Invitations—Colonel Seymour’s kindness—He is wounded—Visit to the disabled officer—Desertions—Tents pitched at last—A gay scene—Bill of fare—My reception commences—The new stoves—Process of tasting—The fair sex—Arrival of the Allied generals and their staff—A luncheonal fresco—General Barnard’sbon-mot—Inspection of the stoves—Influx of visitors—Letters from the Allied commanders—Interview with Sir Edmund Lyons—Meeting of generals—Plans discussed—Various messes—Colonel Handcock and his lady—A sad change—An experiment—Colonel Daniell’s letter—A regimental kitchen.
Invitations—Colonel Seymour’s kindness—He is wounded—Visit to the disabled officer—Desertions—Tents pitched at last—A gay scene—Bill of fare—My reception commences—The new stoves—Process of tasting—The fair sex—Arrival of the Allied generals and their staff—A luncheonal fresco—General Barnard’sbon-mot—Inspection of the stoves—Influx of visitors—Letters from the Allied commanders—Interview with Sir Edmund Lyons—Meeting of generals—Plans discussed—Various messes—Colonel Handcock and his lady—A sad change—An experiment—Colonel Daniell’s letter—A regimental kitchen.
MYgallant master of the ceremonies, Colonel Seymour, had kindly taken the most important part of my duty off my hands, by inviting all the heads of the military and medical authorities, with a great number of whom, in consequence of my short stay in the Crimea, I was not yet, or, at least, only partially acquainted. I had now removed to theEdward, and also left her, but still kept, if not apied à terre(as we say in French), at least apied sur mer, for myself and people, in case I should require to go to Balaklava and stay there for the night.
This was on the 26th of August, 1855—the 27th was to be the opening day. All my people had left for the camp, with arms and baggage. I was certain of success and without the slightest anxiety. On arriving at my field of operations, I learnt, to my deep sorrow, that my right hand, Colonel Seymour, had, during the night, been dangerously wounded in the trenches. I immediately went to his quarters to ascertain the nature of his wound. His servant told me, that for the present no one could tell; he had been struck by the splinter of a shell at the back of the neck, and lost a great deal of blood. The doctor then came out and informed me thatthe wound was not so bad as had been at first anticipated. His servant announced me, and although very weak, the colonel begged I would enter his tent. He was lying upon the ground upon a blanket, covered with another, and his military cloak over that. His head was bandaged with a turban of white linen stained with blood. His first words were, “Monsieur Soyer, you see what has happened at last. I much regret it, as I shall not be able to perform my promise to you respecting your opening.”
“Never mind, colonel; don’t let us talk about that subject now, but about yourself.”
“Well,” he replied, “the doctor has just been, and says that the wound is not mortal, nor even so dangerous as he at first anticipated.”
“Colonel, you want repose, so I will retire.”
“There is no occasion for that, Monsieur Soyer; I feel strong again. When I was struck, I did not feel the wound, and fell immediately, remaining for some time insensible, the wound, as the doctor says, having acted upon the brain.”
“Don’t exert yourself, my dear colonel, by talking. Thank God it is no worse. I will go and send you some lemonade. I have asked the doctor what was best for you, and am happy to say I have some ice.”
“Many thanks for your kind attention, Monsieur Soyer.”
I then retired. Upon reaching my kitchen, I found that no one had yet arrived. The four carpenters had left me in the lurch, having run away in the night, and abandoned their work, after stealing all they could from the tents. Mr. Doyne, the chief of the Army Works Corps, kindly supplied me with workmen, and offered to lend me, for a few days, as many tents as I required. As the weather was then intensely hot, I accepted his offer, and requested the loan of a large marquee, under which a couple of hundred people could stand. Captain Gordon lent me two smaller ones, and by the evening they were pitched, and my provisions had all arrived, and my people were at their posts.I much regretted that many persons of distinction were not invited, in consequence of the unfortunate accident to Colonel Seymour, which happened before he had sent out all the invitations. At all events, the day, though fixed at hazard, turned out extremely well adapted for the reception of a large party.
Early in the morning the camp seemed full of life and gaiety. Mounted officers in full uniform might be seen rushing about in all directions; bands were playing, regiments filing past, and everything bearing the appearance of a great festival. I set cheerfully to work, and, in spite of difficulties which can only be understood by those who have been in the Crimea, I succeeded in getting all in tolerably good order for my great martial banquetal fresco. I made several messes with the soldiers’ rations, and at the same expense, though I had introduced sauce and ingredients which could easily be added to the army stores without increasing the cost, thus making a nice variation in the meals, so important to the health of a large body of men like the army or navy, to the latter of which it is as easily applicable as the former.
The bill of fare consisted of plain boiled salt beef; ditto, with dumplings; plain boiled salt pork; ditto, with peas-pudding; stewed salt pork and beef, with rice; French pot-au-feu; stewed fresh beef, with potatoes; mutton, ditto, with haricot beans; ox-cheek and ox-feet soups; Scotch mutton-broth; common curry, made with fresh and salt beef. (See receipts inAddenda.)
By three o’clock my guests began to arrive. The stoves were in the open air, placed in a semicircle, and, though in a state of ebullition, no one could perceive that any cooking was going on, except on raising the lids. A material point I had in view was that no fire should be seen when used in the trenches. A common table, made of a few boards, and garnished with soldiers’ tin plates, iron forks and spoons, composed my open-air dining-room.
