M. Soyer at Constantinople.To the Editor of the Times.Sir,—In reply to no end of inquiries from persons meeting me in the streets of Pera, Bujukderé, Therapia, the Isles des Princes, &c., as to what I am doing in Turkey now the whole of the army has gone, and as every one here seems so anxious, probably others may feel interested, it has struck me, sir, to inform you personally why I remain here. In the first place, Constantinople and its vicinity are far from being destitute of vital interest, and those who have only seen its beauty from the Bosphorus, and then at first sight condemned the interior of this gigantic city of Constantine, have seen nothing, and are utterly incompetent to speak of it, much less to write upon the curiosities, manners, customs, and way of living, of this singular and almost unknown people, though lodged nearly in the centre of Europe. Thanks now to my last visit to Constantinople, which time nor duty did not admit of before, I now know it and its neighbourhood as well as London, and much better than Paris. I am pretty well acquainted with Turkish institutions, as well as manners and habits, which indeed deviate so much from our fashions that they cannot prove uninteresting to relate, if not to follow. Though so many authors have written upon Turkey, they have yet left me several virgin pages, and those pages are upon the national cookery of the Moslem people.They have many dishes which are indeed worthy of the table ofthe greatest epicure, and I shall not consider my Oriental mission terminated to my satisfaction till I see in the bills of fare of France and England their purée de volaille au ris, tomates, et concombres, and purée de Bahmia aromatisée à la crême, by the side of our potages à la Reine, Tortue, Jullienne, and Mulligatawny; near our whitebait, red mullets, turbot, and salmon, their fried sardines, bar fish, gurnet, sturgeon, red mullets aux herbes, oyster pilaff, mackerel, salad, &c.; and with our roast beef, saddle-back of mutton, and haunch of venison, their sheep, lamb, or kid roasted whole, and the monster and delicious kebab; by our entrées of suprème de volaille, salmis, and vol-aux-vents, their doulmas kioftee, sis kebabs, haharram bouton, pilaff au cailles, &c.; with our vegetables, their Bahmia, fried leeks and celery, Partligan bastici, and sakath kabac bastici; with our macédoines, jellies, charlottes, &c., their lokounds, moukahalibi, Baclava gyneristi, ekmekataive. Their coffee, iced milk, and sherbet—in fact, all their principal dishes might, with the best advantage, be adopted and Frenchified and Anglicised. Not so their method of serving, in which they mix sweet and savoury dishes throughout the repast; and less likely still their method of eating with their fingers, though, after several trials, I must admit that it has some peculiar advantages; their sauces being of a thinnish nature, require to be absorbed with a piece of bread in order to partake of them, which could not be performed equally well with a knife or fork. Their custom of serving only one hot dish at a time is not new to us, we having borrowed it from the Russians, who probably took it from the Turks. No nation as yet has been able to boast of having introduced a single innovation in the way of living to this singularly incommunicative race, the cause of which I can only attribute to the immense distance placed between the relative social position of the two sexes: for while in Europe the “beau sexe” forms the soul of society and sociability, in Turkey they are kept in entire seclusion, and almost without any kind of education. My stay here has not only produced me the high honour of an interview with the Sultan, but also the advantage of becoming acquainted with one of the most useful and principal officers of his Sublime Majesty’s household, called the Hachji Bachji, or general-in-chief of the culinary department of his Sublime Majesty the Padischah, and he speaks with pride of having held that office five years with the late Sultan and Padischah Mahmoud, and has now retained it seventeen years with his present Sublime Majesty. Independent of the private kitchen of the Sultan, he has under his command in the various palaces about six hundred men cooks, and had in the time of Sultan Mahmoud upwards of one thousand. Having expressed a wish to become acquainted with some of the principal Turkish dishes, and the way in which the dinner was served, he not only gave me the required information, but invited me to a dinner, “à la Turc,” at the new palace of Dolma Batchi. We were only four guests, including himself; above seventy small dishes formed a luxurious bill of fare, which, after the Turkish fashion,were partaken of quickly, as the Moslems only taste a mouthful of each dish which may take their fancy. He then informed me that the repast we had partaken of was thefac-simileof the dinner daily served up to his Majesty the Padischah, who always takes his meals alone, and as no bill of fare is made, every dish in the Turkish cookery code must be prepared daily throughout the year, and only varies in quantity according to the abundance or scarcity of the provisions to be obtained in the various seasons, so that his Sublime Majesty may find everything he may desire within his Imperial call. Further details upon this subject I shall give when I publish my other work, which will be entitled “The Culinary Wonder of all Nations.”The Armenian cookery turns very much upon the Turkish style, while the Greek has a type of its own, which, I regret to say, is far from meeting with my approbation, though in high Greek families I have partaken of most excellent dinners; but the Turkish dishes were always the most satisfactory, the common cookery of the Greeks being sloppy and greasy, while,per contra, the Turk has studied the art of preserving the essence of all the provisions employed, which method will at all times produce a palatable as well as a nutritive food. Prior to my departure, which will be in a few days, I shall pay a visit to Scutari, to contrast the present state of that busy spot with its now, as I hear, totally deserted aspect. My remarks upon this subject I shall do myself the pleasure of sending in a future letter, in hopes that they may prove interesting to the thousands who have visited that celebrated place on the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus.With the highest consideration, I have the honour to remain,Sir, your obedient servant,Pera, Constantinople, Hotel d’Angleterre,A. Soyer.Sept. 8, 1856.
M. Soyer at Constantinople.To the Editor of the Times.
Sir,—In reply to no end of inquiries from persons meeting me in the streets of Pera, Bujukderé, Therapia, the Isles des Princes, &c., as to what I am doing in Turkey now the whole of the army has gone, and as every one here seems so anxious, probably others may feel interested, it has struck me, sir, to inform you personally why I remain here. In the first place, Constantinople and its vicinity are far from being destitute of vital interest, and those who have only seen its beauty from the Bosphorus, and then at first sight condemned the interior of this gigantic city of Constantine, have seen nothing, and are utterly incompetent to speak of it, much less to write upon the curiosities, manners, customs, and way of living, of this singular and almost unknown people, though lodged nearly in the centre of Europe. Thanks now to my last visit to Constantinople, which time nor duty did not admit of before, I now know it and its neighbourhood as well as London, and much better than Paris. I am pretty well acquainted with Turkish institutions, as well as manners and habits, which indeed deviate so much from our fashions that they cannot prove uninteresting to relate, if not to follow. Though so many authors have written upon Turkey, they have yet left me several virgin pages, and those pages are upon the national cookery of the Moslem people.
They have many dishes which are indeed worthy of the table ofthe greatest epicure, and I shall not consider my Oriental mission terminated to my satisfaction till I see in the bills of fare of France and England their purée de volaille au ris, tomates, et concombres, and purée de Bahmia aromatisée à la crême, by the side of our potages à la Reine, Tortue, Jullienne, and Mulligatawny; near our whitebait, red mullets, turbot, and salmon, their fried sardines, bar fish, gurnet, sturgeon, red mullets aux herbes, oyster pilaff, mackerel, salad, &c.; and with our roast beef, saddle-back of mutton, and haunch of venison, their sheep, lamb, or kid roasted whole, and the monster and delicious kebab; by our entrées of suprème de volaille, salmis, and vol-aux-vents, their doulmas kioftee, sis kebabs, haharram bouton, pilaff au cailles, &c.; with our vegetables, their Bahmia, fried leeks and celery, Partligan bastici, and sakath kabac bastici; with our macédoines, jellies, charlottes, &c., their lokounds, moukahalibi, Baclava gyneristi, ekmekataive. Their coffee, iced milk, and sherbet—in fact, all their principal dishes might, with the best advantage, be adopted and Frenchified and Anglicised. Not so their method of serving, in which they mix sweet and savoury dishes throughout the repast; and less likely still their method of eating with their fingers, though, after several trials, I must admit that it has some peculiar advantages; their sauces being of a thinnish nature, require to be absorbed with a piece of bread in order to partake of them, which could not be performed equally well with a knife or fork. Their custom of serving only one hot dish at a time is not new to us, we having borrowed it from the Russians, who probably took it from the Turks. No nation as yet has been able to boast of having introduced a single innovation in the way of living to this singularly incommunicative race, the cause of which I can only attribute to the immense distance placed between the relative social position of the two sexes: for while in Europe the “beau sexe” forms the soul of society and sociability, in Turkey they are kept in entire seclusion, and almost without any kind of education. My stay here has not only produced me the high honour of an interview with the Sultan, but also the advantage of becoming acquainted with one of the most useful and principal officers of his Sublime Majesty’s household, called the Hachji Bachji, or general-in-chief of the culinary department of his Sublime Majesty the Padischah, and he speaks with pride of having held that office five years with the late Sultan and Padischah Mahmoud, and has now retained it seventeen years with his present Sublime Majesty. Independent of the private kitchen of the Sultan, he has under his command in the various palaces about six hundred men cooks, and had in the time of Sultan Mahmoud upwards of one thousand. Having expressed a wish to become acquainted with some of the principal Turkish dishes, and the way in which the dinner was served, he not only gave me the required information, but invited me to a dinner, “à la Turc,” at the new palace of Dolma Batchi. We were only four guests, including himself; above seventy small dishes formed a luxurious bill of fare, which, after the Turkish fashion,were partaken of quickly, as the Moslems only taste a mouthful of each dish which may take their fancy. He then informed me that the repast we had partaken of was thefac-simileof the dinner daily served up to his Majesty the Padischah, who always takes his meals alone, and as no bill of fare is made, every dish in the Turkish cookery code must be prepared daily throughout the year, and only varies in quantity according to the abundance or scarcity of the provisions to be obtained in the various seasons, so that his Sublime Majesty may find everything he may desire within his Imperial call. Further details upon this subject I shall give when I publish my other work, which will be entitled “The Culinary Wonder of all Nations.”
