Soyer's Culinary Campaign: Being Historical Reminiscences of the Late War.: With The Plain Art of Cookery for Military and Civil Institutions

the pleasure of knowing. During our conversation, an old dame of a jovial appearance, but a few shades darker than the white lily, issued from the tent, bawling out, in order to make her voice heard above the noise, “Who is my new son?” to which one of the officers replied, “Monsieur Soyer, to be sure; don’t you know him?” “God bless me, my son, are you Monsieur Soyer of whom I heard so much in Jamaica? Well, to be sure! I have sold many and many a score of your Relish and other sauces--God knows how many.” “My dear lady,” said I, “don’t blame me for that; I assure you I am not at all offended with you for so doing, and shall allow you to sell as much more in the Crimea.” “So I would if I could only get them. Bless me, I had a gross about ten days ago, and they are all gone; nor can I get any more for another month perhaps. Come down, my son, and take a glass of champagne with my old friend, Sir John Campbell.” I immediately alighted, and Sir John came towards me and shook me heartily by the hand, saying, “Welcome to the seat of war, Monsieur Soyer!” “Many thanks, general, for your kind wishes. I had the pleasure of leaving my card at Cathcart’s Hill the other day.” “You did; and I was very sorry that I was out when you called; but mind, you must come and dine with me some day.” “Thank you, general, I shall do myself the honour.” “Now, Mrs. Seacole, give us another bottle of champagne.” “Mrs. Seacole,” I exclaimed; “is that lady the celebrated Mrs. Seacole?” “Of course,” said the general. She then came forth from her bivouac cellar, with two bottles in her hands, exclaiming, “I shall stand mine, and no mistake.” We all declared it would never do for a lady to stand treat in the Crimea. “Lord bless you, Monsieur Soyer,” said the lady, “don’t you know me?” “Yes, I do now, my dear madam.” “Well, all those