About four o’clock my reception commenced. Lord Rokeby, accompanied by several French officers in fulldress, was the first to honour me with a visit. This gave me an opportunity of fully explaining to him and his friends the plan and construction of the apparatus, as well as its simplicity, cleanliness, and great economy in the consumption of fuel. At the same time, I showed with what ease and certainty the men could regulate the heat and prepare the new receipts—which will be found at the end of this work.
I must also observe, for the information of those who only saw them upon that occasion, that the stoves, having been made for the General Hospital, were too large and heavy for campaigning. That I might lose no time in making my trial before the authorities, I used them upon that occasion, as the process was the same as regards cooking in those as in the smaller ones. The sole difference was in the size, as it was understood that two would cook for a company of one hundred and twenty men, and might be carried by one mule while on march, with sufficient dry wood inside for the next day’s cooking. This was of the utmost importance, in order to ensure the regularity of the soldier’s meal, which ought always to be ready at the minute fixed by the rules of the service.
Thus I had surmounted every difficulty by the invention of this apparatus. In addition to its simplicity and economy, it had the merit of making cooks of soldiers, of which they had previously neither the inclination nor the chance. Smaller stoves on the same principle were also to be provided for picket and outpost duty, as first suggested to me by Lord Raglan. After giving the foregoing information to my illustrious visitors, we passed to the grand process of tasting the various messes. They all gave perfect satisfaction.
By this time several hundred visitors had made their appearance, and gay and animated was the scene. All present were in the same costume as that in which they appeared at the grand chivalric ceremony which had taken place at head-quarters—the installation of the Order of the Bath. I was also highly favoured, I may say, by the presence of a charming group of the fair sex, about ten in number, escorted by their cavaliers. After taking somerefreshment under the monster tent, they came to add their charms to the martial banquet, and taste with gusto the rough food of the brave. I had nothing out of doors to offer their delicate palates but the soldiers’ rations, transmogrified in various ways. My task now became extremely difficult. The crowd was so great, that my batteries were quite taken by storm (de cuisine, of course). Refreshments of all kinds were distributed pretty freely throughout the day. The band in attendance was ordered to play, and struck up “Partant pour la Syrie.” All were immediately on thequi vive, when Captain Colville galloped up to me, and said—
“General Simpson has sent me to inform you that General Pelissier and himself will be here in a few minutes.”
A gorgeous cavalcade was soon seen in the distance. It consisted of the Allied Generals and Staff, and a numerous suite. General Pelissier alighted from his carriage, and joined General Simpson. I went and met the distinguished visitors, who had come from head-quarters after the ceremony of the distribution of the Order of the Bath by Lord Stratford de Redcliffe.
Upon the arrival of the generals, the band continued playing “Partant pour la Syrie.” The cannon of Sebastopol appeared to redouble its roar—so much so, that General Pelissier, with a smile, called General Simpson’s attention to the fact: added to which, the hundreds of uniforms, cocked hats and feathers—French, English, and Sardinian—gave full effect to the lively scene.
In course of conversation, General Simpson said, “Monsieur Soyer,—Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, in reply to your letter, sends his compliments, and regrets he shall not be able to attend your opening, as he must be on board theCaradoc, now lying in Kamiesch Bay, by five o’clock, on his way to Constantinople.”
I thanked General Simpson for his kindness in troubling himself about the message, and the review of my culinary camp, which upon this occasion was rather extensive, commenced. It comprised four bell-tents, one marquee, and a large square tent, capableof holding more than two hundred persons. A luncheonal frescowas served in the camp, and four of my cooks attended upon the guests. The tops of the tents were surmounted with flags and garlands of evergreens composed of vine-leaves; the same were also attached to the posts which supported the rope forming the limits of the enclosure, giving to the whole a martial and lively appearance. The weather was so fine that every one preferred remaining in the open air.
Generals Pelissier and Simpson proceeded to taste the various articles of food. The pot-au-feu, or beef-soup, was prepared partly from ox-heads, which were usually buried, instead of being used as food for the soldiers, no doubt in consequence of the difficulty of cleaning them.
General Pelissier tasted several samples of the pot-au-feu, and, addressing General Barnard, declared that he felt as interested in this unexpected exhibition as in the ceremony of the morning. The witty General Barnard replied, “Your excellency must agree with me that this day has been remarkably well spent: we devoted the morning to thecordon rouge, and the afternoon to thecordon bleu.” General Pelissier much enjoyed thebon-mot, and repeated it to the officers of his Staff, thus creating great hilarity amongst them.
I requested many of my visitors to taste the different preparations, and, much to my satisfaction, I believe almost all of them did so, and expressed their approbation of them. After pointing out the merits of the stoves to the Commanders-in-chief, I conducted them to the spot where the Scotch Division formerly cooked their rations in the old tin camp-kettles. On our way, I observed to General Pelissier that I had visited the French camp-kitchens, and found their marmites superior to the English. The soup made by the French soldiers, I said, was very good. At this the General seemed much pleased.
The space required for three or four regiments extended about three hundred and fifty feet in length. A rough wall of loose stones had been erected by the men to form a screen, which when the regiment moved was, of course, left behind. The furnaces werealso constructed of loose stones, held together by iron hoops; upon these the tin cans were placed and the rations cooked. By this plan an immense quantity of wood was inevitably wasted, and the fires were sometimes extinguished by the heavy rains. My stoves completely obviated all those previously insurmountable difficulties.