The Armenian cookery turns very much upon the Turkish style, while the Greek has a type of its own, which, I regret to say, is far from meeting with my approbation, though in high Greek families I have partaken of most excellent dinners; but the Turkish dishes were always the most satisfactory, the common cookery of the Greeks being sloppy and greasy, while,per contra, the Turk has studied the art of preserving the essence of all the provisions employed, which method will at all times produce a palatable as well as a nutritive food. Prior to my departure, which will be in a few days, I shall pay a visit to Scutari, to contrast the present state of that busy spot with its now, as I hear, totally deserted aspect. My remarks upon this subject I shall do myself the pleasure of sending in a future letter, in hopes that they may prove interesting to the thousands who have visited that celebrated place on the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus.
With the highest consideration, I have the honour to remain,
Sir, your obedient servant,Pera, Constantinople, Hotel d’Angleterre,A. Soyer.
Sept. 8, 1856.
This visit was more laborious than most persons may imagine, but the idea of beginning a new and agreeable campaign, after having terminated a long, dreary, and perilous one, was very pleasing. I was free as regarded my actions, and my health was partly restored. Shortly after my arrival at Scutari, my governmental mission as well as hospital duties ceased, these establishments being closed. I therefore settled everything with the Purveyor-in-chief, Mr. J. S. Robertson, General Storks, Miss Nightingale, and Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, who all honoured me with documents expressive of their high approbation of my services. Prior to my final departure, I sent the full report of my proceedings and labours at Scutari, as well as in the camp, to Lord Stratford de Redcliffe.
The following is his Excellency’s reply:—
Therapia,August 2nd, 1856.Dear Monsieur Soyer,—I return you the papers you were good enough to send for my perusal. The honourable testimonials you have obtained have been well earned.I shall have much pleasure in asking the Sultan’s permission as to your sending him the articles you mention.Sincerely yours,Stratford de Redcliffe.A MonsieurMonsieur Soyer.
Therapia,August 2nd, 1856.
Dear Monsieur Soyer,—I return you the papers you were good enough to send for my perusal. The honourable testimonials you have obtained have been well earned.
I shall have much pleasure in asking the Sultan’s permission as to your sending him the articles you mention.
Sincerely yours,Stratford de Redcliffe.
A MonsieurMonsieur Soyer.
The day after the receipt of the above letter from his Excellency I was summoned by Mr. Etienne Pizanni, the first dragoman of the Embassy, who left a message at the Hôtel d’Angleterre to the effect that the following morning I was to be at Topané Cannon Foundry landing-place, with the various articles I intended to offer for the acceptance of his Sublime Majesty. At ten o’clock precisely I arrived. The caique of the Embassy was already waiting. A few minutes after we had crossed the short and chopping waves,aux collerettes d’argent, or bright silver hue, which, with the morning breeze, take birth in that fairy lake, the cradle of romance and beauty, as night approaches. Shortly after we were safely landed on the monster marble quay, the private landing-place of the Sultan, which proudly unites the Bosphorus with the gigantic palace of Dolma Batchi; from here we were inducted to the Grand Chamberlain’s kiosque, where coffee-cups and chiboques of great value, being ornamented with gold, pearls, emeralds, and diamonds, were filled by slaves and handed to us, and partaken of with great gusto.
In a few minutes Prince Galamaki was shown into the apartment. He had come for the purpose of taking leave of his Sublime master prior to leaving Turkey for his post as ambassador to the Court of Vienna; and having myself had the honour of knowing this distinguished diplomatist when he was ambassador to the Court of St. James’s, he at once recognised me, and the conversation being opened by Mr. Pizanni, we had a most interesting dialogue on semi-diplomatic matters, embracing a period of fifteen years.
Two hours had now elapsed. Chibouques and coffee had been handed round many times, when the Prince remarked that his Majesty was later than usual. Shortly after, an officer of the palace entered, and desired Mr. Pizanni and myself to accompany him to the Sultan’s private palace, a distance of several hundred yards. Crossing a floral carpet of sweet perfume, interwoven with plots of choice exotic plants and flowers, marble fountains, vases, baths, &c., we ascended a staircase, and were introduced to a simply, but costly-furnished apartment, when Mr. Pizanni remarked that we had already made a near approach to the person of his Majesty. Hardly had he uttered the remark, when a eunuch entered, and requested us to follow him. We passed through several long dark corridors, richly tapestried, and here and there interposed with coloured glass, which threw a golden-yellow light, reflecting a peculiar hue on the eunuchs who were here and there stationed, keeping guard. Silence reigned supreme. We soon reached a very spacious area. A screen was suddenly removed, when, standing on the summit of a grand crystal staircase, most brilliantly illuminated with resplendent vermilion glass shades, stood erect a figure, which, at first sight, I took for an idol or statue belonging to this enchanting place. Mr. Pizanni advanced, with great veneration, towards it, bidding me follow, over a highly-polished glassy-looking floor, which I did not without fear of slipping—when, to my astonishment, I found myself standing before Abdul Medjid Khan, the Padischah, who, though simply attired in a rich robe de chambre and a plain fez,—which I believe is the oriental dress of reception,—the sublimity of the monarch’s countenance will never be effaced from my memory. Mr. Pizanni, addressing his Majesty in the Turkish language, introduced me, when, through that gentleman, I ascertained that his Majesty wished me well, and that his heart was well disposed towards me (meaning a great deal in a few words). His Majesty was then informed of the purport of my mission, commencing at the hospitals of the Bosphorus, then in the Crimea. His approbation was expressed bythe slow movement of the head from left to right, the body remaining motionless. Then took place the offering of my various productions, culinary and literary, eight in number, which lay on a large, richly-ornamented piece of furniture, in the centre of this large cupola. The simplicity of the field-stove obtained his Majesty’s high approbation. “I well understand them,” said he, talking all the time to Mr. Pizanni, who translated word for word to me. After having complimented me very highly on the services of my undertaking, “I am much pleased,” were the last words his Majesty uttered. We then retreated backwards. Though the conversation had been varied and animated, not a movement on the part of his Majesty did I perceive all the twenty minutes we were conversing. We left the idol as we found it.[31]
The time fixed for my stay in the far-famed city of Constantinople was fast drawing to a close; a short visit to the Isles des Princes, that focus of nightly revels, was to put a final seal to my Mahometan review. I went there on a Sunday, and had the pleasure of meeting, amongst thousands, with Admiral Lyons and his maritime staff. Here monks, caidjees, donkeys, green fruit, cakes, fireworks, and gambling-tables thrive in a most flourishing manner. As the night approached, the Admiral left to join his ship, escorted down the silvery Bosphorus by hundreds of lighted torches, and shouts from thousands of visitors. The next day I was on board theAlbert, anchored before Bujukdéré, and bade adieu to the gallant admiral. I then paid my farewell respects to his Excellency Lord de Redcliffe and his family; the day was now fixed for my departure, everything was packed up, and my Russian boy, Daniel Maximovitch Chimachenka, had, with the greatest intelligence and delight, corded my last box, and seemed as if he was already breathing the air of freedom. For some time previous, a monster gipsy party had been in embryo; illness had prevented this rural festivity comingoff, but on my return to Pera, it was luckily fixed for the following day—the illustrious Mr. Messirie being the giver of this monster pic-nic. At five the next morning every one was attired in their best summer array, and streams of people were pouring from all directions to the Galata Pier. A steamer, gaily trimmed, was waiting for the guests. When all were on board, the paddles commenced their revolutions; and, as we floated along the limpid bay of the Golden Horn, Greek music kept time with our race. Soon we arrived at Therapia, and landed on the pier of the Hôtel d’Angleterre, where light refreshments were provided for the innumerable guests. About forty caiques with double caidjees were waiting near the shore, while two caiques of large dimensions were filled with instrumental musicians. We then all started, crossing the Bosphorus towards Ibraham Pasha’s marble palace, and to the melodious sound of the music, we landed in one of the many pretty valleys of which the Bosphorus alone can boast; it was called the Sultana, near the Sultan’s valley. Such a culinary encampment I never before beheld; four men-cooks were busily engaged in dishing up sixteen hotentrées, fowls were being grilled, quails and dotrelles were being roasted, kaboub frizzling, and all kinds of fish were submitted to the science of cookery; four sheep and two lambs were roasted whole in the adjacent forest, while a table for about a hundred and fifty people was laid out under the shadowy folds of a huge tree, luxuriously situated at the base of a delightful Turkish fountain; sherbet, ices, jam, and cakes were also freely partaken of. At twelve, to the minute, the open-air banquet was placed upon the table, and soon the warning note of the tum-tum assembled all around it. Oriental fruit and flowers profusely ornamented the festive board, while Smyrna melons of large dimensions perfumed the air. The banquet lasted two hours, after which dancing and oriental games were in full swing in all directions, including the Greek, Armenian, and Albany dances, accompanied by the twang of music, to the great delight of the participators, as well as the admiration of several hundred Turkish spectators, both men and women,dressed in their best, this being their Sabbath. It gave this scene a purely oriental aspect, which cannot be beheld anywhere but under the heavenly paradise of Mahomet. As the evening approached, more animated became the party, and no finale could have wound up the day’s fun better than the dance of all creeds, each dancer holding a lighted torch, which flickered about the forest like so many will-o’-the-wisps. Turkish fireworks terminated this day of romance, which ended to the sorrow of all. Iron pots elevated on poles, along the shore, filled with wood and vitriol, were then fired, throwing a blaze of light on the caidjees, who were gaily fluttering round the shore on the agitated ripples of the Bosphorus; each caique, headed by its pot of fire—blue, green, or yellow—bands of music, hurrahs of twelve times three to Mr. Messirie, the donor of this magnificent fête, and at midnight, landing at Therapia terminated this ever to be remembered day.
