diff options
Diffstat (limited to '43898-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 43898-0.txt | 3686 |
1 files changed, 3686 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/43898-0.txt b/43898-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa1705c --- /dev/null +++ b/43898-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3686 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43898 *** + + FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE + + THE ANGEL OF THE CRIMEA + + [Illustration: FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE.] + + + + + FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE + THE ANGEL OF THE CRIMEA + + _A STORY FOR YOUNG PEOPLE_ + + BY + + LAURA E. RICHARDS + + AUTHOR OF "CAPTAIN JANUARY," + "THE GOLDEN WINDOWS," ETC. + + [Illustration] + + ILLUSTRATED + + D. APPLETON AND COMPANY + NEW YORK AND LONDON + + 1911 + + + Copyright, 1909, by + D. APPLETON AND COMPANY + + _Published September, 1909_ + + Printed in the United States of America + + + + + TO + THE SISTER ELEANOR + + OF THE SISTERHOOD OF SAINT MARY + + HERSELF THROUGH MANY LONG YEARS A DEVOTED + WORKER FOR THE POOR, THE SICK, AND THE + SORROWFUL, THIS BRIEF RECORD OF AN + HEROIC LIFE IS AFFECTIONATELY + DEDICATED + + + For the material used in this little book I am chiefly indebted to + Sarah A. Tooley's "Life of Florence Nightingale," and to Kinglake's + "Invasion of the Crimea." + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. HOW FLORENCE GOT HER NAME--HER THREE + HOMES 1 + + II. LITTLE FLORENCE 9 + + III. THE SQUIRE'S DAUGHTER 19 + + IV. LOOKING OUT 32 + + V. WAITING FOR THE CALL 40 + + VI. THE TRUMPET CALL 45 + + VII. THE RESPONSE 58 + + VIII. SCUTARI 68 + + IX. THE BARRACK HOSPITAL 75 + + X. THE LADY-IN-CHIEF 85 + + XI. THE LADY WITH THE LAMP 98 + + XII. WINTER 114 + + XIII. MISS NIGHTINGALE UNDER FIRE 129 + + XIV. THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 143 + + XV. THE TASKS OF PEACE 159 + + + + + +FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +HOW FLORENCE GOT HER NAME--HER THREE HOMES. + + +One evening, some time after the great Crimean War of 1854-55, a company +of military and naval officers met at dinner in London. They were +talking over the war, as soldiers and sailors love to do, and somebody +said: "Who, of all the workers in the Crimea, will be longest +remembered?" + +Each guest was asked to give his opinion on this point, and each one +wrote a name on a slip of paper. There were many slips, but when they +came to be examined there was only one name, for every single man had +written "Florence Nightingale." + +Every English boy and girl knows the beautiful story of Miss +Nightingale's life. Indeed, hers is perhaps the best-loved name in +England since good Queen Victoria died. It will be a great pleasure to +me to tell this story to our own boys and girls in this country; and it +shall begin, as all proper stories do, at the beginning. + +Her father was named William Nightingale. He was an English gentleman, +and in the year 1820 was living in Italy with his wife. Their first +child was born in Naples, and they named her Parthenope, that being the +ancient name of Naples; two years later, when they were living in +Florence, another little girl came to them, and they decided to name her +also after the city of her birth. + +When Florence was still a very little child her parents came back to +England to live, bringing the two children with them. First they went to +a house called Lea Hall, in Derbyshire. It was an old, old house of gray +stone, standing on a hill, in meadows full of buttercups and clover. All +about were blossoming hedgerows full of wild roses, and great +elder-bushes heavy with white blossoms; and on the hillside below it +lies the quaint old village of Lea with its curious little stone houses. + +Lea Hall is a farmhouse now, but it still has its old flag-paved hall +and its noble staircase of oak with twisted balustrade, and broad solid +steps where little Florence and her sister "Parthe" used to play and +creep and tumble. There was another place near by where they loved even +better to play; that was the ancient house of Dethick. I ought rather to +say the ancient kitchen, for little else remained of the once stately +mansion. The rest of the house was comparatively new, but the great +kitchen was (and no doubt is) much as it was in the days of Queen +Elizabeth. + +Imagine a great room with heavy timbered roof, ponderous oaken doors, +and huge open fireplace over which hung the ancient roasting jack. In +the ceiling was a little trap-door, which looked as if it might open on +the roof; but in truth it was the entrance to a chamber hidden away +under the roof, a good-sized room, big enough for several persons to +hide in. + +Florence and her sister loved to imagine the scenes that had taken place +in that old kitchen; strange and thrilling, perhaps terrible scenes; +they knew the story of Dethick, and now you shall hear it too. + +In that old time which Tennyson calls "the spacious days of great +Elizabeth," Dethick belonged to a noble family named Babington. It was a +fine house then. The oaken door of the old kitchen opened on long +corridors and passages, which in turn led to stately halls and noble +galleries. There were turrets and balconies overlooking beautiful +gardens; and on the stone terraces gay lords and ladies used to walk and +laugh and make merry, and little children run and play and dance, and +life go on very much as it does now, with work and play, love and +laughter and tears. + +One of the gay people who used to walk there was Anthony Babington. He +was a gallant young gentleman, an ardent Catholic, and devoted to the +cause of the beautiful and unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots. + +Though ardent and devoted, Babington was a weak and foolish young man. +He fell under the influence of a certain Ballard, an artful and +designing person who had resolved to bring about the death of the great +English Queen, and was induced by him to form the plot which is known in +history as Babington's Conspiracy; so he was brought to ruin and death. + +In the year 1586 Queen Mary was imprisoned at Wingfield Manor, a country +house only a few miles distant from Dethick. The conspirators gathered +other Catholic noblemen about them, and planned to release Queen Mary +and set her once more on the throne. + +They used to meet at Dethick where, it is said, there is a secret +passage underground leading to Wingfield Manor. Perhaps--who +knows?--they may have sat in the kitchen, gathering about the great +fireplace for warmth; the lights out, for fear of spies, only the +firelight gleaming here and there, lighting up the dark corners and the +eager, intent faces. And when the plot was discovered, and Queen +Elizabeth's soldiers were searching the country round for the young +conspirators, riding hither and thither along the pleasant country lanes +and thrusting their sabres in among the blossoming hedgerows, it was +here at Dethick that they sought for Anthony Babington. They did not +find him, for he was in hiding elsewhere, but one of his companions was +actually discovered and arrested there. + +Perhaps--again, who knows?--this man may have been hiding in the secret +chamber above the trap-door. One can fancy the pursuers rushing in, +flinging open cupboards and presses, in search for their prey; and +finding no one, gathering baffled around the fireplace. Then one, +chancing to glance up, catches sight of the trap-door in the ceiling. +"Ha! lads, look up! the rascal may be hiding yonder! Up with you, you +tall fellow!" Then a piling up of benches, one man mounting on another's +shoulders--the door forced open, the young nobleman seized and +overpowered, and brought down to be carried off to London for trial. + +Anthony Babington and his companions were executed for high treason, and +Queen Mary, who was convicted of approving the plot, was put to death +soon after. + +All this Florence Nightingale and her sister knew, and they never tired +of "playing suppose" in old Dethick kitchen, and living over again in +fancy the romantic time long past. And on Sundays the two children went +with their parents to old Dethick church, and sat where Anthony +Babington used to sit, for in his days it was the private chapel of +Dethick. It is a tiny church; fifty people would fill it to +overflowing, but Florence and her sister might easily feel that the four +bare walls held all the wild history of Elizabeth's reign. + +Anthony Babington in doublet and hose, with velvet mantle, feathered +cap, and sword by his side; little Florence Nightingale in round Leghorn +hat and short petticoats. It is a long