Having listened to this explanation, the Commanders-in-chief admitted the beneficial results and advantages of the stoves. However, General Simpson observed, that I, of course, applied the contrast to my advantage; but also said, it was nothing but fair, and I was perfectly justified in so doing. In the first place, my stoves occupied but little room, and cooked much better than those formerly in use. The Generals were so much pleased with them, that before leaving the camp they wrote the annexed letters in my album. The same evening I received one from the War-office, relative to my success in the hospitals at Scutari, which I also append.
The Allied Generals remained with me above an hour. This gave me an excellent opportunity of conversing with General Pelissier, who minutely described camp life in Algeria, after which the General and Staff retired. As it was then nearly seven o’clock, a great number of officers followed. No less than eight hundred or a thousand persons of distinction visited the kitchens during the day: many were not invited, in consequence of the unfortunate accident to Colonel Seymour. About nine all was over, and the band played “God save the Queen.”
Nothing could have succeeded better than this opening, a drawing of which appeared in theIllustrated Newsof September 22nd, 1855.
General Pelissier’s Letter.J’ai eu le plaisir, le vingt-sept Août, 1855, de visiter l’établissement culinaire de Monsieur Soyer, et j’ai été bien satisfait de ce que j’y ai vu; j’ai été frappé surtout de l’économie de temps et de chauffage apporté dans l’alimentation des troupes. Les chaudières paraissent bien entendues; j’ai tout goûté, et à tout, je le reconnais, j’ai trouvé un goût excellent et très-appétissant.General A. Pelissier.
General Pelissier’s Letter.
J’ai eu le plaisir, le vingt-sept Août, 1855, de visiter l’établissement culinaire de Monsieur Soyer, et j’ai été bien satisfait de ce que j’y ai vu; j’ai été frappé surtout de l’économie de temps et de chauffage apporté dans l’alimentation des troupes. Les chaudières paraissent bien entendues; j’ai tout goûté, et à tout, je le reconnais, j’ai trouvé un goût excellent et très-appétissant.
General A. Pelissier.
OPENING OF SOYER’S FIELD KITCHEN BEFORE SEBASTOPOL.OPENING OF SOYER’S FIELD KITCHEN BEFORE SEBASTOPOL.
General Simpson’s Letter.Camp before Sebastopol,31st August, 1855.I had much pleasure in visiting Monsieur Soyer’s field-kitchen last Monday, the 27th instant. I there saw several excellent soups made from ration meat, compressed vegetables, and other things within reach of the soldier’s means, and cooked with very little fuel. I consider Monsieur Soyer is taking great pains in devoting his time and great talents to the good of our military service, especially in the field, and I wish him every possible success and honourable reward.James Simpson,General Commanding.
General Simpson’s Letter.Camp before Sebastopol,31st August, 1855.
I had much pleasure in visiting Monsieur Soyer’s field-kitchen last Monday, the 27th instant. I there saw several excellent soups made from ration meat, compressed vegetables, and other things within reach of the soldier’s means, and cooked with very little fuel. I consider Monsieur Soyer is taking great pains in devoting his time and great talents to the good of our military service, especially in the field, and I wish him every possible success and honourable reward.
James Simpson,General Commanding.
War-Office,6th August, 1855.Sir,—I am directed to acknowledge the receipt, on the 2nd ultimo, of your report upon the culinary department of the hospitals in the East; and, in returning the thanks of the Secretary-at-War, to acquaint you, that he recognises, with the greatest satisfaction, the exertions you have made and are still making for the benefit of the army in the field, and also of the sick and wounded in the several hospitals.I am, Sir, your obedient servant,Fred. J. Prescott.M. Soyer, Scutari.
War-Office,6th August, 1855.
Sir,—I am directed to acknowledge the receipt, on the 2nd ultimo, of your report upon the culinary department of the hospitals in the East; and, in returning the thanks of the Secretary-at-War, to acquaint you, that he recognises, with the greatest satisfaction, the exertions you have made and are still making for the benefit of the army in the field, and also of the sick and wounded in the several hospitals.
I am, Sir, your obedient servant,Fred. J. Prescott.
M. Soyer, Scutari.
About the 5th of September, I was at head-quarters, when who should walk in but Sir Edmund Lyons! I had not had the pleasure of seeing him before, and I took this opportunity of introducing myself, and informing the Commander of the British Fleet in the Black Sea, that I was very anxious to pay my respectful compliments to him.
Upon this, Sir Edmund Lyons, with the kindest feeling, at once offered me his hand, saying, “Monsieur Soyer, I assure you I am delighted to make your acquaintance. You are doing much good for our brave soldiers; but you must not forget our worthy sailors. Come and see us on board theAlbert; you will be well received and quite welcome. I have heard much about your field-kitchens, and it was only the other day I was reading a very important complimentary letter which General Pelissier had written in their favour.”
“He did me that honour, admiral, and he seemed highly gratified.”
“I can assure you he was, Monsieur Soyer, for I heard him say so.”
A few days after the grand opening ceremony, a meeting took place, by order of the Minister-at-War and General Simpson, to consider the possibility of supplying a pint of hot soup to the men in the trenches during the winter. The meeting was held at Lord Rokeby’s head-quarters, on the 3rd or 4th of September. I was ordered to be present. On my way there I had the pleasure of meeting General Barnard, who in his humorous manner addressed me thus:—
“Hallo, General Soyer! I’m not so much behind as I thought; for you are only just going to the general meeting, or the meeting of generals.”
“You are right, general,” I replied. “Thank you for the noble title you have bestowed upon me, and at the seat of war too.”