My last day was devoted to my grand review of the Asiatic shore, Barrack Hospital, &c., and I devoted the morning hour to my final call on numerous oriental friends from whom I had received so much kindness and friendship during my long sojourn in the East.
Arriving early the next morning at Smyrna, where forests of fig-trees abound, caravans of camels and noted brigands thrive—while at the Hôtel des deux Augustes, I wrote my Scutari journal, of which the following is a copy, being the continuation of that which appears at page 496:
Hôtel des deux Augustes, Smyrna,September 14th, 1856.Having devoted my last day in Constantinople to visit the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus, I and a few friends went accordingly to Scutari. Our first visit was to the Selinie Quicklaci, so well known by the English as the Barrack Hospital, in anticipation of gathering the latest details relating to that once so celebrated spot. We found it occupied by four thousand Turkish soldiers of the Imperial Guard, lately arrived from Erzeroum. Ten or twelve thousand is the number it will hold; but at a pinch, as we were informed by one of the officers, “and no one acquainted with the place can doubt it,” fifteen thousand may be quartered in thismonster barracks, which, in consequence of the events of the last three years, will be long remembered in the history of England.After some formalities, we obtained permission from the governor, Selim Pacha, to enter the precincts of the late British Hospital; and the scene, I need not say, was entirely changed, everything having put on an Oriental aspect, and nothing remains as evidence of its late occupation by the British army but a few shelves and numbers of the beds in the various wards and corridors; and on the staircase, the partitions of the dispensaries and extra-diet kitchens, which in a few weeks longer will have passed into oblivion. The various offices which were from morning to night crowded, as well as the residence of General Storks, are now occupied by the commanding officers of the Turkish army, by whom business seems to be transacted quietly by signs, salutations, and kissing of hands, such being the Turkish fashion, scarcely a word being spoken by these living automatons. We were very politely shown through the building, accompanied by several officers. The large kitchen in the yard, which I had the fitting of, still remains, the partition which formerly divided it to form an extra-diet kitchen only being removed, making it now one vast cook-house. The twenty-four large boilers, set in marble, were in use for making the daily meal for the troops, which that day was the meat Pilaff, a dish suitable for the million of any nation, it being composed principally of rice, and the addition of a little spice or curry-powder will make it highly palatable to the English soldier. The kitchen-floor, after the Turkish fashion, was anything but cleanly; but in their cooking apparatus the contrary exists, the copper boilers being well tinned and very clean. The meat-house, store-rooms, &c., present but a meagre appearance contrasted with that, when filled with meat and provisions of all kinds, during their occupation by the English. Returning thence, we were attracted to the building by a band of music rehearsing in the Malakoff ward, the brassy sounds of which in former days would have proved anything but harmonious to the ears of the patients: several airs arranged by the late Donizetti, the Sultan’s band-master, and brother of the celebrated maestro, were performed for us with great precision, especially “God save the Queen” and the “Sultan’s March,” though still with the Oriental twang, which at first is anything but agreeable or pleasing to a European ear. We then walked round the barracks, through those I recollect once encumbered, but now empty corridors, the immensity of which is almost indescribable: the centre of the pavement alone, which in some parts is nearly worn out by the daily traffic between the rows of beds placed on either side, brought to my mind those days of sorrow and anguish in which so many brave men had nobly expired in the service of their country. Before leaving, I was very anxious to visit another department, viz., the one so lately occupied by Miss Nightingale, when, to my astonishment, ourcicerone, without being asked, conducted us to it. But what an extraordinary change was there!—no longer were hangings of black cloth curtains before thedoors; neither was seen within the pleasing appearance of the well though simply furnished apartment, erst filled on all sides with religious books, &c., relics of departed soldiers bequeathed to their friends and relations, and numerous samples of diet comforts, many of which I had experimented upon before that benevolent lady in her sanctorum. The walls were also devoid of a fine portrait of her Majesty, and numerous scripture drawings; added to that, the loss of the gentle voice of that excellent lady mingled with that of her devoted satellites. No article of furniture is now to be seen there, with the exception of a common Turkish divan, “which is far from breaking the monotony of the bare whitewashed walls,” round which were seated a dozen of dark-coloured warlike-looking officers, who very politely rose when we entered. Hardly had we seated ourselves, at their request, than an army of Chiboukchi Bachis entered and presented us with long chibouques; which while we were smoking, the same formidable army re-appeared, each bearing a cup of coffee and sherbet, which we partook of; and a few minutes after, we retired, through thick clouds of smoke, the smell of coffee, and no end of salutations from our illustrious hosts, among whom were Osman Pacha, whose politeness will for ever be engraved upon my memory. My mind was so struck with the suddenchangement à vueat the time, that I could almost have attributed it to an effect of the magic wand of Harlequin.Thanking them for their kind entertainment, we retired, they politely conducting us to the grand entrance. We then took a stroll through the town, which we found comparatively deserted: the names of the streets remain, as well as the designations of Clarendon House, Russell House, Chaplain House, Victoria House, &c. We next visited Hyder Pacha, called the General Hospital, where there were about three hundred and forty sick, and amongst them were about ten sick Polish soldiers: there were no cases of cholera, and but few of fever, dysentery, &c. Nothing there seemed changed, except the introduction of Turkish utensils in lieu of English ones. The numbers of the beds were engraved upon copper crescents, and each man had a round tinned copper tray, tankard, and spitting-vase; and here and there were copper water-jugs of an elegant form, and basins of elaborate workmanship for the doctors to wash their hands. Cleanliness seemed to be closely attended to. The kitchen there remains exactly as I had planned it; and the extra diets, though very limited, were prepared on charcoal stoves.We then went to the Cemetery, which we found in very good order, with the exception of two tombstones not yet fixed; one in memory of Capt. W. R. N. Campbell, of the 5th Dragoon Guards, who died at Scutari, the 23rd of December, 1854; and the other to the memory of Lieut. J. M. Holford, 25th Regiment, who died November 29th, 1854. And though there was a Turkish guard or labourer in the Cemetery, he could not inform our dragoman when or where they were to be placed; and as there are no English remaining in Scutari, it would be prudent of the friends of the deceased to inquire as to theirplacement, for if left to the Turkish authorities a mistake might occur, and we could find no indication of the spot where the remains were interred. The grave of Major Sorrell, with whom I had the pleasure of being acquainted, and whose death (by fever) was so lamented, he being only ill one day, is marked by a plain piece of board bearing his name. There is also the grave of the Russian General Chekachoff, who was wounded at the Alma and taken prisoner: he died a few days after his arrival at Scutari, in his last moments expressing his gratitude for the kindness he had received from the medical officers who attended him. This fact was related to me by Signor Marco Vido of the British Embassy, who was present at his decease. His grave bears no more permanent memento.The spot selected for the Scutari Monument about to be erected, though not in the centre of the Cemetery, will be a lasting national testimonial to the memory of the brave, as it will form a landmark which cannot fail to be seen from the Sea of Marmora, Pera, Stamboul, the Isles des Princes, Kadikoi, &c. &c. The tombstones, though not numerous, are well executed and in good preservation: amongst them may be mentioned those of the Honourable Grey Neville, 5th Dragoon Guards, and Henry Neville, Grenadier Guards, sons of Lord Braybrooke, surviving each other only six days—both wounded at Inkermann. There is also a memento to William Frederic Viscount Chewton, son of the Earl of Waldegrave, killed at Alma, September 20th, 1854.The wooden cavalry barracks present a most desolate heap of ruins and destruction, and are about to be removed.We were now obliged to return through the grand Champ des Morts, the vast and mournful spot where millions of souls have rested for centuries in the dark shade of the cypress forest; and I can assure you, Mr. Editor, that the day was anything but one of gaiety, but, on the contrary, very solemn though interesting.With the highest consideration, I have the honour to remain, &c.