step between these two, yet they +are the two most famous people who ever said their prayers in old +Dethick church. The lad's brief and tragic story contrasts strangely +with the long and beautiful story of Florence Nightingale, a story that +has no end. + +When Florence was between five and six years old, she left Lea Hall for +a new home, Lea Hurst, about a mile distant. Here her father had built a +beautiful house in the Elizabethan style, of stone, with pointed gables, +mullioned windows and latticed panes. There was a tiny chapel on the +site he chose, hundreds of years old, and this he built into the house, +so that Lea Hurst, as well as Lea Hall and Dethick, joined hands with +the old historic times. In this little chapel, by and by, we shall see +Florence holding her Bible class. But I like still to think of her as a +little rosy girl, running about the beautiful gardens of Lea Hurst, or +playing house in the quaint old summerhouse with its pointed roof of +thatch. Perhaps she brought her dolls here; but the dolls must wait for +another chapter. + +Soon after moving to Lea Hurst, the Nightingales bought still another +country seat, Embley Park, in Hampshire, a fine old mansion built in +Queen Elizabeth's time, and at some distance from Lea Hurst. + +After this the family used to spend the summer at Lea Hurst, and the +winter at Embley. There were no railroads then in that neighborhood; the +journey was sometimes made by stagecoach, sometimes in the Nightingales' +own carriage. + +Embley Park is one of the stately homes of England, with its lofty +gables, terraces and shadowing trees; and all around it are sunny lawns, +and gardens filled with every sweet and lovely flower. + +Now you know a little of the three homes of Florence Nightingale, Lea +Hall, Lea Hurst, and Embley Park; next you shall hear what kind of child +she herself was. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +LITTLE FLORENCE. + + +All the boys, and very likely some of the girls, who have got as far as +this second chapter, will glance down the page, and exclaim: "_Dolls!_" +Then they will add whatever is their favorite expression of scorn, and +perhaps make a motion to lay the book down. + +Wait a moment, girls, and boys too! I advise you to read on, and see +what came in this case of playing with dolls. + +There were a good many thousands of boys in England at that time, in the +Twenties and Thirties, who might have been badly off when the terrible +Fifties came, if Florence Nightingale had not played with her dolls. +Read on, and see for yourselves! + +Florence Nightingale loved her dolls dearly, and took the greatest +possible care of them; and yet they were always delicate and given to +sudden and alarming illnesses. A doll never knew when she might be told +that she was very ill, and undressed and put to bed, though she might +but just have got on her new frock. Then Mamma Florence would wait upon +her tenderly, smoothing her pillow, bathing her forehead or rubbing her +poor back, and bringing her all kinds of good things in the doll-house +dishes. The doll might feel very much better the next day, and think it +was time to get up and put on the new frock again; but she was very apt +to have a relapse and go back to bed and gruel again, once at least, +before she was allowed to recover entirely. + +The truth is, Florence was born to be a nurse, and a sick doll was +dearer to her than a strong and healthy one. So I fear her dolls would +have been invalids most of the time if it had not been for Parthenope's +little family, who often required their Aunt Florence's care. These +dolls were very unlucky, or else their mamma was very careless; you can +call it whichever you like. They were always tumbling down and breaking +their heads, or losing arms and legs, or burning themselves at the +nursery fire, or suffering from doll's consumption, that dreadful +complaint otherwise known as loss of sawdust. When these things +happened, Aunt Florence was called in as a matter of course; and she set +the fractures, and salved the burns, and stopped the flow of sawdust, +and proved herself in every way a most skillful nursery surgeon and +physician. + +So it was that unconsciously, and in play, Florence began her training +for her life work. She was having lessons, of course; arithmetic, and +all the other proper things. She and Parthe had a governess, and studied +regularly, and had music and drawing lessons besides; and her father +taught her to love English literature, and later opened to her the great +doors marked _Latin_ and _Greek_. Her mother, meantime, taught her all +kinds of handiwork, and before she was twelve years old she could +hemstitch, and seam and embroider. These things were all good, and very +good; without them she could not have accomplished all she did; but in +the years that were to come all the other learning was going to help +that wonderful learning that began with nursing the sick dolls. + +Soon she was to take another step in her profession. The little fingers +grown so skillful by bandaging waxen and china arms and legs, were now +to save a living, loving creature from death. + +To every English child this story is a nursery tale. No doubt it is to +many American children also, yet it is one that no one can ever tire of +hearing, so I shall tell it again. + +Much as Florence loved dolls, she loved animals better, and in her +country homes she was surrounded by them. There was her dog, who hardly +left her side when she was out of doors; there was her own pony on which +she rode every day over dale and down; her sister's pony, too, and old +Peggy, who was too old to work, and lived in a pleasant green paddock +with nothing to do but amuse herself and crop grass all day long. +Perhaps Peggy found this tiresome, for whenever she saw Florence at the +gate she would toss her head and whinny and come trotting up to the +gate. "Good morning, Peggy!" Florence would say. "Would you like an +apple?" + +"Hooonh!" Peggy would say. (Horses have no spelling books, and there is +no exact rule as to how a whinny should be spelled. You may try any +other way that looks to you more natural.) + +"Then look for it!" Florence would reply. At this Peggy would sniff and +snuff, and hunt round with her soft velvety nose till she found +Florence's pocket, then delicately take out the apple and crunch it up, +and whinny again, the second whinny meaning at once "Thank you!" and +"More, please!" Horse language is a simple one compared to English, and +has no grammar. + +Well, one day Florence was riding her pony in company with her friend +the vicar. This good man loved all living creatures, but there were few +dearer to him than Florence Nightingale. They had the same tastes and +feelings. Both loved to help and comfort all who were "in trouble, +sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity." He had studied medicine +before he became a clergyman, and so was able to tell her many things +about the care of the sick and injured. Here was another teacher. I +suppose everyone we know could teach us something good, if we were ready +to learn. + +As I said, Florence and the vicar were riding along on the green downs; +and here I must stop again a moment to tell you what the downs are, for +when I was a child I used to wonder. They are great rounded hills, +covered with close, thick turf, like a velvet carpet. They spread in +long smooth green billows, miles and miles of them, the slopes so gentle +that it is delightful to drive or ride on them; only you must be careful +not to go near the edge, where the green breaks off suddenly, and a +white chalk cliff goes down, down, hundreds of feet, to the blue sea +tossing and tumbling below. These are the white cliffs of England that +you have so often read about. + +Am I never going on with the story? Yes; have patience! there is plenty +of time. + +There were many sheep on the downs, and there was one special flock that +Florence knew very well. It belonged to old Roger, a shepherd, who had +often worked for her father. Roger and his good dog Cap were both +friends of Florence's, and she was used to seeing them on the downs, the +sheep in a more or less orderly compact flock, Cap guarding them and +driving back any stragglers who went nibbling off toward the cliff edge. + +But to-day there seemed no order anywhere. The sheep were scattered in +twos and threes, straying hither and thither; and old Roger alone was +trying to collect them, and apparently having a hard time of it. + +The vicar saw his trouble, and rode up to him. "What is the matter, +Roger?" he asked kindly. "Where is your dog?" + +"The boys have been throwing stones at him, sir," replied the old man. +"They