Soyer's Culinary Campaign: Being Historical Reminiscences of the Late War. Soyer Alexis
retired. The ambassadress then ordered the footman in waiting to conduct me to Signor Roco’s apartment; expressing her desire to meet me with him the next day at the Kululee and Scutari hospitals. I promised to attend at those places on the following morning, and took my leave.
A walk through the gallery and corridor of that noble mansion brought us to Signor Roco Vido’s door. An indication on the outside apprised me that my cicerone was a child of la belle Italie, which at first caused me some fear lest this should create impediments and delay in our business transactions, as I only understood the language of the Italian opera. A few words from the footman soon brought me in amicable contact with the major-domo of the Palais d’Angleterre, who spoke excellent English, and, like his illustrious master, was surrounded by archives, but only of culinary and household affairs. The contents of these, though not so important to the world, were nearly as substantial, more especially the bill of fare, which in itself is capable of influencing any diplomatic subject. A good one gratifies the stomach and soothes the brain, which is necessarily influenced by the quality, succulence, and scientific preparation of the aliments imparted to the first organ.
Such was the important office entrusted to the guidance of Signor Roco Vido. And who can say, after all, that the late destructive war was not partly, or even entirely, caused by a dinner? Did not the French revolution of ‘48 emanate from a banquet? and upon this occasion, 1854, six years after, a most unaccountable gastronomic event occurred. Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, on his return to Constantinople as plenipotentiary, had for the first time invited his Excellency Prince Menschikoff to a grand diplomatic dinner, where all the representatives of the then united Courts were to assemble. The day was fixed for the 21st of March, 1854, and the invitations were cordially accepted, most especially by the representative of the Czar; he being, no doubt, anxious to read upon the brow of the diplomatist the political feeling of his nation. That very day, towards noon, the Sultan’s mother died. In the morning she had written a letter to his Excellency, expressive of her full confidence that he would study the future welfare of her son in his relations with the British Government. On account of this mournful event, and with a most profound feeling of respect and veneration for the Imperial mourner, the dinner was postponed for a week; and while the dark veil was laid over the banqueting-table, and the black seal was set upon the batterie de cuisine, and numerous bouches à feu de l’Ambassade britannique, his Excellency Prince Menschikoff was on board a Russian man-of-war anchored at the mouth of the Black Sea, waiting with all the dignity and defiance imaginable for the determination of peace or war. The diplomatic banquet never took place! the war did!
I consider a postponed diplomatic dinner to be an universal calamity, especially when only a few hours’ notice of the postponement is given; and I cannot but quote the Gastronomic Regenerator, page 342, published in the year 1842, in which I say—
“Rien ne dispose mieux l’esprit humain à des transactions amicales qu’un dîner bien conçu et artistement préparé. Lisez l’histoire, et vous y trouverez que, dans tous les temps et chez tous les peuples, le bien qui s’est fait, et quelquefois le mal, fut toujours précédé ou suivi d’un copieux dîner.”
Translation.—“Nothing can prepare the human mind for amicable intercourse better than a well-conceived and artistically-prepared dinner. Read history, and you will ascertain that at all periods, and amongst all nations, the benefits, and sometimes the evils, they experienced, were either preceded or followed by a good dinner.”
CHAPTER VIII.
FIRST VIEW OF THE SCENE OF ACTION.
Cordial reception—Table-d’hôte—Absence of the fair sex—Warlike sentiments—Toasts—Scene at the Tophané landing-place—A chorus of boatmen—Caiques and caidjees—Romantic illusions dispelled—Crossing the Bosphorus—The Barrack Hospital—Lord William Paulet—Warm welcome—Dr. Cumming’s apartment—Plans discussed—Melancholy sights—Return to Pera—Another conversation with Signor Roco Vido—Articles supplied by him to the hospitals—Wounded Russians—Origin of the hospital—An appointment.
THE same day, I despatched one of my men to the Barrack Hospital at Scutari, to inform Lord William Paulet—at that period Brigadier-General of the British army—of my arrival at Constantinople, and to inquire at what hour his lordship would favour me with an interview. Upon my return from the Palais d’Angleterre, I found that my man Julian had arrived from Scutari, much, pleased with his lordship’s reception, but terribly frightened by his passage en caïque across the Bosphorus, which that day was so rough that all his clothes were wet through. “The caidjee would not take me there and back for less than five shillings,” said he.
“Well, never mind that, so long as you have seen his lordship and are safe upon terra firma.”
“I must tell you, sir, that upon announcing your arrival, his lordship seemed very much pleased, and observed, ‘So Monsieur Soyer has arrived! Where is he?’ ‘At Pera, my lord, at the Hôtel des Ambassadeurs.’ ‘I had the pleasure of knowing M. Soyer,’ said his lordship, ‘when he came to Ireland in the year of the famine. Tell him I shall be happy to see him any time to-morrow between the hours of nine and four.’ ‘Thank you, my lord. I shall not fail to acquaint M. Soyer of the kind reception you have given me on his behalf.’”
Highly gratified at the kind reception I had received from Lord and Lady Stratford de Redcliffe, and fixing my visit to Lord William Paulet for nine or ten the next morning, I then visited General Cannon at Messerie’s Hotel, to inform him of the progress I was making, and to tell him that all appeared encouraging. I felt it my duty to do this, as he and all the officers on board the Simois expressed considerable interest in my undertaking. As General Cannon was out, I had the pleasure of seeing his aide-de-camp, Captain Harbuckle, who promised to inform the General of the subject of my visit. On inquiring for Mr. Messerie, I found him busily engaged in the entrance-hall. He took me to his private room, and we had a long conversation. He very kindly gave me much valuable information respecting the products of the country, which, he stated, differed much from those found in the English markets in quality, though little in price, as all kinds of provisions had risen to double, and in some cases triple, what they were before the commencement of the war.
“That,” I answered, “could not fail to be the case, considering the immense influx of troops daily arriving at Constantinople.”
“Any information or assistance you may require, Monsieur, I shall, as a confrère, be happy to give you, and will also endeavour to render myself useful as well as agreeable.”
I promised to pay him a visit now and then when I came to Pera, and we parted. It would be difficult for any one to imagine the immense number of persons who daily went in and out of this large hotel. The spacious hall was crowded with baggage. In fact, there is but one hotel in Pera, or we might say in Constantinople, and that is the one.
I next called at the “Hôtel de l’Europe,” to see Captain Ponsonby and Colonel St. George. I found they had just before left, with the intention of dining at the table-d’hôte at the “Hôtel des Ambassadeurs.” Upon my arrival there, I found a number of my fellow-travellers, all come, as they said, in expectation of finding a better dinner than at their hotel, in consequence of my being there. We certainly had a very tolerable dinner, which stamped for a time the reputation of the hotel for having one of the best tables-d’hôte in Constantinople. The room was very spacious and lofty, the table well laid out, ornamented with numerous fine bouquets of flowers, and lighted with wax lights. We sat down about forty, principally military men.
Over glasses of Greek champagne and Bordeaux wine, several laughable anecdotes relating to our voyage were told. Expressions of admiration at the view of the Moslem city from the Bosphorus—of disappointment at the disenchantment experienced on landing—were freely uttered. In fact, we all seemed to enter upon our campaign with most flourishing prospects; but we could not help remarking, and feeling at heart, the want of ladies at our board. Not one adorned