Hôtel des deux Augustes, Smyrna,September 14th, 1856.
Having devoted my last day in Constantinople to visit the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus, I and a few friends went accordingly to Scutari. Our first visit was to the Selinie Quicklaci, so well known by the English as the Barrack Hospital, in anticipation of gathering the latest details relating to that once so celebrated spot. We found it occupied by four thousand Turkish soldiers of the Imperial Guard, lately arrived from Erzeroum. Ten or twelve thousand is the number it will hold; but at a pinch, as we were informed by one of the officers, “and no one acquainted with the place can doubt it,” fifteen thousand may be quartered in thismonster barracks, which, in consequence of the events of the last three years, will be long remembered in the history of England.
After some formalities, we obtained permission from the governor, Selim Pacha, to enter the precincts of the late British Hospital; and the scene, I need not say, was entirely changed, everything having put on an Oriental aspect, and nothing remains as evidence of its late occupation by the British army but a few shelves and numbers of the beds in the various wards and corridors; and on the staircase, the partitions of the dispensaries and extra-diet kitchens, which in a few weeks longer will have passed into oblivion. The various offices which were from morning to night crowded, as well as the residence of General Storks, are now occupied by the commanding officers of the Turkish army, by whom business seems to be transacted quietly by signs, salutations, and kissing of hands, such being the Turkish fashion, scarcely a word being spoken by these living automatons. We were very politely shown through the building, accompanied by several officers. The large kitchen in the yard, which I had the fitting of, still remains, the partition which formerly divided it to form an extra-diet kitchen only being removed, making it now one vast cook-house. The twenty-four large boilers, set in marble, were in use for making the daily meal for the troops, which that day was the meat Pilaff, a dish suitable for the million of any nation, it being composed principally of rice, and the addition of a little spice or curry-powder will make it highly palatable to the English soldier. The kitchen-floor, after the Turkish fashion, was anything but cleanly; but in their cooking apparatus the contrary exists, the copper boilers being well tinned and very clean. The meat-house, store-rooms, &c., present but a meagre appearance contrasted with that, when filled with meat and provisions of all kinds, during their occupation by the English. Returning thence, we were attracted to the building by a band of music rehearsing in the Malakoff ward, the brassy sounds of which in former days would have proved anything but harmonious to the ears of the patients: several airs arranged by the late Donizetti, the Sultan’s band-master, and brother of the celebrated maestro, were performed for us with great precision, especially “God save the Queen” and the “Sultan’s March,” though still with the Oriental twang, which at first is anything but agreeable or pleasing to a European ear. We then walked round the barracks, through those I recollect once encumbered, but now empty corridors, the immensity of which is almost indescribable: the centre of the pavement alone, which in some parts is nearly worn out by the daily traffic between the rows of beds placed on either side, brought to my mind those days of sorrow and anguish in which so many brave men had nobly expired in the service of their country. Before leaving, I was very anxious to visit another department, viz., the one so lately occupied by Miss Nightingale, when, to my astonishment, ourcicerone, without being asked, conducted us to it. But what an extraordinary change was there!—no longer were hangings of black cloth curtains before thedoors; neither was seen within the pleasing appearance of the well though simply furnished apartment, erst filled on all sides with religious books, &c., relics of departed soldiers bequeathed to their friends and relations, and numerous samples of diet comforts, many of which I had experimented upon before that benevolent lady in her sanctorum. The walls were also devoid of a fine portrait of her Majesty, and numerous scripture drawings; added to that, the loss of the gentle voice of that excellent lady mingled with that of her devoted satellites. No article of furniture is now to be seen there, with the exception of a common Turkish divan, “which is far from breaking the monotony of the bare whitewashed walls,” round which were seated a dozen of dark-coloured warlike-looking officers, who very politely rose when we entered. Hardly had we seated ourselves, at their request, than an army of Chiboukchi Bachis entered and presented us with long chibouques; which while we were smoking, the same formidable army re-appeared, each bearing a cup of coffee and sherbet, which we partook of; and a few minutes after, we retired, through thick clouds of smoke, the smell of coffee, and no end of salutations from our illustrious hosts, among whom were Osman Pacha, whose politeness will for ever be engraved upon my memory. My mind was so struck with the suddenchangement à vueat the time, that I could almost have attributed it to an effect of the magic wand of Harlequin.
Thanking them for their kind entertainment, we retired, they politely conducting us to the grand entrance. We then took a stroll through the town, which we found comparatively deserted: the names of the streets remain, as well as the designations of Clarendon House, Russell House, Chaplain House, Victoria House, &c. We next visited Hyder Pacha, called the General Hospital, where there were about three hundred and forty sick, and amongst them were about ten sick Polish soldiers: there were no cases of cholera, and but few of fever, dysentery, &c. Nothing there seemed changed, except the introduction of Turkish utensils in lieu of English ones. The numbers of the beds were engraved upon copper crescents, and each man had a round tinned copper tray, tankard, and spitting-vase; and here and there were copper water-jugs of an elegant form, and basins of elaborate workmanship for the doctors to wash their hands. Cleanliness seemed to be closely attended to. The kitchen there remains exactly as I had planned it; and the extra diets, though very limited, were prepared on charcoal stoves.
We then went to the Cemetery, which we found in very good order, with the exception of two tombstones not yet fixed; one in memory of Capt. W. R. N. Campbell, of the 5th Dragoon Guards, who died at Scutari, the 23rd of December, 1854; and the other to the memory of Lieut. J. M. Holford, 25th Regiment, who died November 29th, 1854. And though there was a Turkish guard or labourer in the Cemetery, he could not inform our dragoman when or where they were to be placed; and as there are no English remaining in Scutari, it would be prudent of the friends of the deceased to inquire as to theirplacement, for if left to the Turkish authorities a mistake might occur, and we could find no indication of the spot where the remains were interred. The grave of Major Sorrell, with whom I had the pleasure of being acquainted, and whose death (by fever) was so lamented, he being only ill one day, is marked by a plain piece of board bearing his name. There is also the grave of the Russian General Chekachoff, who was wounded at the Alma and taken prisoner: he died a few days after his arrival at Scutari, in his last moments expressing his gratitude for the kindness he had received from the medical officers who attended him. This fact was related to me by Signor Marco Vido of the British Embassy, who was present at his decease. His grave bears no more permanent memento.
The spot selected for the Scutari Monument about to be erected, though not in the centre of the Cemetery, will be a lasting national testimonial to the memory of the brave, as it will form a landmark which cannot fail to be seen from the Sea of Marmora, Pera, Stamboul, the Isles des Princes, Kadikoi, &c. &c. The tombstones, though not numerous, are well executed and in good preservation: amongst them may be mentioned those of the Honourable Grey Neville, 5th Dragoon Guards, and Henry Neville, Grenadier Guards, sons of Lord Braybrooke, surviving each other only six days—both wounded at Inkermann. There is also a memento to William Frederic Viscount Chewton, son of the Earl of Waldegrave, killed at Alma, September 20th, 1854.
The wooden cavalry barracks present a most desolate heap of ruins and destruction, and are about to be removed.
We were now obliged to return through the grand Champ des Morts, the vast and mournful spot where millions of souls have rested for centuries in the dark shade of the cypress forest; and I can assure you, Mr. Editor, that the day was anything but one of gaiety, but, on the contrary, very solemn though interesting.
With the highest consideration, I have the honour to remain, &c.