have broken his leg, poor beast, and he will never be good for +anything again. I shall have to take a bit of cord and put an end to his +misery." + +"Oh!" cried Florence, who had ridden up with the vicar. "Poor Cap! Are +you sure his leg is broken, Roger?" + +"Yes, Miss, it's broke sure enough. He hasn't set foot to the ground +since, and no one can't go anigh him but me. Best put him out of his +pain, I says." + +"No! no!" cried Florence. "Not till we have tried to help him. Where is +he?" + +"He's in the cottage, Missy, but you can do nothing for him, you'll +find. Poor Cap's days is over. Ah; he were a good dog. Do everything but +speak, he could, and went as near to that as a dumb beast could. I'll +never get another like him." + +While the old man lamented, Florence was looking eagerly in the face of +the clergyman. He met her look with a smile and nod. + +"We will go and see!" he said; and off they rode, leaving Roger shaking +his head and calling to the sheep. + +They soon reached the cottage. The door was fastened, and when they +tried to open it a furious barking was heard within. A little boy came +from the next cottage, bringing the key, which Roger had left there. +They entered, and there lay Cap on the brick floor, helpless and weak, +but still barking as hard as he could at what he supposed to be +intruders. When he saw Florence and the little boy he stopped barking, +and wagged his tail feebly; then he crawled from under the table where +he lay, dragged himself to Florence's feet and looked up pitifully in +her face. She knelt down by him, and soothed and petted and talked to +him, while the good clergyman examined the injured leg. It was +dreadfully swollen, and every touch was painful; but Cap knew well +enough that the hands that hurt were trying to help him, and though he +moaned and winced, he licked the hands and made no effort to draw the +leg away. + +"Is it broken?" asked Florence anxiously. "No," said the vicar. "No +bones are broken. There's no reason why Cap should not recover; all he +needs is care and nursing." + +Florence quietly laid down her riding whip and tucked up her sleeves. +"What shall I do first?" she said. + +"Well," said the vicar, "I think a hot compress is the thing." Florence +looked puzzled; the dolls had never had hot compresses. "What is it?" +she asked. + +"Just a cloth wrung out in boiling water and laid on, changing it as it +cools. Very simple, you see, Nurse Florence! The first thing is to light +the fire." + +That was soon done, with the aid of the boy, who hovered about, +interested, but ignorant of surgery. On went the kettle, and soon it was +boiling merrily; but where were the cloths for the compresses? Florence +looked all about the room, but could see nothing save Roger's clean +smock frock which hung against the door. + +"This will do!" she cried. "Mamma will give him another." + +The vicar nodded approval. Quickly she tore the frock into strips of +suitable width and length; bade the boy fill a basin from the kettle, +and then kneeling down beside the wounded dog, Florence Nightingale for +the first time gave "first aid to the wounded." + +As the heat drew out the inflammation and pain, Cap looked up at the +little helper, all his simple dog heart shining in his eyes; the look +sank into the child's heart and deepened the tenderness already there. +Another step, and a great one, was taken on the blessed road she was to +travel. + +Florence came again the next day to bandage the leg; Cap got entirely +well, and tended sheep for many a year after that; and old Roger was +very grateful, and Mrs. Nightingale gave him a new smock frock, and +everyone was happy; and that is the end of the story. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE SQUIRE'S DAUGHTER. + + +It soon became a recognized thing in Florence's own home and in all the +neighborhood, that she was one of the Sisters of Mercy. Nothing was too +small, no creature too humble to awaken her sympathy and tenderness. +When the stable cat had kittens, Florence was the first to visit them, +to fondle the tiny creatures and soothe their mother's angry fear. When +she walked along the pleasant wood roads of Lea Hurst, the squirrels +expected nuts as a matter of course, and could hardly wait for her to +give them. When anyone in the village or farm fell ill, it was Florence +who was looked for to cheer and comfort. Mrs. Nightingale was a most +kind and charitable lady, and delighted in sending delicacies to the +sick. It was Florence's happy privilege to carry them, and whether she +walked or rode there was apt to be a basket on her arm or fastened to +her saddlebow. + +If you think hard, you can see--at least I can--just how it would be. +Old Goody Brown's rheumatism, let us say, was very bad one morning. You +children who read this know little about rheumatism. Very likely you +think it rather a funny word, and that it is just a thing that old +people have, and that they make a good deal of fuss about. If it were a +toothache, now, you say, or colic--but the truth is, no pain is in any +way pleasant. If a red-hot sword were run into your back you would not +like it? Well, sometimes rheumatism is like that. + +So old Goody Brown was suffering, and very cross, just as we might be; +and nothing suited her, poor old soul; her tea was too hot, and her +porridge too cold, and her pillow set askew, and--dear! dear! dear! she +wished she was dead, so she did. Martha, her good patient daughter, was +at her wits' ends. + +"Send to the 'All'!" said poor old Goody. "Send for Miss Florence! +She'll do something for me, I know." + +So a barefoot boy would trudge up to the great house, and very soon a +light, slight figure would come quickly along the village street and +enter the cottage. A slender girl, quietly dressed, with perfect +neatness and taste; brown hair smoothly parted, shining like satin; +gray-blue eyes full of light and thoughtfulness; regular features, an +oval face, cheeks faintly tinted with rose--this was Florence +Nightingale. + +I cannot tell you just what she had in the little basket on her arm, +whether jelly or broth or chicken or oranges; there was sure to be +something good beside the liniment and medicines to help the aching back +and limbs. But the basket held the least of what she brought. At the +very sound of her voice the fretful lines melted away from the poor old +face. I cannot tell you--I wish I could--the words she said, this little +Sister of Mercy, yet I can almost hear her speak, in that sweet, cordial +voice whose range held no harsh note; can see her setting the pillow +straight and smooth, making the little tray dainty and pretty with the +posy she had brought, coaxing the old woman to eat, making her laugh +over some story of her pets and their droll ways. Perhaps before leaving +she would open the worn Bible or prayer book, and read a psalm; can you +not see her sitting by the bedside, her pretty head bent over the book, +her face full of tenderness and reverence? I am sure that when she went +away there was peace and comfort in that cottage room, and that +heartfelt blessings followed the "Angel Child" as she went on her +homeward way. "She had a way with her," they said; and that meant more +than volumes of praise. + +The flowers that Florence used to carry were from her own garden, I like +to think. Both at Lea Hurst and Embley, she and her sister had each her +own little garden and gardening tools. Florence was a good gardener; +indeed, I think she was a good everything that she tried to be, just +because she tried. She dug, and sowed, and watered, pruned and tied up +and did all the things a garden needs; and so her garden was full of +flowers all summer long, giving delight to her and to every sick or +lonely or sorrowful person for miles around. + +As Florence and her sister grew older they became more and more helpful +to their parents in the good works that they both loved to carry on. I +have read a delightful account of the "feast day" of the village +school-children, as it used to be given at Lea Hurst when Florence was a +girl. + +The children gathered together at the school-house, all in their best +frocks and pinafores, and walked in procession up the street and through +the fields to Lea Hurst. Each child carried a posy and a stick wreathed +with flowers, and at the head of the procession marched a band of music, +provided by the good squire. In the field below the garden tables were +set, and here Mrs. Nightingale and her daughters, aided by the servants, +served tea and buns and cakes, waiting on their little guests, and +seeing that every child got all he wanted--or at least all that was good +for him. Then when all had eaten and