“The fact is, I understood the meeting was to be held at head-quarters, and went half-way there, when I met some officers who told me it was to be at Lord Rokeby’s. But they cannot proceed without you, general. Never mind, Soyer, we are only a few minutes behind time.”
When we arrived, the Board was sitting. Sir Colin Campbell had sent a message, stating that some important duties would prevent his attendance. The proceedings then commenced, and the order was read by General Bentinck; which, as far as I can recollect, was worded thus:—
Lord Panmure, the Minister-at-War, anxious for the comfort of the troops in the Crimea, is desirous that, if possible, every man in the trenches should be supplied with a basin of hot soup during the winter nights; the allowance of rum to be, in consequence, either diminished or entirely withheld. His lordship believing Monsieur Soyer to be still in the Crimea, requests the Board to inquire of him if such would be practicable.
Lord Panmure, the Minister-at-War, anxious for the comfort of the troops in the Crimea, is desirous that, if possible, every man in the trenches should be supplied with a basin of hot soup during the winter nights; the allowance of rum to be, in consequence, either diminished or entirely withheld. His lordship believing Monsieur Soyer to be still in the Crimea, requests the Board to inquire of him if such would be practicable.
I at once replied that it could be done, and without difficulty, for any number of men, by the application of my field-stoves. This answer met with the general approbation of the assembled Board. I next remarked that the stoves might be placed in the trenches, even infront of the enemy, as not a spark of fire could be seen either by day or night while they were in use. This point having been satisfactorily settled, the question of taking away or reducing the quantity of rum was seriously debated. General Eyre was of opinion that the men would not like to part with any portion of their rum. Generals Bentinck, Rokeby, &c., were in favour of giving the soup as an addition, and allowing the rum to be issued as usual. It struck me that by giving only half a gill of rum the other half would almost entirely cover the expense of the soup, if economically managed. I also proposed another plan, which was to give less rum and less than a pint of soup, which was discussed.
When the inquiry was over, I said—“Gentlemen, I shall feel obliged if you will favour me with a visit to my field kitchen. I have made several experiments in diets for you to taste, and if you approve of them, have no doubt, when you know the cost, you will be able to settle the question of supplying soup in the trenches with more certainty.”
All present agreed, excepting General Eyre, who was of opinion that what he as a soldier had for so many years found answer for the men, would answer now; nor did he see why the soldiers should live better than himself. “I should be very happy,” said he, “to improve the daily food of the troops, but do not like anything to be overdone. I like judicious discipline in all things.”
Though I must frankly admit I was anything but enchanted with the general’s way of thinking at first, I could not but admire the latter part of his argument, which was as sincere as it was severe.
Several debates took place upon the subject, and, after a little persuasion, I induced them all to come, and taste the samples I had prepared for their inspection. I proudly led my very select cavalcade towards my batteries, which upon that occasion were in charge of the troops. I had only given the written receipts for them to act upon, and charged a sergeant to watch over them, and see that the proportions in the receipts were properly attended to. An infallible plan of ensuring success at all times is toappoint a man of superior grade as overlooker. One to each regiment would be sufficient.
Upon our arrival we found everything in perfect order: the stoves were clean, the contents properly cooked, and the consumption of fuel four hundred per cent. less than in the usual way. Only five different messes were prepared upon this occasion—viz., ox-head soup, stewed fresh beef, Scotch hodge-podge of mutton, salt pork and beef with dumplings. Everything was done to perfection. After carefully explaining the process to Generals Eyre and Bentinck, who were not present on the great opening day, we sat down to test the quality of the articles. A sumptuous lunch was displayed from the soldiers’ rations—always excepting the ox heads, which I had obtained from the butcher, as usual, on the eve of their funeral. With these I made an excellentpot au feu, enough for fifty men. Lord Rokeby was so highly delighted with it, that he recommended it to all, and requested me to give this receipt, as well as that for stewed beef, to his cook—for which seeAddenda.
A goblet of Marsala wine, with a lump of ice, terminated this martial collation under a burning sun, and amid the everlasting roar of the bombardment of the besieged city. The guests retired, quite satisfied. Even General Eyre, though still adhering to his opinion that it was too good for soldiers, and would make them lazy, said, “Soldiers do not require such good messes as those while campaigning.” At which remark the gentlemen present could not refrain from laughing.
“Well, general,” said I, “your plan has been tried, and, as you perceive, has not answered. I was therefore obliged to introduce a simpler style, by which soldiers might cook with pleasure and less difficulty, and, having once learnt, always will cook properly, and with less trouble. You must also observe, general, that it is with the same rations as before. And is it not better to make a few good cooks out of an army than to have an army of bad cooks?”
By this time the general was on his charger. He said, “We are both right. For my part, I mean whatI say: you will improve the cook, but spoil the soldier.”
I then thanked them for their gracious condescension, and they started for their several divisions, promising to let me know their final decision.
Amongst the military authorities who visited me that day were General Scarlett and Staff, Colonel St. George, Colonel Handcock and lady, a very charming person, and extremely merry. She observed, when I presented her with some champagne and ice in a large tin goblet, as she sat upon her horse, “Upon my word, Monsieur Soyer, champagne is better in tin cups in the Crimea than in crystal goblets in England.”
“I am glad you like it, madam. Shall I offer you another?”
“No, I thank you.”
“Madam would like to taste some of the men’s rations,” said Colonel Handcock.
“Would you, madam?”