Our next stay was at Malta, where I received a most gratifying reception from the governor, military and civil authorities, as well as from the gentlemen of the press. A stay of ten days in that city of ancient chivalry will in my memory form an historical page of most agreeable reminiscences, and could I have accepted all the dinners offered me by the officers of various regiments, whom I had met in the Crimea, three months would hardly have sufficed in fulfilling the invitations. To Colonel Haley of the 47th, I cannot but feel grateful for the magnificent banquet he gave on the occasion,when about fifty of the heads of the army there stationed sat around the festive board, and at which our epicurean soldier distinguished himself by concocting a most excellent potage aux crevettes, and two dressed fish, peculiar to Malta.[32]
Our next stay was at Marseilles, and being accompanied by Mr. Robertson, the celebrated photographist of Constantinople, we once more degustated the celebrated bouillabaisse. We afterwards took a stroll through the part of France so lately inundated, where we met the celebrated Horace Vernet; after a few hours at Lyons, we reached Paris the same evening, which to our astonished eyes displayed quite a new aspect, with her Rivoli rods of fire, magnificent palaces, and stupendous streets. Above two years had elapsed since my last visit, and had created, under the guidance of the imperial wand of Napoleon III., these wonders. After gazing with amazement over that far-famed city, I retired to my native place, Meaux en Brie, the birthplace of Bossuet, which I had not visited for upwards of twenty-six years, having only a local interest in the place, I being the last of my family left. During the progress of this work, when returning to Paris, I had, after an application, the honour of an interview with his Imperial Majesty the Emperor, who took a most vivid interest in the descriptive narrative I gave him of my Eastern mission, and entered into the most minute details on hospital and camp cookery, &c. Our interview took place at the Chateau des Tuileries, and lasted about half an hour; and after submitting and explaining to his Imperial Majesty a model of my field-stove, he desired to have an ordinary one forwarded from London, to serve as a model for his army. His Majesty also took a vivid interest in the perusal of my simple hospital dietary and army receipts. The affability of his Majesty towards me in alluding to his high appreciationof my services in the East, more than repays me for my very humble duties.[33]
In accordance with my aforementioned promise, having already gathered so much matter for this narrative work, I find myself compelled to reserve what I have so carefully collected for another work, already mentioned in a note at the foot of preceding page, in which I shall insert only the dishes most renowned in each country, and thus render them practical everywhere. I have, during my six months’ travels since leaving the Crimea, personally visited and become acquainted with the cookery of Russia, Turkey, Germany, Greece, Malta, Italy, and France, also that of its great provincial towns—of the latter till now unknown to me. They all enjoy a high reputation for peculiar dishes so much esteemed by the real gourmet. With Strasbourg, my culinary peregrinations closed. I addressed to the local paper of that antique and interesting city the following letter respecting the production of its deliciousfoies grasand erroneous Inquisitional Romance:—
Article published in the “Courier du Bas Rhin.”It has been said and generally credited in England and in France, that the enormous development of the fat livers is obtained by a system of torture inflicted by the Strasburghers upon the unfortunate goose, the protecting bird of the Capitol. A certain English publication states, “they are confined in dark cellars, nailed to the floor by the feet before a slow fire which is kept constantly burning, and they are then crammed to repletion, so much so that the first cramming keeps the digestive organs in action for weeks. This system of torture, worthy of the mysteries of the Spanish Inquisition, dries up the frame of the poor bird to a skeleton, and thus the liver acquires its enormous development under the combined influence of cramming, want of exercise, and the constant slow heat.”“I am happy,” says Monsieur Soyer, “to show there is no truth in this statement, and, from personal observation while at Strasbourg, to be able to contradict those absurd fables so long credited inEngland. I can certify that the geese intended for fattening are allowed to roam about the farms and grass-fields in Alsace till they are seven or eight months old, kept in flocks, and well watched and tended.“Having reached their requisite degree of maturity, they are brought to the city market by the country farmers and sold to persons who make the fattening a special business. They are now crammed three times a day with dry and ripe Indian meal, kept in clean wooden cages, and allowed to drink as much water as they like; others, in greater numbers, roam about in large barns, very light and well ventilated: these are also kept extremely clean. Each bird consumes about a bushel of Indian meal before attaining the requisite fatness, and but few die from disease during the process. I have been assured that the quality of the water in Strasbourg contributes greatly to the development of the livers, but cannot vouch for the authenticity of this statement.”Here is the whole of the mystery of the cruel process so long commented upon in England; and, far from being Torquemadas, the parties who follow this business, on the contrary, treat the victims destined for the celebratedpâtés de foieswith great care and humanity. Every Englishman may henceforth eat hispâtéwith a clear conscience, as does the Frenchgourmet, without contravening the law of Grammont.The livers are usually sold at five, six, ten, and even twelve and fifteen francs each, according to the size and quality.There is no special market for them, but the fatteners carry them round for sale to the pastry-cooks and private establishments.Independently of the liver, the dealer reaps a further profit upon the goose (which is in general very plump and fat), besides the down and the goose-grease.
Article published in the “Courier du Bas Rhin.”
It has been said and generally credited in England and in France, that the enormous development of the fat livers is obtained by a system of torture inflicted by the Strasburghers upon the unfortunate goose, the protecting bird of the Capitol. A certain English publication states, “they are confined in dark cellars, nailed to the floor by the feet before a slow fire which is kept constantly burning, and they are then crammed to repletion, so much so that the first cramming keeps the digestive organs in action for weeks. This system of torture, worthy of the mysteries of the Spanish Inquisition, dries up the frame of the poor bird to a skeleton, and thus the liver acquires its enormous development under the combined influence of cramming, want of exercise, and the constant slow heat.”
“I am happy,” says Monsieur Soyer, “to show there is no truth in this statement, and, from personal observation while at Strasbourg, to be able to contradict those absurd fables so long credited inEngland. I can certify that the geese intended for fattening are allowed to roam about the farms and grass-fields in Alsace till they are seven or eight months old, kept in flocks, and well watched and tended.
“Having reached their requisite degree of maturity, they are brought to the city market by the country farmers and sold to persons who make the fattening a special business. They are now crammed three times a day with dry and ripe Indian meal, kept in clean wooden cages, and allowed to drink as much water as they like; others, in greater numbers, roam about in large barns, very light and well ventilated: these are also kept extremely clean. Each bird consumes about a bushel of Indian meal before attaining the requisite fatness, and but few die from disease during the process. I have been assured that the quality of the water in Strasbourg contributes greatly to the development of the livers, but cannot vouch for the authenticity of this statement.”
Here is the whole of the mystery of the cruel process so long commented upon in England; and, far from being Torquemadas, the parties who follow this business, on the contrary, treat the victims destined for the celebratedpâtés de foieswith great care and humanity. Every Englishman may henceforth eat hispâtéwith a clear conscience, as does the Frenchgourmet, without contravening the law of Grammont.
The livers are usually sold at five, six, ten, and even twelve and fifteen francs each, according to the size and quality.
There is no special market for them, but the fatteners carry them round for sale to the pastry-cooks and private establishments.
Independently of the liver, the dealer reaps a further profit upon the goose (which is in general very plump and fat), besides the down and the goose-grease.
I purpose adding to thisrecherchéand universal bill of fare, a few receipts from Spain, Portugal, America, India, and China; closing this small but well-filled volume with the roast-beef and plum-pudding of Old England, which they are at present totally incapable of cooking properly in Paris, but which I intend compelling them to do, inasmuch as they now have in that city of gourmets and cradle of gastronomy nearly as good meat as any to be found in the English metropolis.
The work will be published at a moderate price, and printed in different languages, and will, I hope, prove acceptable to the public, as well as beneficial, in a culinary point of view, to all nations.
A few weeks after my visit to his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon III., and having delivered my report upon the kitchens for the working classes, to my joy the time had arrived to sail for England’s happy land, which two years previous I had so unexpectedly left. Double pleasure was attached to my return, for I felt assured that within its sea-girt shore thousands of true British hearts were wishing me well, to use his Majesty the Sultan’s term. And indeed I was not disappointed, for in less than forty-eight hours after my arrival in its mighty metropolis, I had been so fervently shaken by the hand, that I could not but help exclaiming for a short time, “Save me from my friends.” Added to this, my kind reception by the home authorities was to me more than gratifying: then the last, though not least, reminiscence of my late campaign which occurred in Hyde Park, on the occasion of the distribution of the Order of Valour by her Most Gracious Majesty, when, being recognised amongst the thousands assembled in the stand by the valiant general, Sir Colin Campbell, the elevation of my hat was not sufficient for the impetuosity of the major-domo of this grand and imposing ceremony—the last link of the late memorable Crimean Campaign. On my going towards Sir Colin I was greeted with a hearty shake of the hand, and the usual kind and affable inquiries so peculiar to the amiable General having passed between us, I could not help expressing to the gallant warrior how highly gratified I had been by the admirable and perfect manœuvring of the troops. Shortly after he bade me adieu, and, accompanied by his staff, left the ground. At this time I much regretted not having had the opportunity of paying my duty to one of the generals in command, as it would have closed, in a mostaproposmanner, the last page of this work, my “Culinary Campaign;” but, thanks to my star, an hour after the termination of the proceedings, while walking along Piccadilly towards my residence, a friend’s voice behind me exclaimed—“Halloo, Monsieur Soyer!” On turning round, who, to my astonishment, should I perceive, mounted on his Balaklava charger, and followedby his aide-de-camp, but the very gallant general whose absence I had just been regretting. It was no other than Lord William Paulet, who was turning the corner to enter his chambers in the Albany. “I have,” exclaimed his lordship, “been looking out everywhere for you, having learned from Sir Colin Campbell that you were upon the ground.”
“So have I been looking for you, my lord, and with great anxiety, but unfortunately I was deprived of the pleasure of meeting you.”
“By-the-bye, Soyer, I saw your portrait in the historical Scutari painting, by Barrett, this morning at Buckingham Palace, and I consider it an excellent likeness.”
“I am glad you think so, my lord, and for my part I consider the whole of the picture remarkably well executed. At the same time allow me to inform your lordship, that as you are so near home, I should have been very sorry to have had the pleasure of meeting you in the Park.”
“Why so, Soyer?” remarked his lordship, leaning over his charger, and still retaining my hand in his.
“Well, my lord, the reason is simple. Having so prosperously commenced my culinary campaign under your command and very kind assistance, while your lordship was Brigadier-general of Scutari, nothing could be more in accordance with my wishes than that the last page of a work which I am now about completing, in anticipation of perpetuating the style of cookery introduced by me both at Scutari and in the camp before Sebastopol, should terminate at the very threshold of your door, and while you were returning from the last national ceremony relating to the great Crimean campaign.”