drunk their fill, the band struck +up, and the boys and girls danced on the green to their hearts' content. + +What did they dance? Polkas, perhaps, and the redowa, a pretty round +dance with a good deal of stamping in it; and of course Sir Roger de +Coverley, which is very like our Virginia Reel. (If you do not know +about Sir Roger de Coverley himself, ask papa to tell you or read you +about him, for he is one of the pleasantest persons you will ever +know.) + +Perhaps they sang, too; perhaps they sang the pretty old Maypole Song. +Do you know it? + + Come lasses and lads, get leave of your dads, + And away to the Maypole hie, + For ev'ry fair has a sweetheart there, + And the fiddler's standing by. + For Willy shall dance with Jane, + And Johnny has got his Joan, + To trip it, trip it, trip it, trip it, + Trip it up and down. + + "You're out!" says Dick, "not I," says Nick, + "'Twas the fiddler play'd it wrong." + "'Tis true," says Hugh, and so says Sue, + And so says ev'ry one; + The fiddler then began + To play the tune again, + And ev'ry girl did trip it, trip it, + Trip it to the men. + +Then when feast and dance and song were all over, it was time to reform +the procession and take up the homeward march. The two sisters, Florence +and Parthe, had disappeared during the dancing; but now, as the +procession passed along the terrace, there they were, standing behind a +long table; a table at sight of which the children's eyes grew round and +bright, for it was covered from end to end with presents. Such +delightful presents! Books, and pretty boxes and baskets, thimble-cases +and needle-books and pin-cushions; dolls, too, I am sure, for the little +ones, and scrap-books, and--but you can fill up the list for yourself +with everything you like best in the way of pretty, simple, useful +gifts. I am quite sure that Florence would not have wished to give the +children foolish or elaborate gimcracks, and that Mr. Nightingale would +never have allowed it if she had; and I think it probable that many of +the gifts were made by the two sisters and their kind and clever mother. + +All about Lea Hurst, in many and many a pleasant cottage home, those +little gifts are treasured to-day like the relics of some blessed saint; +which indeed is just what they are. The saint is still living, and some +of the children of the school feasts are living, too, and now in their +age will show with pride and joy the gifts they received long ago from +the hands of the beloved Miss Florence. + +As Florence grew up to womanhood she found more and more work to do. +There were mills and factories in the neighborhood of Lea Hurst; and in +the hosiery mills, especially, hundreds of women and girls were +employed, many of whom lived on the Nightingale estate. + +She may have been seventeen or eighteen when she started her Bible class +for the young women of the district, holding it in the tiny ancient +chapel at Lea Hurst which I described in the first chapter. Gathering +the girls around her, she would read a chapter from the Bible, and then +give them her thoughts about it, and explain the difficult passages; +then they would all sing together, her sweet, clear voice leading the +hymns. Here is another memory very precious to the old women who were +once those happy girls. They love to tell "how beautifully Miss Florence +used to talk." + +Long years after, when Miss Nightingale, spent with her noble labors, +would come to Lea Hurst for a time of rest and refreshment, the +daughters of these girls counted it a high privilege to gather on the +lawn under her window and sing to her as she sat in the room above; and +would go home proud and happy as queens if they had seen the saintly +face smiling from the window. + +Shall I try to show you Florence Nightingale at seventeen? Her face was +little changed from that of the girl we saw in the cottage, cheering old +Goody Brown. She still wore her hair brushed smoothly "Madonna-wise" on +either side her face; often, now, she wore a rose at the side, tucked in +among the shining braids or coils. You would think her frocks very queer +if you saw them to-day, but then they were extremely pretty; full skirts +(no crinoline! that was to come later) and full sleeves, with broad flat +collar of lace or embroidery. When she went to church or to make visits +she wore a spencer, a kind of full plaited jacket with a belt, something +like a Norfolk jacket--only different! and a Leghorn bonnet. You have +seen pictures of the Leghorn bonnets of the Thirties and Forties; +"coal-scuttles," some people called them, and they were something the +shape of a scuttle. Some of them were enormous in size, and they look +queer enough now in the pictures, or--if your grandmamma had a way of +keeping things--in the "dress-up" trunk or cupboard in the attic. But +people who were young in those days tell me that they were extremely +becoming, and that a pretty face never looked prettier that when it +peeped out from the depths of a huge straw "coal-scuttle." + +When Florence rode on horseback, her habit was so long that it nearly +touched the ground (that is, if she followed the fashion of the day, but +I should not wonder a bit if she and her mother were too sensible!) and +she wore a round, broad-brimmed hat with long ostrich plumes. I remember +a picture of the Princess Royal (afterwards Empress Frederick of +Germany), in a costume like this, which I thought one of the most +beautiful things I ever saw, so I shall imagine Florence, on an +afternoon ride with the squire, let us say, dressed in this way; but +when scampering about on her pony, I trust, she wore a less cumbrous +costume. + +You will remember that the Nightingales spent the winter at Embley Park, +in Hampshire. Here, too, Florence was busy in good and helpful work. At +Christmas time she found her best pleasure in giving presents to young +and old among the poor people about her, in getting up entertainments +for the children, training them to sing, arranging treats for the old +people in the poorhouse. On Christmas Eve the village carol singers +would come and sing on the lawn; old English carols, that had been sung +by generation after generation. Poor Anthony Babington over at Lea Hall +may have listened on Christmas Eve to the same sweet old songs. + + As Joseph was a-walking, + He heard an angel sing, + "This night shall be the birthnight + Of Christ our heavenly King. + + "His birth-bed shall be neither + In housen nor in hall, + Nor in the place of paradise, + But in the oxen's stall. + + "He neither shall be rockèd + In silver nor in gold, + But in the wooden manger + That lieth in the mold. + + "He neither shall be washen + With white wine nor with red, + But with the fair spring water + That on you shall be shed. + + "He neither shall be clothèd + In purple nor in pall, + But in the fair white linen + That usen babies all." + + As Joseph was a-walking, + Thus did the angel sing, + And Mary's son at midnight + Was born to be our King. + + Then be you glad, good people, + At this time of the year; + And light you up your candles, + For His star it shineth clear. + +Then who so glad as Florence to call the singers in and bid them welcome +and "Merry Christmas!" and aid in distributing the mince pies and silver +coins which were always their due. + +When Florence was fairly "grown up," other things came into her life, +the gay and merry things that come to so many girls. Mr. Nightingale was +a man of wealth and position, and liked his wife and daughters to have +their share in the gayeties of the county. So there were many parties, +at Embley and elsewhere, and Florence danced as gayly, I doubt not, as +the other girls. She went to London, too, and she and her sister were +presented to Queen Victoria, and had their share of the brilliant +society of the time. + +But much as she may have enjoyed all this for a time, still her heart +was not in it, and she soon tired, I fancy, of dancing and dressing and +visiting. Already her mind was turning to other things, already her +clear eyes were looking forward to other ways of life, other methods of +work. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +LOOKING OUT. + + +Step by step, and all unconsciously, Florence Nightingale had been +training her hand and eye to follow the dictates of her keen mind and +loving heart. Now, grown a young woman, she began to think seriously how +she should apply this training. What should she do with her life? Should +she go on like her friends, in the quiet pleasant ways of country life? +The squire's daughter was busy enough, surely. Every hour of the day was +full of useful, kindly work, of happy, healthy play; should she be +content with this? Her heart told her that she was not content. In her +friendly visiting among the sick poor she had seen much misery and +suffering, far more than she and all the other kindly ladies could +attempt to relieve. She felt that something more was needed; she began +to look around to see what was being done in the larger world. + +It was about this time that she met Elizabeth Fry, the noble and +beautiful friend of the prisoner. Mrs. Fry was then an elderly woman, +with all the glory of her saintly life shining about her; Florence +Nightingale an earnest and thoughtful girl of perhaps eighteen or +twenty. It is pleasant to think of that meeting. I do not know what +words passed between them, but I can almost see them together, the +beautiful stately woman in her Quaker dress, the slender girl with her +quiet face and earnest eyes; can almost hear the young voice, +questioning, eager and ardent; the elder answering, grave and sedate, +words full of weight and wisdom, of sweetness and tenderness. This +interview was one of the great moments of Florence Nightingale's early +life. + +A little later than this, in 1843, she met another person whose words +and counsel impressed her deeply; and of this meeting I can give you a +clearer account, for that person was my own dear father, Dr. Samuel G. +Howe. Some ten years before this my father had decided to devote his +life to helping people who needed help. He had established a school for +the blind in Boston; he had brought Laura Bridgman, the blind, deaf +mute, out of her loneliness and taught her to read, write, and talk +with her fingers; the first time this had ever been done with a person +so afflicted. He had labored to help the prisoners and captives in the +North, and the slaves in the South; in short he was what is called a +_philanthropist_, that is, one who loves his fellow-men and tries to +help them. + +My father and mother were traveling in England soon after their +marriage, and were invited by Mr. and Mrs. Nightingale to spend a few +days at Embley Park. One morning Miss Nightingale (for so I must call +her now that she is a woman) met my father in the garden and said to +him: + +"Dr. Howe, you have had much experience in the world of philanthropy; +you are a medical man and a gentleman; now may I ask you to tell me, +upon your word, whether it would be anything unsuitable or unbecoming to +a young Englishwoman, if she should devote herself to works of charity, +in hospitals and elsewhere, as the Catholic Sisters do?" + +My father replied: "My dear Miss Florence, it would be unusual, and in +England whatever is unusual is apt to be thought unsuitable; but I say +to you, go forward, if you have a vocation for that way of life; act up +to your aspiration, and you will find that there is never anything +unbecoming or unladylike in doing your duty for the good of others. +Choose your path, go on with it, wherever it may lead you, and God be +with you!" + +It was in this spirit that Miss Nightingale now began to train herself +for her life work. + +It is hard for you children of to-day to imagine what nursing was in the +early part of the nineteenth century. To you a nurse means a trim, +alert, cheerful person in spotless raiment, who knows just what to do +when you are ill, and does it in the pleasantest possible manner; you +are glad when she comes into the room, sorry when she leaves. But this +pleasant person did not exist in those days, except in the guise of a +Catholic Sister of Charity. The other nurses were for the most part +coarse and ignorant women, often cruel, often intemperate. When you read +"Martin Chuzzlewit" you will find out more about them than I can tell +you. But "Martin Chuzzlewit" was not written when Miss Nightingale +determined to find out the condition of nursing in England and on the +Continent. She first spent some months in the London hospitals, and +then visited those in Scotland and Ireland. She was horrified at what +she found there; dirt and misery and needless suffering among the +patients, drunkenness and ignorance and brutality among the nurses. Then +she turned to the Continent and found a very different state of things. +The hospitals were clean and cheerful, and the Sisters of Mercy in their +white caps and aprons were as good and kind and capable as our trained +nurses to-day. + +Up to this time these good sisters had been the only trained nurses in +Europe; but in Germany Miss Nightingale found a Protestant sisterhood +which was working along the same lines, and in a more enlightened and +modern way; these were the Deaconesses of Kaiserswerth, the pupils of +Pastor Fliedner. + +This good man--one of the best men, surely, that ever lived--was the son +of a Lutheran minister. His father was poor, and Theodore had to work +his way through college, but this he did cheerfully, for he loved work. +He studied very hard and also gave lessons, sawed wood, blacked boots, +and did other odd jobs. When his clothes began to wear out he sewed up +the holes with white thread, all he had, and then inked it over. He +loved children, and on the long tramps he used to take in vacation time +he was always collecting songs and games, and teaching them to the +children. + +When he was twenty-two years old Theodore Fliedner became pastor of a +small Protestant parish at Kaiserswerth on the Rhine. The people were so +poor that they could do little either for their church or themselves, so +the young pastor set out on foot to seek aid from other Christian +people. He traveled in Germany, Holland and England, and everywhere +people felt his goodness and gave him help. In London he met Elizabeth +Fry, and the noble work she was doing among the prisoners at Newgate +made a deep impression on him. He determined to do something to help the +prisoners in Germany, especially the poor women, who, after being +imprisoned for a certain time, were cast upon the world with no +possession save an ill name. + +In his little garden stood an old summerhouse, partly ruinous, but with +strong walls. With his own hands the good pastor mended the roof and +made the place clean and habitable. He put in a bed, a table and a +chair, and then prayed that God would send to this shelter some poor +soul who needed it. + +One night a homeless outcast woman came to the door, and the pastor and +his wife bade her welcome, and took her to the clean pleasant room that +was all ready. + +In this humble way opened the now famous institution of Kaiserswerth. +Other poor women soon found out the friendly shelter; in a short time a +new and larger building was needed, and more helping hands beside those +of the good pastor and his devoted wife. The good work grew and grew; +some of the poor women had children, and so a school was started; the +school must have good teachers, and so a training school for teachers +was opened. + +But most of all Pastor Fliedner wished to help the condition of the sick +poor; three years after the first opening of the summerhouse shelter in +the garden he founded the Deaconess Hospital. We are told that it was +opened "practically without patients and without deaconesses." He +obtained the use of part of a deserted factory, and begged from his +neighbors old furniture and broken crockery, which he mended carefully, +and put in the big empty rooms. He had only six sheets, but there was +plenty of water to wash them, and when the first patient, a poor +suffering servant maid, came to the door, she was made comfortable in a +spotless bed, in a clean though bare room. + +I wish I could tell you the whole beautiful story, but it would take too +long. By the end of the year there were sixty patients in the hospital, +and seven deaconess nurses to care for them. To-day there is a deaconess +hospital or home in almost every town in Germany, and thousands upon +thousands of sick and poor people bless the deaconesses, though they may +never have heard the name of Pastor Fliedner. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +WAITING FOR THE CALL. + + +Miss Nightingale spent two periods of training at Kaiserswerth. When she +left it finally, good Pastor Fliedner laid his hands on her head and +gave her his blessing in simple and earnest words; and she carried with +her the love and good wishes of all the pious and benevolent community. + +I wish we had a picture of her in her deaconess costume. The blue cotton +gown, white apron and wide collar, and white muslin cap tied under the +chin with a large bow, must have set off her pensive beauty very +sweetly. She always kept a tender recollection of Kaiserswerth, and says +in a letter: "Never have I met with a higher love and a purer devotion +than there." + +On her way home, Miss Nightingale spent some time with the Sisters of +St. Vincent de Paul in Paris. Here she saw what was probably the best +nursing in the world at that time; and she studied the methods in her +usual careful way, not only in the hospitals, but in the homes of the +poor and suffering, where the good sisters came and went like +ministering angels. She had still another opportunity, and this an +unsought one, of learning what they had to teach, for she fell ill +herself, and was tenderly cared for and restored to health by these +skillful and devoted women. + +Returning to England, she spent some time in the quiet of home, and as +her strength returned, took up her old work of visiting among the sick +and poor of the neighborhood. But this could not keep her long. It was +not that she did not love it, and did not love her home dearly, but +there were other benevolent ladies who could do this work. She realized +this, and realized too, though perhaps unconsciously, that she could do +harder work than this, and that there was plenty of hard work waiting to +be done. She soon found it. A call came asking her to be superintendent +of a Home for Sick Governesses in London, and she accepted it at once. + +Did you ever think how hard governesses have to work? Did you ever think +how tired they must often be, and how their heads must ache--and +perhaps their hearts, too--when they are trying to teach you the lessons +that you--perhaps again--are not always willing to learn? Well, try to +remember, those of you who have your lessons in this way! Remember that +you can make the teaching a pain or a pleasure, just as you choose; and +that, after all, the teacher is trying to help you, and to give you +knowledge that some day you would be very sorry not to have. + +In the days of which we are speaking, governesses had a much harder time +than nowadays, I think. For one thing, there were not so many different +ways in which women could earn their bread. When a girl had to make her +own living she went out as a governess almost as a matter of course, +whether she had any love for teaching or not, simply because there was +nothing else to do. So the teaching was often mere drudgery, and often, +too, was not well done; and that meant discontent and unhappiness, and +very likely broken health to follow. + +The Harley Street Home, as it was then called, was founded to help poor +gentlewomen who had lost their health in this kind of life. When Miss +Nightingale came to it, things were in a bad condition, owing to lack +of means and good management. The friends of the institution were +discouraged; but discouragement, was a word not to be found in Miss +Nightingale's dictionary. There was no money? Well, there must _be_ +money! She went quietly to work, interested her own friends to +subscribe, then talked with the discouraged people, restoring their +confidence and inducing them to renew their subscriptions; and soon, +with no fuss or flourish of trumpets, the money was in hand. + +Then she proceeded, just as quietly, to reorganize the whole +institution; engaged competent nurses, arranged the daily life of the +inmates, planned and wrote and worked, every day and all day, till she +had brought order out of chaos, and made the home, instead of a place of +disorder and discontent, one of comfort, peace, and cheerfulness. + +You must not think that this was light or pleasant work. Sick and +nervous and broken-down women are not easy to deal with; a hospital (for +this is what the home really was) is not an easy thing to organize and +superintend. It meant, as I have said, hard and vexatious work every day +and all day; and I dare say that often and often, when night came, +Florence Nightingale lay down to rest more weary than any of her +patients. + +At length her health gave way under the strain; she broke down, and was +forced to give up the work and go home to Embley for a long rest. + +It was here, in her own home, amid her own beautiful fields and gardens, +that the call came which summoned her to the great work of her life. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE TRUMPET CALL. + + Willie, fold your little hands;[1] + Let it drop--that "soldier" toy; + Look where father's picture stands-- + Father, that here kissed his boy + Not a month since--father kind, + Who this night may--(never mind + Mother's sob, my Willie dear) + Cry out loud that He may hear + Who is God of battles--cry, + "God keep father safe this day + By the Alma River!" + + Ask no more, child. Never heed + Either Russ, or Frank, or Turk; + Right of nations, trampled creed, + Chance-poised victory's bloody work; + Any flag i' the wind may roll + On thy heights, Sevastopol! + Willie, all to you and me + Is that spot, whate'er it be, + Where he stands--no other word-- + _Stands_--God sure the child's prayers heard-- + Near the Alma River. + + Willie, listen to the bells + Ringing in the town to-day; + That's for victory. No knell swells + For the many swept away-- + Hundreds, thousands. Let us weep, + We, who need not--just to keep + Reason clear in thought and brain + Till the morning comes again; + Till the third dread morning tell + Who they were that fought and--_fell_ + By the Alma River. + + Come, we'll lay us down, my child; + Poor the bed is--poor and hard; + But thy father, far exiled, + Sleeps upon the open sward, + Dreaming of us two at home; + Or, beneath the starry dome, + Digs out trenches in the dark, + Where he buries--Willie, mark! + Where _he buries_ those who died + Fighting--fighting at his side-- + By the Alma River. + + Willie, Willie, go to sleep; + God will help us, O my boy! + He will make the dull hours creep + Faster, and send news of joy; + When I need not shrink to meet + Those great placards in the street, + That for weeks will ghastly stare + In some eyes--child, say that prayer + Once again--a different one-- + Say "O God! Thy will be done, + By the Alma River." + + +Open your atlas at the map of Russia. Look down toward the bottom, at +that part of the great empire which borders on the Euxine or Black Sea; +there you will find a small peninsula--it is really almost an island, +being surrounded on three sides by water--labeled "_Crimea_." It is only +a part of one of the smallest of Russia's forty-odd provinces, the +province of Taurida; yet it is one of the famous places of history, for +here, in the years 1854 and 1855, was fought the Crimean War, one of the +greatest wars of modern times. + +Russia and Turkey have never been good neighbors. They have always been +jealous of each other, always quarreling about this or that, the fact +being that each is afraid of the other's getting too much land and too +much power. In these disputes the other countries of Europe have +generally sympathized with Turkey, feeling that Russia had quite enough +power, and that if she had more it might be dangerous for all of them. +Some day you will read in history about the Eastern Question and the +Balance of Power, and will find out just what these meant in the +Fifties; but this is all that you need know now, in order to understand +what I am going to tell you. + +In 1854 Turkey, feeling that Russia was pressing too hard upon her, +called upon the other European powers to help her. The result was that +England, France, Sardinia (now a part of Italy, but then a separate +kingdom), and Turkey made an agreement with one another, and all +together declared war upon Russia. + +England had been at peace with all the world for forty years, ever since +the wars of Napoleon, which were closed by the great victory of +Waterloo. The English are a brave race; they had forgotten the horrors +of war, and remembered only its glories and its victories; and they +sprang to arms as joyously as boys run to a football game. "Sharpen your +cutlasses, and the day is ours!" said Sir Charles Napier to his men, +just before the British fleet sailed; and this was the feeling all +through the country. + +The fleets of the allied powers gathered in the Black Sea, forming one +great armada; surrounded the peninsula of the Crimea, and landed their +armies. In September, 1854, was fought the first great battle, by the +Alma River. The allies were victorious, and a great shout of joy went up +all over England. "Victory! victory!" cried old and young. There were +bells and bonfires and illuminations; the whole country went mad with +joy, and for a short time no one thought of anything except glory, +waving banners and sounding trumpets. But banners and trumpets, though a +real part of war, are only a very small part. After a little time, +through the shouting and rejoicing a different sound was heard; the +sound of weeping and lamentation, not only for the hundreds of brave men +who were