the evening I went to the British Embassy to have a little conversation with Signor Roco Vido, respecting the Kululee hospital, and obtained from him a list of the various sorts of diets he had been supplying. He then informed me that our visit to Kululee with her ladyship was deferred for a day or two on account of so many visitors staying at the Embassy on their way to the Crimea. This news I received with much pleasure, being anxious to commence operations at the Barrack Hospital. As it was near Lord Stratford’s dinner-hour, he requested me to sit down, and gave me the book containing the account of all that he had supplied from the beginning of the war. This I took for my guide.
The list of articles supplied by Signor Roco Vido to the different hospitals is so various that it would fill several pages, and would not be interesting or useful. They consisted principally of beef-tea, chicken and mutton broth, calves’-foot jelly, arrowroot, semolina, &c. &c. The supply commenced four days after the battle of the Alma, on which occasion several wounded Russians were taken prisoners and brought to the Barrack Hospital. They were about twenty in number, among whom was General Chekanoff, who died seven days after from his wounds. He had received three bayonet thrusts, and two balls had passed through his body: his age was sixty-five. He lies in the Cemetery near the General Hospital at Scutari. A small piece of rotten plank marks the resting-place of this brave defender of his country’s cause, from which in a short time the inscription will probably be erased.[8] Signor Marco Vido, brother of Roco Vido, who afterwards acted as Miss Nightingale’s interpreter, informed me that at that time the barracks which were afterwards turned into an hospital were entirely destitute of beds, sheets, blankets, chairs, tables, cooking utensils, or food of any description; the whole of which were supplied by Lady de Redcliffe; the General Hospital was then used by the Turkish army. This was the origin of the largest and most unique hospital in the world. Signor Marco Vido did not quit the general’s side till he had expired. The latter expressed his sincere thanks to him, and also to her ladyship, for the extreme kindness shown to him.
Signor Roco re-entered, as I was about to leave, having just written a few words of thanks. He said, “I have told my lady you are here. She will be glad to see you before dinner, if you wish it.”
“No, my dear sir, I do not wish to disturb her ladyship; but pray tell her that I am entirely at her orders respecting the Kululee or Hyder Pacha Hospitals.”
“By-the-bye, I am going early to-morrow to Hyder Pacha,—perhaps you would like to come with me?” said he.
“I shall be most happy, if you go before twelve o’clock,” I replied, “as at that hour I have several appointments at the Barrack Hospital.”
“We will start at eight o’clock, if you like.”
CHAPTER IX.
COMMENCEMENT OF THE CULINARY CAMPAIGN.
Good news—First meeting with Mr. Bracebridge—The Hyder Pacha Hospital—Bad cooking—The General Hospital—Meeting with Miss Nightingale—Plans discussed—Miss Nightingale’s anxiety for a change of system—A visitorial pilgrimage—Miss Nightingale’s dietary kitchen—Bad charcoal—Extra diet kitchens—Question of seasoning—The general kitchen—Imperfect arrangements—An old acquaintance—A promising commencement.
THE next morning we started as agreed upon. On arriving at Scutari, I met a soldier who informed me that a house in Cambridge-street was being prepared for my reception. “It is not two minutes’ walk from here,” said he; “will you go and see it?”
“Thank you, not this morning; my friend is in a great hurry. When will it be ready?”
“To-morrow, or next day, at the latest.”
“That will do very well. Where can I find you if I want to see you?”
“At the Engineers’ office; my name is Corporal Hardy.”
“I thank you.”
On our way to Hyder Pacha, we met Mr. Bracebridge, talking to Dr. MacHree, the head doctor at that hospital; both of which gentlemen I very much wished to see. Upon being introduced to Mr. Bracebridge, I recognised him as an old acquaintance of my friend, the late Baronet Sir George Chetwynd, of Greedon Hall, Staffordshire, whom he frequently visited. He informed me that Miss Nightingale had heard of my arrival, and that she would be much pleased to see me.
“I was going to pay my respects,” said I, “to Mademoiselle this afternoon after post-time.”
“Oh, that will do very well,” he replied: “she will have great pleasure in seeing you.”
As the Doctor was on his way to head-quarters, and Mr. Bracebridge was going in another direction, we continued our journey, which, though short, was very fatiguing, the roads being very bad in consequence of a continuance of heavy rain. At last we arrived at the hospital, which, although the smallest, is certainly the most elegant. It was one of the Sultan’s Kiosques, and was divided into three departments—one for the officers, and two for the men. About three hundred and forty men and twenty officers were there at the time, as I was told; the latter complained very much about their cooking, the inferiority of which was unavoidable, as there was only a very small kitchen, badly built, which smoked all day, and was without ventilation. It was there that the Duke of Cambridge and staff remained during his indisposition; but I must observe that the Duke had a first-rate culinary artist, who went through the campaign with him. The Duke was only attended by a few gentlemen, and consequently it had not at the time of my visit twenty occupants. Nothing could be done properly for them, till I had built a rough wooden kitchen, and placed a civilian cook under the orders of the doctor and purveyor who had the regulation of the diets. This hospital, though very pretty, was never considered healthy, it being surrounded by gardens and marshy meadows.
After inspecting the mess-kitchen, we retired, and thence went to the General Hospital. The doctor-in-chief not being there, we were shown round by a staff-doctor. I found the kitchen very dark, and badly built, for such a number of patients; but the distribution of food and the regulation of the same were on a much better footing than at the Barrack Hospital. On noticing this to the head cook, he gave the credit to Dr. O’Flaherty. Upon being introduced to that gentleman, I recognised him as one of my visitors in Dublin, at the same time as Brigadier-General Lord W. Paulet. I promised to have the kitchen altered as soon as it could possibly be done, and started for the Barrack Hospital to visit Miss Nightingale. As Signor Roco had settled his business, he left me and returned to Pera; consequently, I entered the great Barrack Hospital alone. The entrance was crowded with officers of rank and medical gentlemen. The High-street, facing the General’s quarters, was literally crammed with soldiers, more or less conscious of the state of warlike affairs. Most of them kept vandyking from the gin palace to their quarters, their red jackets forming a strange contrast to the quiet dress and solemn air of the Moslem soldiers upon duty.
After shaking hands with some officers and doctors whom I had the pleasure of knowing in England, I inquired of a sentry for Miss Nightingale’s apartment, which he at once pointed out to me. On my entering the ante-room, a Sœur de Charité, whom I addressed, informed me that somebody was with that lady. She added, “I am aware that Miss Nightingale wishes to see you, so I will let her know that you are here.” I hoped to have a few minutes to myself in order to take an observation of this sanctuary of benevolence; but my project was defeated by my being immediately admitted; and this compels me to trace this picture from memory.
Upon entering the room, I was saluted by a lady, and not doubting that this was our heroine,