“Well, upon my word, it is very remarkable; and I am happy to think, Soyer, that you have written a work upon so important and interesting a subject.”
We then parted. A few minutes had thrown a curtain over this grand military display, which will ever be remembered in history, as well as graven on the memory of man.
The Author, after his laborious campaign, in bidding adieu to his readers, does not intend to remainSoyer tranquille, as he is most anxious, after having chronicled his culinary reminiscences of the late war, to put his views into action by simple practice; and as he had no other object in writing this book, he sincerely hopes it may be the means of causing a lasting amelioration in the cooking for both army and navy, and all public institutions. Such a result to his labours, after his long culinary experience, would make the author happy indeed, and he would for the future be found as traced below.
Soyer très heureux.Soyer très heureux.
INTRODUCTION.—THIS PART OF THE WORK, THOUGH THE LAST, I CONSIDER NOT THE LEAST, BEING THE MOST USEFUL. IT NEEDS NO PREFACE. ITS CONTENTS ARE AS FOLLOWS: FIRST, THE NEW HOSPITAL DIETS; SECONDLY, THE COOKING FOR THE ARMY AND NAVY; THIRDLY, THE LONDON SUPPER; FOURTHLY, THE CHEAP RECEIPTS, WHEREBY THE WEALTHY CAN, AT A TRIFLING EXPENSE, AID IN WINTER THE WORKING CLASSES AND THE NEEDY.
INTRODUCTION.—THIS PART OF THE WORK, THOUGH THE LAST, I CONSIDER NOT THE LEAST, BEING THE MOST USEFUL. IT NEEDS NO PREFACE. ITS CONTENTS ARE AS FOLLOWS: FIRST, THE NEW HOSPITAL DIETS; SECONDLY, THE COOKING FOR THE ARMY AND NAVY; THIRDLY, THE LONDON SUPPER; FOURTHLY, THE CHEAP RECEIPTS, WHEREBY THE WEALTHY CAN, AT A TRIFLING EXPENSE, AID IN WINTER THE WORKING CLASSES AND THE NEEDY.
AS INTRODUCED BY HIM WITH THE CONCURRENCE OF THE LEADING MEDICAL GENTLEMEN OF THE BRITISH MILITARY HOSPITALS IN THE EAST.REMARK.—THE IMPORTANCE ATTACHING TO WEIGHTS AND MEASURES IN THE ACCOMPANYING RECEIPTS IS FULLY RECOGNISED; IT IS THEREFORE NECESSARY THAT REGIMENTAL AS WELL AS CIVIL HOSPITALS SHOULD BE SUPPLIED WITH SCALES, AND WITH MEASURES FOR LIQUIDS.Correct Bill of Fare for Hospital Diet for the Army in the East, as first introduced by Monsieur Soyer in the Great Barrack Hospital, Scutari, and subsequently in others, while on his Government Mission during the late War, for the Sick, Wounded, and Convalescent, and applicable to all Hospitals throughout the United Kingdom of Great Britain.
AS INTRODUCED BY HIM WITH THE CONCURRENCE OF THE LEADING MEDICAL GENTLEMEN OF THE BRITISH MILITARY HOSPITALS IN THE EAST.
REMARK.—THE IMPORTANCE ATTACHING TO WEIGHTS AND MEASURES IN THE ACCOMPANYING RECEIPTS IS FULLY RECOGNISED; IT IS THEREFORE NECESSARY THAT REGIMENTAL AS WELL AS CIVIL HOSPITALS SHOULD BE SUPPLIED WITH SCALES, AND WITH MEASURES FOR LIQUIDS.
Correct Bill of Fare for Hospital Diet for the Army in the East, as first introduced by Monsieur Soyer in the Great Barrack Hospital, Scutari, and subsequently in others, while on his Government Mission during the late War, for the Sick, Wounded, and Convalescent, and applicable to all Hospitals throughout the United Kingdom of Great Britain.
No. 1.—Semi-Stewed Mutton and Barley. Soup for 100 Men.[34]
Put in a convenient-sized caldron 130 pints of cold water, 70 lbs. of meat, or about that quantity, 12 lbs. of plain mixed vegetables(the best that can be obtained), 9lbs. 6oz. of barley, 1lb. 7oz. of salt, 1lb. 4oz. of flour, 1lb. 4oz. of sugar, 1oz. of pepper. Put all the ingredients into the pan at once, except the flour; set it on the fire, and when beginning to boil, diminish the heat, and simmer gently for two hours and a half; take the joints of meat out, and keep them warm in the orderly’s pan; add to the soup your flour, which you have mixed with enough water to form a light batter; stir well together with a large spoon; boil another half-hour, skim off the fat, and serve the soup and meat separate. The meat may be put back into the soup for a few minutes to warm again prior to serving. The soup should be stirred now and then while making, to prevent burning or sticking to the bottom of the caldron.
The joints are cooked whole, and afterwards cut up in different messes; being cooked this way, in a rather thick stock, the meat becomes more nutritious.
Note.—The word “about” is applied to the half and full diet, which varies the weight of the meat; but ½lb. of mutton will always make a pint of good soup: 3lbs. of mixed preserved vegetables must be used when fresh are not to be obtained, and put in one hour and a half prior to serving, instead of at first; they will then show better in the soup, and still be well done.
All the following receipts may be increased to large quantities, but by all means closely follow the weight and measure.
No. 2.—Beef Soup.
Proceed the same as for mutton, only leave the meat in till serving, as it will take longer than mutton. The pieces are not to be above 4 or 5lbs. weight; and for a change, half rice may be introduced; the addition of 2lbs. more will make it thicker and more nutritive; ¼lb. of curry powder will make an excellent change also. To vary the same, half a pint of burnt sugar water may be added—it will give the soup a very rich brown colour. (Vide Receipt No. 32.)
No. 3.—Beef Tea. Receipt for six Pints.
Cut 3lbs. of beef into pieces the size of walnuts, and chop up the bones, if any; put it into a convenient-sized kettle, with ½lb. of mixed vegetables, such as onions, leeks, celery, turnips, carrots (or one or two of these, if all are not to be obtained), 1oz. of salt, a little pepper, 1 teaspoonful of sugar, 2oz. of butter, half a pint of water. Set it on a sharp fire for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, stirring now and then with a spoon, till it forms a rather thick gravy at bottom, but not brown: then add 7 pints of hot or cold water, but hot is preferable; when boiling, let it simmer gently for an hour; skim off all the fat, strain it through a sieve, and serve.
No. 3A.—Essence of Beef Tea.
For camp hospitals.—“Quarter pound tin case of essence.”
If in winter set it near the fire to melt; pour the contents in a stew-pan and twelve times the case full of water over it, hot or cold; add to it two or three slices of onion, a sprig or two of parsley, a leaf or two of celery, if handy, two teaspoonfuls of salt, one of sugar; pass through a colander and serve. If required stronger, eight cases of water will suffice, decreasing the seasoning in proportion. In case you have no vegetables, sugar, or pepper, salt alone will do, but the broth will not be so succulent.
No. 4.—Thick Beef Tea.
Dissolve a good teaspoonful of arrowroot in a gill of water, and pour it into the beef tea twenty minutes before passing through the sieve—it is then ready.
No. 5.—Strengthening Beef Tea, with Calves-foot Jelly or Isinglass.
Add ¼oz. calves-foot gelatine to the above quantity of beef tea previous to serving, when cooking.
No. 6.—Mutton and Veal Tea.
Mutton and veal will make good tea by proceeding precisely the same as above. The addition of a little aromatic herbs is always desirable. If no fresh vegetables are at hand, use 2oz. of mixed preserved vegetables to any of the above receipts.
No. 7.—Chicken Broth.
Put in a stewpan a fowl, 3 pints of water, 2 teaspoonfuls of rice, 1 teaspoonful of salt, a middle-sized onion, or 2oz. of mixed vegetables; boil the whole gently for three quarters of an hour: if an old fowl, simmer from one hour and a half to two hours, adding 1 pint more water; skim off the fat, and serve. A small fowl will do.
Note.—A light mutton broth may be made precisely the same, by using a pound and a half of scrag of mutton instead of fowl.
For thick mutton broth proceed as for thick beef tea, omitting the rice; a tablespoonful of burnt sugar water will give a rich colour to the broth.
No. 8.—Plain boiled Rice.
Put 2 quarts of water in a stewpan, with a teaspoonful of salt; when boiling, add to it ½lb. of rice, well washed; boil for ten minutes, or till each grain becomes rather soft; drain it into a colander, slightly grease the pot with butter, and put the rice back into it; let it swell slowly for about twenty minutes near the fire, or in a slow oven; each grain will then swell up, and be well separated; it is then ready for use.
No. 9.—Sweet Rice.
Add to the plain boiled rice 1 oz. of butter, 2 tablespoonfuls of sugar, a little cinnamon, a quarter of a pint of milk; stir it with a fork, and serve; a little currant jelly or jam maybe added to the rice.