“Many thanks, Monsieur Soyer. I think not, after the champagne.”
After paying a visit to my abode, my guests departed.
A few days afterwards, I heard that that poor creature was plunged in the deepest sorrow. Upon making a chance visit, I could not believe her to be the same person; the bloom of life appeared to have suddenly deserted her laughing cheeks, which wore a cadaverous hue. Such was the effect sorrow soon produced on the appearance of one usually so animated and full of mirth. (Seepage 368.)
As I noticed that the men daily threw the fat away from their salt beef and pork, the last of which is of first-rate quality, I proposed to Colonel Daniell, of the Coldstream Guards, to make his men cook for his regiment, which was agreed upon. He always took great interest in the welfare of his soldiers and in my culinary proceedings, and I had the honour of being acquainted with him for some years as a subscriber to benevolent institutions, and in particular to soup-kitchens for the poor. The next day the rations were broughtin; the salt beef and pork were cooked, and a few dumplings added, as an innovation. The wood was weighed, and twenty-seven pounds were sufficient to cook the rations for the whole regiment. The meat was done to perfection, and without trouble. I begged that the sixteen cooks daily employed for the regiment might be present. Two would have done, or even one, as the water and provisions were brought by a fatigue party, therefore fifteen men might have been spared; and only forty-seven pounds of wood were used, instead of one thousand seven hundred and sixty. When the meat was cooked, we skimmed off forty-two pounds of fat as white as snow, and not black, as was the case when cooked in the small canteen-pans with little water. This spoilt the fat, which might be used in lieu of butter on bread or biscuit. To do this properly, soak the biscuits in water for about ten minutes; take them out, let them dry a little; put some fat in the pan; when hot, fry them as you would a piece of bacon: a few minutes will do them. When crisp, season with salt and pepper, if handy. They make an excellent article of food.
For this saving and improvement, Colonel Daniell, whom I will back for discipline and straightforwardness of opinion against any one in the army, gave me the following letter:—
Coldstream Guards’ Camp, before Sebastopol,Sept., 1855.I have this day attended Monsieur Soyer’s course of instruction to the cooks of my battalion, and have tasted the messes cooked and served to the men, consisting of salt pork and beef. The mode in which the salt is extracted and the meat rendered comparatively tender by the apparatus used, the facility with which the grease is taken off and rendered serviceable for other purposes, is admirable; and I consider the arrangements relative to the small consumption of wood, and the simplicity with which the cooking is conducted, will, if adopted, tend much to the health, comfort, and well-being of the soldier.The present size of the “chaudrières” being objectionable, I am glad to hear from Monsieur Soyer that he is about to procure some of a less size. The fuel consumed to-day for cooking the messes of eight companies was hardly more than on ordinary occasions is consumedby one company; and from four hundred and twenty rations of salt pork and beef, forty-eight pounds of excellent lard was procured, which usually is wasted. These facts alone render Monsieur Soyer’s plan at once economical and desirable, and I have great pleasure in testifying my appreciation of the manner with which he conveys instruction to the men, in saying how highly I approve of his recipes and arrangements for carrying out his scheme of camp cookery.(Signed)H. J. Daniell,Col. and Capt. in Command, First BattalionColdstream Guards.
Coldstream Guards’ Camp, before Sebastopol,
Sept., 1855.
I have this day attended Monsieur Soyer’s course of instruction to the cooks of my battalion, and have tasted the messes cooked and served to the men, consisting of salt pork and beef. The mode in which the salt is extracted and the meat rendered comparatively tender by the apparatus used, the facility with which the grease is taken off and rendered serviceable for other purposes, is admirable; and I consider the arrangements relative to the small consumption of wood, and the simplicity with which the cooking is conducted, will, if adopted, tend much to the health, comfort, and well-being of the soldier.
The present size of the “chaudrières” being objectionable, I am glad to hear from Monsieur Soyer that he is about to procure some of a less size. The fuel consumed to-day for cooking the messes of eight companies was hardly more than on ordinary occasions is consumedby one company; and from four hundred and twenty rations of salt pork and beef, forty-eight pounds of excellent lard was procured, which usually is wasted. These facts alone render Monsieur Soyer’s plan at once economical and desirable, and I have great pleasure in testifying my appreciation of the manner with which he conveys instruction to the men, in saying how highly I approve of his recipes and arrangements for carrying out his scheme of camp cookery.
(Signed)H. J. Daniell,Col. and Capt. in Command, First BattalionColdstream Guards.
The regiments being at that time greatly reduced, were only 428 strong, therefore the weight of meat, at one pound per man, was 428 pounds, from which 42 pounds of excellent fat were obtained, much preferable for cooking purposes to the rancid butter sold in the canteens at a very high price. As I was anxious to form a perfect regimental kitchen, I proposed to Colonel Daniell to fit up one for his regiment. His men were already well acquainted with the use of the field stoves; and it would serve as a model for all. Colonel Daniell agreed, and in less than an hour the stoves were removed to the camp, where they remained by sanction of the General-in-Chief till the end of the war.
At this time I went to head-quarters, and urged the necessity of telegraphing an order for four hundred small field-stoves, which order had been agreed upon in case my plan succeeded and was adopted by the authorities. I also had several interviews with General Airey, upon the subject. This number was sufficient for the supply of the whole of the army then in the Crimea. As there was so much business at head-quarters in consequence of the anticipated attack upon Sebastopol, the order was postponed for a few days.
