was only half-past six A.M.
I made sure that I should be ill after such a series of events, and,
wishing to be quiet, I gave special orders that no one should be
permitted to disturb me, excepting the doctor, who was in the habit of
calling occasionally. I had scarcely fallen asleep, when I was aroused
by a knock at the door, and a letter was put into my hands apprising me
that part of my stoves had arrived. I was, therefore, obliged to rise
immediately and to go in person to the Admiralty, as my head man had
left for Scutari the night before. The steamer was on its way to
Balaklava, and the captain did not know what he was to do with them. I
immediately wrote to Colonel Blane at head-quarters upon the subject,
and received the following letter in reply:--
HEAD-QUARTERS, CRIMEA, _19th March, 1856_.
SIR,--In reply to your letter of the 13th inst., I am directed to
acquaint you that the new field-stoves will not be issued by
Captain Gordon until he receives instructions to that effect from
the Quartermaster-General. Lieut.-Colonel Halliwell, Assistant
Quartermaster-General of the Fourth Division, will give you, on
your arrival in the Crimea, every information as to the hut which
was directed to be built for your use in the camp of the Fourth
Division.
I have the honour to be, Sir,
Your most obedient servant,
ROBERT BLANE, Lieut.-Col.,
_Military Secretary_.
Monsieur A. Soyer,
Barrack Hospital, Scutari.
The exertion I had undergone for nearly twenty-four hours, I fully
expected would have laid me up for as many days. On the contrary,
however, I felt as strong again as the day before the ball, and to this
event alone I attribute my cure. This proves that a sudden change may
often be beneficial in cases of violent disease. In a few days I once
more embarked on board the _Ottowa_, and was again _en route_ to the
Crimean shore, but received the following letter from Lord de Redcliffe
before leaving:--
BRITISH EMBASSY, _February 20th, 1856_.
DEAR MONSIEUR SOYER,--I cannot let you go back to the Crimea, which
I understand you think of doing, without receiving my written
thanks, in addition to those which I have already expressed by word
of mouth.
It must be a great satisfaction to you to have found so excellent a
field for the application of your skill and humanity; and I
sincerely hope that your name will be never dissociated from the
great and memorable events of the present war.
Believe me, very sincerely yours,
STRATFORD DE REDCLIFFE.
Monsieur A. Soyer.
Prior to my departure, to my great satisfaction, the Medical Staff Corps
were well established in the Barrack and General Hospitals, these being
the only ones remaining. All the responsibility of the culinary
department in those establishments was thus taken off my hands, as the
Medical Staff were well acquainted with my system, which was followed to
the last.
The following letters which I wrote to the Government and General Storks
will prove the necessity that exists for the establishment of such a
corps for military hospitals; and it ought to be established by every
nation.
_To General Storks, Commanding Officer._
BARRACK HOSPITAL, SCUTARI, _March 11th, 1856_.
MONS. LE GENERAL,--My field-stoves for the army, so long expected,
having just arrived; in a few days I shall proceed to the Crimea to
distribute them to the different regiments, as per special orders
from the War-office.
Prior to my departure hence, I am happy to inform you that the
Medical Staff Corps is now instructed by Victor, the civilian cook,
in the management of the kitchen department of the hospital under
the new system introduced by me and approved of by the medical
authorities, which up to this time (a period of twelve months) has
perfectly succeeded.
As I shall require Victor with me in the Crimea, I shall leave the
future management in the hands of the said corps: I would recommend
its introduction in all the military hospitals, it being of the
utmost importance for the regularity of the diet for the sick, that
the _employés_, when once initiated, should not be removed, as was
the case with the soldier cooks, and which removal was much
commented upon by myself and Dr. Cumming on my arrival at Scutari,
and induced me to introduce civilian cooks. The introduction of the
new corps will also tend to the regularity and economy of the
extra-diet system, which is a matter of great importance in so
large an establishment, and has till now been attended with
difficulty, as the civilian cooks could not be subjected to the
rigid discipline of the new corps.
I feel myself in duty bound to say that Mr. Robertson, the
purveyor-in-chief, has assisted me in every way to bring the system
to the state of perfection in which it now is; which system I am
confident will, by the introduction of my printed receipts, be
adopted at home in the civil as well as military hospitals--it
having been submitted to both military and civilian medical
officers, who have approved the same, and also assisted me with
their valuable knowledge and suggestions in its formation.
With the highest consideration, I have the honour to be,
Your most obedient servant,
A. SOYER.
_To the Right Hon. Lord Panmure, Secretary-at-War._
BARRACK HOSPITAL, SCUTARI, _March 11th, 1856_.
MY LORD,--The ship _Cape of Good Hope_, with the first consignment
of my stoves on board, has just passed through the Bosphorus to
Balaklava, and, to my great disappointment, without stopping here;
as I was in daily expectation of her arrival in order to proceed in
her to the Crimea, and distribute them to the different regiments,
having with that view requested from the Admiralty-office, and the
wharf-master at Scutari, notice of her arrival. I have just been
apprised that the ship was ordered direct for Balaklava, and I
shall follow her as early as possible. I have written to
head-quarters to that effect, and beg to enclose the copy of a
letter to General Storks, in which your lordship will perceive how
highly I approve of the introduction of the new Medical Staff
Corps.
I have the honour to be,
Your most obedient servant,
A. SOYER.