No. 10.—Rice with Gravy.
Add to the rice 4 tablespoonfuls of the essence of beef, a little butter, if fresh, half a teaspoonful of salt; stir together with a fork, and serve.
A teaspoonful of Soyer’s Sultana Sauce, or relish, will make it very wholesome and palatable, as well as invigorating to a fatigued stomach.[35]
No. 11.—Plain Oatmeal.
Put in a pan ¼lb. of oatmeal, 1½oz. of sugar, half a teaspoonful of salt, and 3 pints of water; boil slowly for twenty minutes, “stirring continually,” and serve. A quarter of a pint of boiled milk, an ounce of butter, and a little pounded cinnamon or spice added previous to serving is a good variation.
This receipt has been found most useful at the commencement of dysentery by the medical authorities.
No. 12.—Calves-foot Jelly.
Put in a proper sized stewpan 2¼oz. of calves-foot gelatine, 4oz. of white sugar, 4 whites of eggs and shells, the peel of a lemon, the juice of three middle-sized lemons, half a pint of Marsala wine; beat all well together with the egg-beater for a few minutes, then add 4½ pints of cold water; set it on a slow fire, and keep whipping it till boiling. Set it on the corner of the stove, partly covered with the lid, upon which you place a few pieces of burning charcoal; let it simmer gently for ten minutes, and strain it through a jelly-bag. It is then ready to put in the ice or some cool place. Sherry will do if Marsala is not at hand.
For orange jelly use only 1 lemon and 2 oranges. Any delicate flavour may be introduced.
Note.—I find that the preparation now manufactured by Messrs. Crosse and Blackwell, of Soho-square, London, is preferable to any other, being also cheaper than boiling calves’ feet on purpose, which takes a very long time, and is more difficult to make. This preparation will keep as long as isinglass, to prove which I am induced at the same time to give the following receipt, when the other cannot be procured. Ox-feet or cow-heel may be used instead of calves-feet,only requiring an hour more simmering. In summer ice must be used to set the jelly.
Jelly Stock,
Made from calf’s feet, requires to be made the day previous to being used, requiring to be very hard to extract the fat. Take two calf’s feet, cut them up, and boil in three quarts of water; as soon as it boils remove it to the corner of the fire, and simmer for five hours, keeping it skimmed, pass through a hair sieve into a basin, and let it remain until quite hard, then remove the oil and fat, and wipe the top dry. Place in a stew-pan half a pint of water, one of sherry, half a pound of lump sugar, the juice of four lemons, the rinds of two, and the whites and shells of five eggs; whisk until the sugar is melted, then add the jelly, place it on the fire, and whisk until boiling, pass it through a jelly-bag, pouring that back again which comes through first until quite clear; it is then ready for use, by putting it in moulds or glasses. Vary the flavour according to fancy.
No. 13.—Sago Jelly.
Put into a pan, 3oz. of sago, 1½oz. of sugar, half a lemon-peel cut very thin, ¼ teaspoonful of ground cinnamon, or a small stick of the same; put to it 3 pints of water and a little salt; boil ten minutes, or rather longer, stirring continually, until rather thick, then add a little port, sherry, or Marsala wine; mix well, and serve hot or cold.
No. 14.—Arrowroot Milk.
Put into a pan 4oz. of arrowroot, 3oz. of sugar, the peel of half a lemon, ¼ teaspoonful of salt, 2½ pints of milk; set it on the fire, stir round gently, boil for ten minutes, and serve. If no lemons at hand, a little essence of any kind will do.
When short of milk, use half water; half an ounce of fresh butter is an improvement before serving. If required thicker, put a little milk.
No. 15.—Thick Arrowroot Panada.
Put in a pan 5oz. of arrowroot, 2½oz. of white sugar, the peel of half a lemon, a quarter of a teaspoonful of salt, 4 pints of water; mix all well, set on the fire, boil for ten minutes; it is then ready. The juice of a lemon is an improvement; a gill of wine may also be introduced, and ½oz. of calf’s-foot gelatine previously dissolved in water will be strengthening. Milk, however, is preferable, if at hand.
No. 16.—Arrowroot Water.
Put into a pan 3oz. of arrowroot, 2oz. of white sugar, the peel of a lemon, ¼ teaspoonful of salt, 4 pints of water; mix well, set on the fire, boil for ten minutes. It is then ready to serve either hot or cold.
No. 17.—Rice Water.
Put 7 pints of water to boil, add to it 2 ounces of rice washed, 2oz. of sugar, the peel of two-thirds of a lemon; boil gently for three-quarters of an hour; it will reduce to 5 pints; strain through a colander; it is then ready.
The rice may be left in the beverage or made into a pudding, or by the addition of a little sugar or jam, will be found very good for either children or invalids.
No. 18.—Barley Water.
Put in a saucepan 7 pints of water, 2oz. of barley, which stir now and then while boiling; add 2oz. of white sugar, the rind of half a lemon, thinly peeled; let it boil gently for about two hours, without covering it; pass it through a sieve or colander; it is then ready. The barley and lemon may be left in it.
No. 19.—Soyer’s Plain Lemonade.
Thinly peel the third part of a lemon, which put into a basin with 2 tablespoonfuls of sugar; roll the lemon with your hand upon the table to soften it; cut it into two, lengthwise, squeeze the juice over the peel, &c., stir round for a minute with a spoon to form a sort of syrup; pour over a pint of water, mix well, and remove the pips; it is then ready for use. If a very large lemon, and full of juice, and very fresh, you may make a pint and a half to a quart, adding sugar and peel in proportion to the increase of water. The juice only of the lemon and sugar will make lemonade, but will then be deprived of the aroma which the rind contains, the said rind being generally thrown away.
No. 20.—Semi-Citric Lemonade. Receipt for Fifty Pints.
Put 1oz. of citric acid to dissolve in a pint of water; peel 20 lemons thinly, and put the peel in a large vessel, with 3lbs. 2oz. of white sugar well broken; roll each lemon on the table to soften it, which will facilitate the extraction of the juice; cut them into two, and press out the juice into a colander or sieve, over the peel and sugar, then pour half a pint of water through the colander, so as to leave no juice remaining; triturate the sugar, juice and peel together for a minute or two with a spoon, so as to form a sort of syrup, and extract the aroma from the peel and the dissolved citric acid; mix all well together, pour on 50 pints of cold water, stir well together; it is then ready. A little ice in summer is a great addition.
Observation.—The two following Lemonades, which have been submitted to eminent Doctors at Scutari, have been approved of, and can be made for either the Hospitals or the Camp, and will be found to answer equally for domestic consumption, if lemons are not to be obtained.
No. 21.—Soyer’s Cheap Crimean Lemonade.
Put into a basin 2 tablespoonfuls of white or brown sugar, ½ a tablespoonful of lime juice, mix well together for one minute, add 1 pint of water, and the beverage is ready. A drop of rum will make a good variation, as lime juice and rum are daily issued to the soldiers.
No. 22.—Tartaric Lemonade.
Dissolve 1oz. of crystallized tartaric acid in a pint of cold water, which put in a large vessel; when dissolved, add 1lb. 9oz. of white or brown sugar—the former is preferable; mix well to form a thick syrup; add to it 24 pints of cold water, slowly mixing well; it is then ready.
It may be strained through either a colander or a jelly-bag; if required very light, add 5 pints more water, and sugar in proportion; if citric acid be used, put only 20 pints of water to each ounce.
No. 23.—Cheap Plain Rice Pudding, for Campaigning,
In which no eggs or milk are required: important in the Crimea or the field.
Put on the fire, in a moderate-sized saucepan, 12 pints of water; when boiling, add to it 1lb. of rice or 16 tablespoonsful, 4oz. of brown sugar or 4 tablespoonsful, 1 large teaspoonful of salt, and the rind of a lemon thinly pealed; boil gently for half an hour, then strain all the water from the rice, keeping it as dry as possible.
The rice-water is then ready for drinking, either warm or cold. The juice of a lemon may be introduced, which will make it more palatable and refreshing.
THE PUDDING.
Add to the rice 3oz. of sugar, 4 tablespoonsful of flour, half a teaspoonful of pounded cinnamon; stir it on the fire carefully for five or ten minutes; put it in a tin or a pie-dish, and bake. By boiling the rice a quarter of an hour longer, it will be very good to eat without baking. Cinnamon may be omitted.
No. 23A.—Batter Pudding.
Break two fresh eggs in a basin, beat them well, add one tablespoonful and a half of flour, which beat up with your eggs with a fork until no lumps remain; add a gill of milk, a teaspoonful of salt, butter a teacup or a basin, pour in your mixture, put some water in a stew-pan, enough to immerge half way up the cup or basin in water; when boiling put in your cup or basin and boil twenty minutes, or till your pudding is well set; pass a knife to loosen it, turn out on a plate, pour pounded sugar and a pat of fresh butter over, and serve. A little lemon, cinnamon, or a drop of anyessence may be introduced. A little light melted butter, sherry, and sugar, may be poured over. If required more delicate, add a little less flour. It may be served plain.
