Soyer's Culinary Campaign: Being Historical Reminiscences of the Late War.: With The Plain Art of Cookery for Military and Civil InstitutionsSoyer, Alexis
History
Soyer's Culinary Campaign: Being Historical Reminiscences of the Late War.: With The Plain Art of Cookery for Military and Civil Institutions
Soyer, Alexis
Cooking for military personnel; Crimean War, 1853-1856
She is rather high in stature, fair in complexion, and slim in person;
her hair is brown, and is worn quite plain; her physiognomy is most
pleasing; her eyes, of a bluish tint, speak volumes, and are always
sparkling with intelligence; her mouth is small and well formed, while
her lips act in unison, and make known the impression of her heart--one
seems the reflex of the other. Her visage, as regards expression, is
very remarkable, and one can almost anticipate by her countenance what
she is about to say: alternately, with matters of the most grave import,
a gentle smile passes radiantly over her countenance, thus proving her
evenness of temper; at other times, when wit or a pleasantry prevails,
the heroine is lost in the happy, good-natured smile which pervades her
face, and you recognise only the charming woman. Her dress is generally
of a greyish or black tint; she wears a simple white cap, and often a
rough apron. In a word, her whole appearance is religiously simple and
unsophisticated. In conversation no member of the fair sex can be more
amiable and gentle than Miss Nightingale. Removed from her arduous and
cavalier-like duties, which require the nerve of a Hercules,--and she
possesses it when required,--she is Rachel on the stage in both tragedy
and comedy.
During the voyage Miss Nightingale conversed with the captain, Major
Campbell, and one or two more gentlemen on board. Dinner-time
arrived--four bells apprized us of the fact--the deck was soon cleared,
and the table surrounded. The _pièces de résistance_ were attacked on
all sides. The last decent piece of roast beef we were to see or partake
of for some time was that day before us. Miss Nightingale and the
Sisters of Mercy dined in their cabin. The conversation was so very
lively, that one might have fancied that we were going on a pleasure
excursion instead of the solemn pilgrimage from whence so many were
never to return. All bore testimony to the good fare provided by the
captain, and exquisite pale sherry flowed in the glasses, in honour
first of her Majesty, then Miss Nightingale, next the ladies, and last,
not least, the army and navy. Some good old port, with a fine crust,
properly decanted without shaking, was then introduced, with the
inseparable and justly-famed Stilton cheese and fresh plain salad.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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