“It is to be regretted,” I said, “that the cooks in many hospitals are not allowed to put the seasoning in the savoury diets, which restriction will invariably produce very unsatisfactory results. I will here repeat the saying of Hippocrates:—‘What pleases the palate nourishes.’ If this great man has said so, it is a pity that some of his modern disciples have altered or deviated from such an ancient and just maxim, for I will vouch that a diet properly seasoned is far more generous and invigorating to the patient than the unpalatable food prepared without anything of the sort; at the same time many maladies will require various degrees of seasoning, as too much in some cases would prove equally if not more injurious than the want of it in others. This point must be left to the doctor’s discretion. I am also aware that in some hospitals salt and pepper are allowed, and, I may say, too abundantly; and each patient is permitted to season his food, not according to his taste, but his judgment: this is another evil, as he is or may be at the time entirely deprived of either taste or judgment. These remarks will be the first I shall submit to the notice of the principal doctor, and I am morally certain he will agree with me as soon as they are properly explained.”
“A most important observation,” said the Duchess; “for, even when in the enjoyment of good health, what is more disagreeable than an insipid dish?”
“I have always, madame, maintained that the cook must season for guests or patients, and not these for the cook.”
“In fact,” said I to the Marquis of Stafford, who had tasted several of the samples, “does not your lordship opine that salt and pepper should be almost excluded from the ward, and that the cook should be as responsible for seasoning the food as the apothecary is for making up the doctor’s prescription correctly?”
“Certainly; but can you persuade them to do so?”
“Very easily; by my system of diet, every recipe will be printed, framed, and hung up in the kitchen, so that any person, even a soldier (provided he can read), will be capable of executing them well, as each receipt will be comprised in a few lines.”
“Ah! that will, indeed, be most valuable, and readily applied in every hospital.”
During this conversation, the Duchess of Sutherland and the Marquis of Stafford had tasted another kind of food which I had made for the camp. It was prepared from peas-meal, in which I had introduced a due proportion of salt and pepper,—called “Symon’s ground baked peas-meal,”—and by pouring a pint of boiling water upon a good table-spoonful of it, made a most excellent and thick purée of peas quite hot. I one day, as a trial, ate nothing but that and a biscuit, and did not feel the least inclined for anything else. I do not mean to imply that such fare would do for a continuance, but when nothing else could be obtained, it certainly would be a great comfort for the troops to get a hot meal, made in a few minutes, and without trouble. All present tasted this, and expressed themselves very favourably about it. Having also left some samples of coffee, I was retiring, when the Duchess of Sutherland kindly reminded me that she should be happy to see me the morning after my interview with the Minister-at-War. Of course I should not have failed in presenting myself, even without this kind invitation.
CHAPTER III.
OFF TO THE WAR.
Reception at the War Office—Full powers granted—The Duke of Cambridge—His chef de cuisine, Comte—Model of a portable camp or field stove—Visit to Lord Shaftesbury—Dr. Andrews—An encouraging porter—Phonetic experiments—Mr. Stafford’s kind reception—Model of the stove inspected by the Duke of Cambridge and by Lord Panmure—Interview with Mr. Brunel—Dr. Mayne—Question of patent—Sir Benjamin Hawes’ office—Stafford House again—Letters of introduction—Honourable Mrs. Herbert—A recreant secretary—Quite at a non-plus—A friend in need—Farewell at London Bridge—Pavilion Hotel, Folkestone.
AT nine o’clock next morning I was at the War Office by appointment. Lord Panmure arrived at half-past, and by the kindness of Mr. Ramsay, who had mentioned my arrival, I was immediately introduced and most cordially received. After a few words on my part, as I had not had the pleasure of seeing Lord Panmure since I left the Reform Club, he inquired what I proposed doing in respect to the cooking department of Scutari Hospital. Stating briefly that which I had previously explained in detail to the Duke of Argyle when at Stafford House, and with which Lord Panmure seemed to be perfectly acquainted, he said to me,—
“You must, after you have done there, go to the Crimea, and cheer up those brave fellows in the camp;—see what you can do! Your joyful countenance will do them good, Soyer; try to teach them to make the best of their rations!”
I then observed that, first of all, I must try and succeed in the hospitals; secondly, that, if the troops in the Crimea had the same small tin camp-kettle I had seen in the camp at Chobham, it would be impossible for me to improve the style of cooking, as they were much too small, and burnt too much fuel, more especially in the open air.
“Well,” said Lord Panmure, “can you substitute anything more applicable for the camp, and which can be easily carried with the regiments while on march?”
“I will set my head to work and try, and if any plan which I consider practicable strikes me, I will have a model of it made, and submit the same for your lordship’s approval.”
“Well, do.”
“With reference to the hospital at Scutari, I believe that is a permanent building, situated near a large metropolis, full of resources, and I have nothing to risk going there and setting to work immediately. I shall start in the full conviction of being able to do some good, if your lordship honours me with your full confidence and grants me the power of acting according to my own judgment in a profession which I have successfully practised for upwards of twenty years.”
“Very good, Soyer! I shall give orders to that effect, and furnish you with letters of introduction to every department.”
“Now, I hope you will do me the honour of accepting my services as I offered them, through the medium of the public press; such acceptance on the part of your lordship will, I can assure you, much facilitate the progress of my undertaking.”
“I understand your meaning, Mr. Soyer; but I must make some arrangement for your expenses.”
“Those, of course, I shall accept, or I should be giving offence to your lordship as well as the Government; more especially as I am, after visiting Scutari, to proceed to the Crimea.”
“Well, tell me when you can start,—the mail leaves at noon to-morrow.”
“I should be most happy to leave to-morrow, but previous to my departure for so long and unexpected a journey, I have some important private affairs to settle; it will therefore be impossible.”
“Ah, truly! then I leave it to you, Soyer; but the sooner you go the better.”
“Your lordship may depend upon my anxiety and promptitude; not a day, or even a minute shall be lost.”
“Fare you well, Soyer; come and see me before your departure.”
“Of course I will; but, begging your pardon, to whom shall I address myself for any further information I may require?”
“To myself, and no one else,” was Lord Panmure’s reply.
“I should be sorry to interrupt you in the incessant business you have from morning till night.”
“My secretary, Mr. Ramsay, will always be here; but do not hesitate, if you require