No. 24.—Bread and Butter Pudding.
Butter a tart-dish well, and sprinkle some currants all round it, then lay in a few slices of bread and butter; boil one pint of milk, pour it on two eggs well whipped, and then on the bread and butter; bake it in a hot oven for half an hour. Currants may be omitted.
No. 25.—Bread Pudding.
Boil one pint of milk, with a piece of cinnamon and lemon-peel; pour it on two ounces of bread-crumbs; then add two eggs, half an ounce of currants, and a little sugar: steam it in a buttered mould for one hour.
No. 26.—Custard Pudding.
Boil one pint of milk, with a small piece of lemon-peel and half a bay-leaf, for three minutes; then pour these on to three eggs, mix it with one ounce of sugar well together, and pour it into a buttered mould: steam it twenty-five minutes in a stew-pan with some water (see No. 115), turn out on a plate and serve.
No. 27.—Rich Rice Pudding.
Put in ½lb. of rice in a stew-pan, washed, 3 pints of milk, 1 pint of water, 3oz. of sugar, 1 lemon peel, 1oz. of fresh butter; boil gently half an hour, or until the rice is tender; add 4 eggs, well beaten, mix well, and bake quickly for half an hour, and serve: it may be steamed if preferred.
No. 28—Stewed Macaroni.
Put in a stewpan 2 quarts of water, half a tablespoonful of salt, 2oz. of butter; set on the fire; when boiling, add 1lb. of macaroni, broken up rather small; when boiled very soft, throw off the water; mix well into the macaroni a tablespoonful of flour, add enough milk to make it of the consistency of thin melted butter; boil gently twenty minutes; add in a tablespoonful of either brown or white sugar, or honey, and serve.
A little cinnamon, nutmeg, lemon-peel, or orange-flower water may be introduced to impart a flavour; stir quick. A gill of milk or cream may now be thrown in three minutes before serving. Nothing can be more light and nutritious than macaroni done this way. If no milk, use water.
No. 29.—Macaroni Pudding.
Put 2 pints of water to boil, add to it 2oz. of macaroni, broken in small pieces; boil till tender, drain off the water and add half a tablespoonful of flour, 2oz. of white sugar, a quarter of a pint of milk, and boil together for ten minutes; beat an egg up, pour it to theother ingredients, a nut of butter; mix well and bake, or steam. It can be served plain, and may be flavoured with either cinnamon, lemon, or other essences, as orange flower-water, vanilla, &c.
No. 30.—Sago Pudding.
Put in a pan 4oz. of sago, 2oz. of sugar, half a lemon peel or a little cinnamon, a small pat of fresh butter, if handy, half a pint of milk; boil for a few minutes, or until rather thick, stirring all the while; beat up 2 eggs and mix quickly with the same; it is then ready for either baking or steaming, or may be served plain.
No. 31.—Tapioca Pudding.
Put in a pan 2oz. of tapioca, 1½ pint of milk, 1oz. of white or brown sugar, a little salt, set on the fire, boil gently for fifteen minutes, or until the tapioca is tender, stirring now and then to prevent its sticking to the bottom, or burning; then add two eggs well beaten; steam or bake, and serve. It will take about twenty minutes steaming, or a quarter of an hour baking slightly. Flavour with either lemon, cinnamon, or any other essence.
No. 32.—Boiled Rice semi-curried, for the premonitory symptoms of Diarrhœa.
Put 1 quart of water in a pot or saucepan; when boiling, wash ½lb. of rice and throw it into the water; boil fast for ten minutes; drain your rice in a colander, put it back in the saucepan, which you have slightly greased with butter; let it swell slowly near the fire, or in a slow oven till tender; each grain will then be light and well separated.
Add to the above a small tablespoonful of aromatic sauce, called “Soyer’s Relish or Sultana Sauce,” with a quarter of a teaspoonful of curry powder; mix together with a fork lightly, and serve. This quantity will be sufficient for two or three people, according to the prescriptions of the attending physician.
No. 33.—Figs and Apple Beverage.
Have 2 quarts of water boiling, into which throw 6 dry figs previously opened, and 2 apples, cut into six or eight slices each; let the whole boil together twenty minutes, then pour them into a basin to cool; pass through a sieve; drain the figs, which will be good to eat with a little sugar or jam.
No. 34.—Stewed French Plums.
Put 12 large or 18 small-size French plums, soak them for half an hour, put in a stew-pan with a spoonful of brown sugar, a gill of water, a little cinnamon, and some thin rind of lemon; let them stew gently twenty minutes, then put them in a basin till cold with a little of the juice. A small glass of either port, sherry, or claret is a very good addition. The syrup is excellent.
No. 35.—French Herb Broth.
This is a very favourite beverage in France, as well with people in health as with invalids, especially in spring, when the herbs are young and green.
Put a quart of water to boil, having previously prepared about 40 leaves of sorrel, a cabbage lettuce, and 10 sprigs of chervil, the whole well washed; when the water is boiling, throw in the herbs, with the addition of a teaspoonful of salt, and ½oz. of fresh butter; cover the saucepan close, and let simmer a few minutes, then strain it through, a sieve or colander.
This is to be drunk cold, especially in the spring of the year, after the change from winter. I generally drink about a quart per day for a week at that time; but if for sick people it must be made less strong of herbs, and taken a little warm.
To prove that it is wholesome, we have only to refer to the instinct which teaches dogs to eat grass at that season of the year. I do not pretend to say that it would suit persons in every malady, because the doctors are to decide upon the food and beverage of their patients, and study its changes as well as change their medicines; but I repeat that this is most useful and refreshing for the blood.
No. 36.—Browning for Soups, etc.
Put ½lb. of moist sugar into an iron pan and melt it over a moderate fire till quite black, stirring it continually, which will take about twenty-five minutes: it must colour by degrees, as too sudden a heat will make it bitter; then add 2 quarts of water, and in ten minutes the sugar will be dissolved. You may then bottle it for use. It will keep good for a month, and will always be found very useful.
No. 37.—Toast-and-Water.
Cut a piece of crusty bread, about a ¼lb. in weight, place it upon a toasting-fork, and hold it about six inches from the fire; turn it often, and keep moving it gently until of a light-yellow colour, then place it nearer the fire, and when of a good brown chocolate colour, put it in a jug and pour over 3 pints of boiling water; cover the jug until cold, then strain it into a clean jug, and it is ready for use. Never leave the toast in it, for in summer it would cause fermentation in a short time. I would almost venture to say that such toast-and-water as I have described, though so very simple, is the only way toast-water should be made, and that it would keep good a considerable time in bottles.
Baked Apple Toast-and-Water.—A piece of apple, slowly toasted till it gets quite black, and added to the above, makes a very nice and refreshing drink for invalids.
Apple Rice Water.—Half a pound of rice, boiled in the above until in pulp, passed through a colander, and drunk when cold.All kinds of fruit may be done the same way.Figs and French plums are excellent; also raisins.A little ginger, if approved of, may be used.
Apple Barley Water.—A quarter of a pound of pearl barley instead of toast added to the above, and boil for one hour, is also a very nice drink.
Citronade.—Put a gallon of water on to boil, cut up one pound of apples, each one into quarters, two lemons in thin slices, put them in the water, and boil them until they can be pulped, pass the liquor through a colander, boil it up again with half a pound of brown sugar, skim, and bottle for use, taking care not to cork the bottle, and keep it in a cool place.
For Spring Drink.—Rhubarb, in the same quantities, and done in the same way as apples, adding more sugar, is very cooling.
Also green gooseberries.
For Summer Drink.—One pound of red currants, bruised with some raspberry, half a pound of sugar added to a gallon of cold water, well stirred, and allowed to settle. The juice of a lemon.
Mulberry.—The same, adding a little lemon-peel.
A little cream of tartar or citric acid added to these renders them more cooling in summer and spring.
Plain Lemonade.—Cut in very thin slices three lemons, put them in a basin, add half a pound of sugar, either white or brown; bruise all together, add a gallon of water, and stir well. It is then ready.
French Plum Water.—Boil 3 pints of water; add in 6 or 8 dried plums previously split, 2 or 3 slices of lemon, a spoonful of honey or sugar; boil half an hour and serve.
ForFig, Date, and Raisin Water, proceed as above, adding the juice of half a lemon to any of the above. If for fig water, use 6 figs.
Any quantity of the above fruits may be used with advantage in rice, barley, or arrowroot water.
Effervescent Beverages.
Raspberry Water.—Put 2 tablespoonfuls of vinegar into a large glass, pour in half a pint of water; mix well.
Pine-apple Syrup.—Three tablespoonfuls to a pint.
Currant Syrup.—Proceed the same.
Syrup of Orgeat.—The same.
Orange-Flower Water.—The same, adding an ounce of lump sugar, is a most soothing drink, and is to be procured at Verrey’s, in Regent Street, or Kuntz’s, opposite Verrey’s. Put two tablespoonfuls to a glass of water. It is also extremely good with either Soda, Seltzer, or Vichy Water, the last of which is to be obtained at the depôt, Margaret-street, Cavendish-square.