Trip to Kamiesch—Bornet’s love for war—Dangerous quarters—Arrival at Kamiesch—Town of pasteboard—The 8th of September—Orders for the assault—Carousals—Looking on—Stopped by the sentinels—Get by at last—The batteries open fire—The French flag on the Malakhoff—Wounded men—The officer’s wife—Naval officers trying to dodge the sentries—Become my guests—Reports respecting General Wyndham—Cathcart’s Hill—The Duke of Newcastle—Dine with General Wyndham on the day of the attack upon Sebastopol—Sir John Campbell and the French cook—An excellent dinner—Rare autographs—General Wyndham summoned to head-quarters.
Trip to Kamiesch—Bornet’s love for war—Dangerous quarters—Arrival at Kamiesch—Town of pasteboard—The 8th of September—Orders for the assault—Carousals—Looking on—Stopped by the sentinels—Get by at last—The batteries open fire—The French flag on the Malakhoff—Wounded men—The officer’s wife—Naval officers trying to dodge the sentries—Become my guests—Reports respecting General Wyndham—Cathcart’s Hill—The Duke of Newcastle—Dine with General Wyndham on the day of the attack upon Sebastopol—Sir John Campbell and the French cook—An excellent dinner—Rare autographs—General Wyndham summoned to head-quarters.
EARLYon the 3rd of September we started for Kamiesch; but, as usual, Bornet could not forget his old trade, and love for his fellow-soldiers. “Governor,” said he, “the 3rd Zouaves who were on duty in the trenches last night are on their return to camp. It is eight o’clock, and if we take this ravine we shall meet some of them, and learn what is going on.”
Having the whole day before us, I consented to go; we took the road called the French Ravine, which led from the French head-quarters to the trenches before Sebastopol. The returning Zouaves we met, but the cannon balls also met us. Being in the ravine, we were not in great danger, as they passed over our heads and fell on our left side. The principal danger was when they struck a large stone, causing it to roll down the side of the ravine, sometimes at a terrific rate.
The shells were far more objectionable; but, thanks to Providence, none hit us. While retreating, Bornet said, “By a thousand bombs, governor, it must be a fresh battery they are firing from: we always used to go this way to the trenches.”
“Well,” said I, “new or old, let us get out of it.”
Putting our horses to a gallop, we were soon out of danger, and on the road to Kamiesch. Near the French head-quarters we met two Zouaves. They told us the French trenches were now within twenty yards of the Malakhoff tower. “The cannon,” they said, “project about twenty feet over our heads, and cannot touch us; but the grenades, which the Russians throw among us by hundreds, cause the loss of many men, though we extinguish a great number when they fall.”
Bornet now proposed thevin blanc, but to his regret and my delight, they refused, or we should probably not have seen Kamiesch that day. In many instances I have known French soldiers refuse.
At length we arrived at Kamiesch, which I had so long seen from my quarters, but could not reach before, owing to the engrossing nature of my occupations. This French town of pasteboard, or light wood, was so different from Balaklava, that I cannot give my readers a better idea of it than by stating that it bears the same resemblance to Balaklava that Ramsgate does to Boulogne in the height of the season. The traffic, business, markets, restaurants, cafés, billiard-rooms, theatre, &c., display the difference of character between the French and English, as forcibly as Balaklava does the English from the French.
It was really remarkable to see the type of two great nations, such near neighbours, on the same foreign soil, so far from their native homes, so distinctly preserved, while the people agreed so well together. Some of the restaurants were pretty good, very expensive, not very clean, but always full. Money seemed of no consequence, as every one tried to get it out of you if you were rash enough to eat, drink, or purchase anything.
The sea-port was very fine; Kamiesch, flat, sandy, and unpicturesque. Balaklava was a perfect garden; Kamiesch a well populated desert.
The evening of the 7th of September was a memorable one. Each mind was animated; men of the most pacific disposition were transformed into lions or tigers, furiously seeking to devour their prey.
Amidst the most terrible discharges of cannon, the order for the general attack was announced to the troopsfor the following day. The news acted like an electric spark, and inspired all hearts. Each soldier appeared to breathe more freely; hope, the enchantress, filled the hearts of the brave with enthusiasm; fear was unknown; all faces were radiant with lust of glory and vengeance.
Having heard that the attack was to take place, at midday I visited the French camp with my Zouave, where we found the same animation and excitement. One of the soldiers said to my Zouave:
“By all the camels in Arabia, Bornet, are you coming to join in the dance? If you are, I invite you for the first quadrille; but you must play the clarionet (slang term for gun). Here’s a chance of having your portrait spoiled—it just suits me.”
“What do you think of it, governor—shall I go?”
“It is impossible, my dear fellow, for me to oblige you upon this occasion, as your services will be more useful to-morrow, when no doubt, whichever way the victory may turn, the hospitals will be full. Therefore I hope you will forgive me for saving your life against your will. I am sure, if you had a chance, you would be the first to mount the breach, and consequently the first to be knocked over.”
His late comrades in arms did not see the force of this. They knew he had some money, and did not like to part with him. The idea struck me to order a few bottles of wine at the canteen near their tents, in return for their hospitality in offering us their ration rum and brandy. About five-and-twenty more joined us when I gave the invitation. I knew that Bornet had only a few shillings in his pocket, which shillings, by-the-bye, were very liberally taken by the vivandière as a great favour, at the value of a French franc. After several farewells we parted.
