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

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 to the 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