perhaps were not a little
surprised as course after course made its appearance, and to soup and
fish succeeded turkeys, saddle of mutton, fowls, ham, tongue, curry,
pastry of many sorts, custards, jelly, blanc-mange, and olives. I took
a peculiar pride in doing my best when they were present, for I knew a
little of the secrets of the French commissariat. I wonder if the
world will ever know more. I wonder if the system of secresy which has
so long kept veiled the sufferings of the French army before
Sebastopol will ever yield to truth. I used to guess something of
those sufferings when I saw, even after the fall of Sebastopol,
half-starved French soldiers prowling about my store, taking eagerly
even what the Turks rejected as unfit for human food; and no one could
accuse _them_ of squeamishness. I cannot but believe that in some
desks or bureaux lie notes or diaries which shall one day be given to
the world; and when this happens, the terrible distresses of the
English army will pall before the unheard-of sufferings of the French.
It is true that they carried from Sebastopol the lion's share of
glory. My belief is that they deserved it, having borne by far a
larger proportion of suffering.

There were few dinners at Spring Hill at which the guests did not show
their appreciation of their hostess's labour by drinking her health;
and at the dinner I have above alluded to, the toast was responded to
with such enthusiasm that I felt compelled to put my acknowledgments
into the form of a little speech, which Talon interpreted to his
countrymen. The French Prince was, after this occasion, several times
at the British Hotel. He was there once when some Americans were
received by me with scarcely that cordiality which I have been told
distinguished my reception of guests; and upon their leaving I told
him--quite forgetting his own connection with America--of my prejudice
against the Yankees. He heard me for a little while, and then he
interrupted me.

"Tenez! Madame Seacole, I too am American a little."

What a pity I was not born a countess! I am sure I should have made a
capital courtier. Witness my impromptu answer:--

"I should never have guessed it, Prince."--And he seemed amused.

With the theatricals directly I had nothing to do. Had I been a little
younger the companies would very likely have been glad of me, for no
one liked to sacrifice their beards to become Miss Julia or plain Mary
Ann; and even the beardless