The morning of the 8th of September, 1855, arrived. Aurora smiled gaily upon the far-famed city, the sentinels on all sides were at their posts, and in the Russian camp no doubt the watchword circulated as usual. It was thus in the allied camps, but pronounced quicker; the step of the relief guard was that of quick march, every nerve was in action, and strained to the utmost.The scene at the race for the Derby alone could give the reader an idea of the sudden energy which filled every bosom, on hearing that the attack was to take place, with this difference, that life seemed of less consequence to every one in the Crimea than the loss of money on that terrible day of chance. All had a share in the lottery. Glory was to turn the wheel of fortune, and every one seemed sure of winning. All hoped to gather laurels from the arid soil so long moistened with blood.
At four o’clock we were all up; about five the Guards were on their march towards the besieged city; troops from all quarters were silently marching in the same direction; every heart was beating high; the day had at last arrived which was to decide a great question. At seven all were at their post. Bornet and myself started on horseback directly, after seeing the Scots Fusiliers pass through the Guards’ camp, close to our tents. On catching sight of them, my Zouave exclaimed, “What a splendid regiment, gouverneur, que ces Montagnards Ecossais! I have a great mind to follow them: I shall, too!”
“I am sure you sha’n’t,” said I, clutching him by the coat collar.
After making a long détour, a sentinel let us pass. As we were nearer the Woronzoff Road than the Cathcart Hill Cemetery, we went in that direction, and took up our position to witness the grand spectacle. For some time a profound silence reigned amongst the troops, who seemed as though they were buried in the trenches. The weather, which had been fine the preceding days, and even till sunrise on that eventful morning, suddenly changed. In a short time the elements assumed a threatening aspect, and a furious tempest raged in every direction. A clouded sky had replaced the azure blue, the fierce gusts of wind raised thick clouds of dust, which rolled majestically towards us like a moving castle, blinding every one for a time. The cold air chilled everybody, and was so violent that one could scarcely keep one’s saddle, or see twenty yards in advance. Showers of hail burst here and there over the now excited andinfuriated camp and Sebastopol; the scene of action was almost invisible. It appeared as though the evil genius of the storm had on that glorious day attached his seal of destruction to that desecrated spot. Even the sun (l’ami Soleil), the world’s friend, seemed to fear to face this scene of horror and desolation, and while smiling upon the remainder of the mighty globe, had, in appearance, withdrawn from the harrowed city of Sebastopol.
Suddenly the batteries opened fire in every direction, shaking the very soil on which we stood. Clouds of smoke enveloped the besieged city. Not a thing could be seen or heard but a continuous rolling noise similar to that of an earthquake. All at once the noise ceased, and the rattle of musketry was heard, with, at intervals, cannon and mortar shot. By degrees, thanks to the heavy gale, the atmosphere got clearer, and by the aid of a telescope one could distinctly see the French flag floating from the Malakhoff, and the troops mounting to the assault. An hour had scarcely elapsed when the news was brought of the capture of the Malakhoff by the French, and of the Redan by the English. Aides-de-camp were flying in every direction; and numbers of wounded were on their way to the hospitals. We quitted our post to go to the General Hospital, in order to see whether our services were required. As we were crossing the English camp, a corpse was borne past us, carried by four soldiers. Upon inquiry I learned, with sorrow, that it was the body of Colonel H. R. Handcock, whom, a few days before, I had had the pleasure of entertaining at my kitchens, with his young and very interesting wife.
The latter had been an eye-witness of the assault, and I was informed that, by the greatest imprudence, the mutilated body of her husband had just been uncovered before her. She fainted at the sight, and was borne to her residence, where she lay for some time dangerously ill. This will account for the sudden alteration in her appearance before mentioned.
The fight still raged, the weather was a little calmer, and we left the field of battle, intending to gallop at once tothe hospital. On reaching the line of sentries, we met two naval officers who were trying to pass, in order to obtain a view of the action from Cathcart’s Hill. They were having a rather warm discussion, the sentry doing his duty by stopping them. I pulled up my horse, and told them that unless they had an order from head-quarters they could not pass. Though much vexed, they thanked me, and submitted to the disappointment. I was about leaving them, when I heard one say to the other—
“What shall we do? I would give any money for a glass of wine or a cup of coffee.”
“So would I,” said the other. “Where is there a Canteen, sentry?”
“It would be of no use my telling you,” the sentry replied, “as they are all closed during the siege, or at least for to-day, in order to prevent men left in the camp from quitting their post. Several robberies were perpetrated in camp upon former occasions.”
I overheard their conversation, in which they stated that they had started without breakfast, and been a long way round—nearly seven miles among the hills—and had seen nothing after all, as the pickets would not let them pass the line of Balaklava.
“Gentlemen,” said I, “if you will come with me to my tent, I think I can keep you from starving, and have no doubt you will fare there as well, if not better, than in a Canteen. I can also give you a description of the siege, having been an eyewitness of the same.”
They thanked me, and accepted my offer. On our way to quarters, I recounted the melancholy death of Colonel Handcock. My Zouave had by this time arrived—no one but the groom was at home, and he could speak neither French nor English, being a Greek—so I set my Zouave to lay the table; and with my magic stove I cooked some ration-mutton, made an omelette, brought out a piece of cold beef, bread, &c., and gave them a bottle of ale and a glass of sherry. In twenty minutes their hunger was appeased, and I told them they were welcome to stay, but that I must proceed to my duty. At the same time I informed them, that at six o’clock dinner would be ready, and they were welcome to partake of it if theyhappened to be about the camp; but that they were on no account to wait for me in case I did not return, as I did not know what I might have to do in the hospitals. They thanked me for my hospitality, and said they would try and see something of the battle, and if anywhere about my quarters, would be too happy to return to dinner.
We then parted; they proceeding towards Sebastopol, and I to the hospital. On my arrival I found, to my surprise, that not one wounded man had been brought in. After waiting some time I saw Dr. Mouatt, and inquired if anything extra was wanted; his reply was, “We have all that is needed for their reception.”
I then went to the purveyor, and to the kitchen; but fearing, as the battle was raging fiercely, the number of wounded might exceed the means at their disposal, I remained about the hospitals. I did this in case my services might be required, as I was well aware of the importance of speedy relief to the sufferers.
Towards evening the wounded began to arrive, though not in great numbers. I left my Zouave there and returned to the camp, telling him if anything was required, to ride home at once and inform me, as the doctors would be so much engaged—and in particular Dr. Mouatt, who would most probably not be able to devote his time to the culinary department. As I rode towards Sebastopol, to have another look at the battle, I met only a few wounded. Upon inquiring of the orderlies in charge whether there were many more, they replied that they could not say, but they believed that there were a great number. I then returned to my tent, and a few minutes afterwards my naval friends arrived. The dinner was served up, and they told me that they had had a good view of the besieged city from the French lines. In the course of conversation, they informed me that Colonel (now General) Wyndham had invited them to dinner that day. I replied, “I am very anxious about him, as he led the storming party in the Redan, and I have heard the attack has been very severe, and many were killed and wounded on both sides.” I also heardthat it had been retaken by the Russians, and feared he might have been taken prisoner, if not wounded or killed.
When dinner was over, I proposed to pass them through the lines and make inquiry about him. We proceeded to Cathcart’s Hill—it was then nearly dusk—I on horseback, they on foot. The camp around us was as still and deserted as in the morning; scarcely any one was to be seen till we reached the lines. Very few shots were heard, but every one was at his post. Upon reaching Cathcart’s Hill, I alighted to speak with his Grace the Duke of Newcastle, who had been in the trenches all day and had just returned. He was kind enough to give me the details of the attacks on both sides, and said that he was waiting for General Bentinck, who had not yet been seen, and that he hoped nothing had happened to him. I observed, “This is a most anxious hour for all who have friends engaged in so serious and dangerous an encounter.”
While conversing with the Duke, I missed my two companions. Thinking they knew the position of Colonel Wyndham’s quarters, I went there expecting to find them. My first and most anxious inquiry of the servant, who knew me well, was, “What news of the Colonel?”
“Oh, all right, Monsieur Soyer,” he replied with great satisfaction. “If you wish to see him, he is gone to Colonel Wood’s tent—you know where it is.”
“No I don’t.”
“Then I’ll show you—he will be glad to see you.”
“I will not trouble you, as I would not disturb him on such a day for the world. I am glad to hear he is safe; but have you seen two gentlemen?”
“No one excepting yourself, sir. You must come with me; my master is alone, waiting for the Colonel, and I’m sure they will both be happy to see you.”
Colonel Wyndham had just changed his clothes before going to the Colonel’s to dine. His servant showed them to me; they were covered with blood and dust. I followed him to Colonel Wood’s hut, and found Colonel Wyndham walking quickly to and fro in the hut, apparently much preoccupied and excited. His eyes emitted flashesof fire, his open countenance had assumed its usual majestic calm and dignity, his lips were parched, his proud brow betokened much restlessness, and though his forehead was covered with glory, you could perceive through the wreath of laurel which had only a few hours before been deposited there by Mars, a deep shadow of thoughtfulness and care. His physiognomy told a tale. Victory had of him made a great hero, without having had time to put her final seal to his martial and petulant ardour. Another battle was yet to be fought.
Seeing me, he came forward and shook me by the hand, inviting me to enter. We were together about half-an-hour, and he related to me the great events of the attack upon the Redan, now so well known to the public. Colonel Wood came in, also free from wounds, to the delight of all, and invited me to dine with them. I told him that I had already dined, but could not refuse the honour upon so memorable an occasion.
We then sat down to dinner. François,[20]the Colonel’s French cook, with whose culinary capacities I was wellacquainted, having dined several times with the Colonel, told me he never felt less interest, or prepared a dinner with so much reluctance, fearing no one would return to eat it after such a sanguinary battle. Highly delighted was he when Colonel Wyndham came in, and more so when he found that his excellent governor (as he called him) had returned safe and sound. Every officer in the camp knew François, and the Colonel’s table got quite in repute through the exertions of this culinary disciple of Vattel. He used to go to the trenches, leaving his own batteries to brave those of the enemy, and all this for the comfort of his excellent governor. He was much liked by all, and always had a budget of anecdotes, some of them very interesting. He had lived as cook and major domo for several years with Madame Grisi. The last time I saw him he was in daily expectation of the Sebastopol medal.
The dinner was served, but I must say it was not sorecherchéas on former occasions; it seemed to have been prepared for sick epicures, or at least those who hovered between life and death. The conversation upon the events of the day was so animated that no one but myself perceived the difference. The Colonel’s excellent wine was highly relished, and in drinking the health of Colonels Wyndham and Wood, I requested the former to make a note of the fact that I had the honour of dining with him and Colonel Wood a few hours after the battle, as probably no one would credit it. This the Colonel immediately did, and Colonel Wood added his autograph, of which the following is a copy:—