lying dead beside the fatal river, but for the other hundreds +of sick and wounded soldiers, dying for want of care. + +There had been gross neglect and terrible mismanagement in the carrying +on of the war. Nobody knew just whose fault it was, but everything +seemed to be lacking that was most needed on that desolate shore of the +Crimea. The English troops were in an enemy's country, and a poor +country at that; whatever supplies there were had been taken by the +Russian armies for their own needs. Food and clothing had been sent out +from England in great quantities, but somehow, no one could find them. +Some supplies had been stowed in the hold of vessels, and other things +piled on top so that they could not be got at; some were stored in +warehouses which no one had authority to open; some were actually +rotting at the wharves, for want of precise orders as to their disposal. +The surgeons had no bandages, the doctors no medicines; it was a state +of things that to-day we can hardly imagine. Indeed, it seemed as if the +need were so great and terrible that it paralyzed those who saw it. + +"It is now pouring rain," wrote William Howard Russell to the London +_Times_, "the skies are black as ink, the wind is howling over the +staggering tents, the trenches are turned into dykes; in the tents the +water is sometimes a foot deep; our men have not either warm or +waterproof clothing; they are out for twelve hours at a time in the +trenches; they are plunged into the inevitable miseries of a winter +campaign--and not a soul seems to care for their comfort, or even for +their lives. These are hard truths, but the people of England must hear +them. They must know that the wretched beggar who wanders about the +streets of London in the rain, leads the life of a prince compared with +the British soldiers who are fighting out here for their country. + + * * * * * + +"The commonest accessories of a hospital are wanting; there is not the +least attention paid to decency or clean linen; the stench is appalling; +the fetid air can hardly struggle out to taint the atmosphere, save +through the chinks in the walls and roofs; and for all I can observe, +these men die without the least effort being made to save them. There +they lie, just as they were let gently down on the ground by the poor +fellows, their comrades, who brought them on their backs from the camp +with the greatest tenderness, but who are not allowed to remain with +them. The sick appear to be tended by the sick, and the dying by the +dying." + +He added that the snow was three feet deep on a level, and the cold so +intense that many soldiers were frozen in their tents. + +No one meant to be cruel or neglectful; but there were not half enough +doctors, and--think of it, children! there were _no nurses_. + +How did this happen? Well, when the war broke out the military +authorities did not want female nurses. The matter was talked over, and +it was decided that things would go better without them. This was put on +the ground that the class of nurses, as I have told you, was at that +time in England a very poor one. They were often drunken, generally +unfeeling, and always ignorant. The War Department decided that this +kind of nurse would do more harm than good; they did not realize that +"The old order changeth, yielding place to new," and that the time was +come when the new nurse must replace the old. + +But now the need was come, immediate and terrible, and there was no one +to meet it. When the people of England realized this; when they learned +that the hospital at Scutari was filled with sick and wounded and dying +men, and no one to care for them save a few male orderlies, wholly +untrained for the task; when they heard that in the hospitals of the +French army the Sisters of Mercy were doing their blessed work, tending +the wounded, healing the sick and comforting the dying, and realized +that the English soldiers, their own sons, brothers and husbands, had no +such help and no such comfort, the sound of bell and trumpet was lost in +a great cry of anger and sorrow that went up from the whole country. + +And matters grew worse and worse, as one great battle after another sent +its dreadful fruits to the already overflowing hospital at Scutari. On +October 25th came Balaklava; on November 5th, Inkerman. + +You have all read "The Charge of the Light Brigade"; yet I ask you to +read it again here, so that it may fit into its place in the story of +this terrible war. Remember, it is only one incident of that great +battle of Balaklava, in which both sides claimed the victory, while +neither gained any signal advantage. + + Half a league, half a league,[2] + Half a league onward, + All in the valley of Death + Rode the six hundred. + "Forward, the Light Brigade! + Charge for the guns!" he said; + Into the valley of Death + Rode the six hundred. + + "Forward, the Light Brigade!" + Was there a man dismayed? + Not though the soldier knew + Someone had blundered; + Theirs not to make reply, + Theirs not to reason why, + Theirs but to do and die: + Into the valley of Death + Rode the six hundred. + + Cannon to right of them, + Cannon to left of them, + Cannon in front of them + Volleyed and thundered. + Stormed at with shot and shell, + Boldly they rode and well; + Into the jaws of Death, + Into the mouth of Hell, + Rode the six hundred. + + Flashed all their sabres bare, + Flashed as they turned in air, + Sabring the gunners there, + Charging an army, while + All the world wondered; + Plunged in the battery-smoke, + Right through the line they broke. + Cossack and Russian + Reeled from the sabre-stroke, + Shattered and sundered. + Then they rode back, but not-- + Not the six hundred. + + Cannon to right of them, + Cannon to left of them, + Cannon behind them + Volleyed and thundered: + Stormed at with shot and shell, + While horse and hero fell, + They that had fought so well + Came through the jaws of Death + Back from the mouth of Hell-- + All that was left of them, + Left of six hundred. + + When can their glory fade? + O the wild charge they made! + All the world wondered. + Honor the charge they made! + Honor the Light Brigade, + Noble six hundred! + + +I have already spoken of William Howard Russell. He was the war +correspondent of the _Times_, the great English newspaper, and a man of +intelligence, heart and feeling. He was on the spot, and saw the horrors +of the war at first-hand. His heart was filled with sorrow and pity for +the suffering around him, and with indignation that so little was done +to relieve it; and he wrote day after day home to England, telling what +he saw and what was needed. Soon after Balaklava he wrote: + +"Are there no devoted women amongst us, able and willing to go forth to +minister to the sick and suffering soldiers of the East in the hospitals +at Scutari? Are there none of the daughters of England, at this extreme +hour of need, ready for such a work of mercy? France has sent forth her +Sisters of Mercy unsparingly, and they are even now by the bedsides of +the wounded and the dying, giving what woman's hand alone can give of +comfort and relief. Must we fall so far below the French in +self-sacrifice and devotedness, in a work which Christ so signally +blesses as done unto Himself? 'I was sick and ye visited me.'" + +This was the trumpet call that rang in the ears of the women of England, +sounding a clearer note than all the clarions of victory. We shall see +how it was answered. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE RESPONSE. + + +Mr. Sidney Herbert (afterwards Lord Herbert of Lea) was at this time at +the head of the War Department in England. He was a man of noble nature +and tender heart, whose whole life was spent in doing good, and in +helping those who needed help. He heard with deep distress the dreadful +tidings of suffering that came from the Crimea, and his heart responded +instantly to the call for help. Yes, the women of England must rise up +and go to that far, desolate land to tend and nurse the sick and wounded +and dying; but who should lead them? What one woman had the strength, +the power, the wisdom, the tenderness, to meet and overcome the terrible +conditions? Asking himself this question, Mr. Herbert answered without a +moment's hesitation: "Florence Nightingale!" + +He knew Miss Nightingale well; she was a dear friend of himself and his +beautiful wife, and had again and again given them help and counsel in +planning and managing their many charities, hospitals, homes for sick +children, and so forth. He knew that she possessed all the qualities +needed for this work, and he wrote to her, asking if she would undertake +it. Would she, he asked, go out to Scutari, taking with her a band of +nurses who would be under her orders, and take charge of the hospital +nursing? + +He did not make light of the task. + +"The selection of the rank and file of nurses would be difficult--no one +knows that better than yourself. The difficulty of finding women equal +to a task after all full of horror, and requiring, besides intelligence +and goodwill, great knowledge and great courage will be great; the task +of ruling them and introducing system among them great, and not the +least will be the difficulty of making the whole work smoothly with the +medical and military authorities out there. This it is which makes it so +important that the experiment should be carried out by one with +administrative capacity and experience." + +He went on to assure Miss Nightingale that she should have full power +and authority, and told her frankly that in his opinion she was the one +woman in England who was capable of performing this great task. + +"I must not conceal from you that upon your decision will depend the +ultimate success or failure of the plan.... If this succeeds, an +enormous amount of good will be done now, and to persons deserving +everything at our hands; and which will multiply the good to all time." + +It was a noble letter, this of Mr. Herbert's, but he might have spared +himself the trouble of writing it. Florence Nightingale, in her quiet +country home, had heard the call to the women of England; and even while +Mr. Herbert was composing his letter to her, she was writing to him, a +brief note, simply offering her services in the hospitals at Scutari. +Her letter crossed his on the way; and the next day it was proclaimed +from the War Office that Miss Nightingale, "a lady with greater +practical experience of hospital administration and treatment than any +other lady in the country," had been appointed by Government to the +office of Superintendent of Nurses at Scutari, and had undertaken the +work of organizing and taking out nurses thither. + +Great was the amazement in England. Nothing of this kind had ever been +heard of before. "Who is Miss Nightingale?" people cried all over the +country. They were answered by the newspapers. First the _Examiner_ and +then the _Times_ told them that Miss Nightingale was "a young lady of +singular endowments both natural and acquired. In a knowledge of the +ancient languages and of the higher branches of mathematics, in general +art, science, and literature, her attainments are extraordinary. There +is scarcely a modern language which she does not understand, and she +speaks French, German and Italian as fluently as her native English. She +has visited and studied all the various nations of Europe, and has +ascended the Nile to its remotest cataract. Young (about the age of our +Queen), graceful, feminine, rich, popular, she holds a singularly gentle +and persuasive influence over all with whom she comes in contact. Her +friends and acquaintances are of all classes and persuasions, but her +happiest place is at home, in the centre of a very large band of +accomplished relatives, and in simplest obedience to her admiring +parents." + +One who knew our heroine well wrote in a more personal vein: + +"Miss Nightingale is one of those whom God forms for great ends. You +cannot hear her say a few sentences--no, not even look at her, without +feeling that she is an extraordinary being. Simple, intellectual, sweet, +full of love and benevolence, she is a fascinating and perfect woman. +She is tall and pale. Her face is exceedingly lovely; but better than +all is the soul's glory that shines through every feature so exultingly. +Nothing can be sweeter than her smile. It is like a sunny day in +summer." + +Though well known among a large circle of earnest and high-minded +persons, Miss Nightingale's name was entirely new to the English people +as a whole, and--everything else apart--they were delighted with its +beauty. Had she been plain Mary Smith, she would have done just as good +work, but it would have been far harder for her to start it. Florence +Nightingale was a name to conjure with, as the saying is, and it echoed +far and wide. Everybody who could write verses (and many who could not), +began instantly to write about nightingales. _Punch_ printed a cartoon +showing a hospital ward, with the "ladybirds" hovering about the cots +of the sick men, each bird having a nurse's head. Another picture +represented one of the bird-nurses flying through the air, carrying in +her claws a jug labeled "Fomentation, Embrocation, Gruel." This was +called "The Jug of the Nightingale," for many people think that some of +the bird's beautiful, liquid notes sound like "jug, jug, jug!" + +Not content with pictures, _Punch_ printed "The Nightingale's Song to +the Sick Soldier," which became very popular, and was constantly quoted +in those days. + + Listen, soldier, to the tale of the tender nightingale, + 'Tis a charm that soon will ease your wounds so cruel, + Singing medicine for your pain, in a sympathetic strain, + With a jug, jug, jug of lemonade or gruel. + + Singing bandages and lint; salve and cerate without stint, + Singing plenty both of liniment and lotion, + And your mixtures pushed about, and the pills for you served out + With alacrity and promptitude of motion. + + Singing light and gentle hands, and a nurse who understands + How to manage every sort of application, + From a poultice to a leech; whom you haven't got to teach + The way to make a poppy fomentation. + + Singing pillow for you, smoothed; smart and ache and anguish soothed, + By the readiness of feminine invention; + Singing fever's thirst allayed, and the bed you've tumbled made + With a cheerful and considerate attention. + + Singing succour to the brave, and a rescue from the grave, + Hear the nightingale that's come to the Crimea; + 'Tis a nightingale as strong in her heart as in her song, + To carry out so gallant an idea. + +Of course there were some people who shook their heads; there always are +when any new work is undertaken. Some thought it was improper for women +to nurse in a military hospital; others thought they would be useless, +or worse; others again thought that the nurses would ruin their own +health and be sent home in a month to the hospitals of England. There +were still other objections, which were strongly felt in those days, +however strange they may sound in our ears to-day. + +"Oh, dreadful!" said some people; "Miss Nightingale is a Unitarian!" + +"Oh, shocking!" said others. "Miss Nightingale is a Roman Catholic!" And +so it went on. But while they were talking and exclaiming, drawing +pictures and singing songs, Miss Nightingale was getting ready. In six +days from the time she undertook the work she was ready to start, with +thirty nurses, chosen with infinite care and pains from the hundreds who +had volunteered to go. There was no flourish of trumpets. While England +was still wondering how they could go, and whether they ought to be +allowed to go--behold, they were gone! slipping away by night, as if +they were bound on some secret errand. Indeed, Miss Nightingale has +never been able to endure "fuss and feathers," and all her life she has +looked for a bushel large enough to hide her light under, though happily +she has never succeeded. + +Only a few relatives and near friends stood on the railway platform on +that evening of October 21, 1854. Miss Nightingale, simply dressed in +black, was very quiet, very serene, with a cheerful word for everyone; +no one who saw her parting look and smile ever forgot them. So, in night +and silence, the "Angel Band" whose glory was soon to shine over all the +world, left the shores of England. + +But though England slept that night, France was wide awake the next +morning. The fishwives of Boulogne had heard what was doing across the +Channel, and were on the lookout. When Miss Nightingale and her nurses +stepped ashore they were met by a band of women, in snowy caps and +rainbow-striped petticoats, all with outstretched hands, all crying, +"Welcome, welcome, our English sisters!" + +They knew, Marie and Jeanne and Suzette. Their own husbands, sons, and +brothers were fighting and dying in the Crimea; their own nurses, the +blessed Sisters of Mercy, had from the first been toiling in hospital +and trench in that dreadful land; how should they not welcome the +English sisters who were going to join in the holy work? + +Loudly they proclaimed that none but themselves, the fishwives of +Boulogne, should help the _soeurs Anglaises_. They shouldered bag and +baggage; they swung the heavy trunks up on their broad backs, and with +laughter and tears mingled in true French fashion, trudged away to the +railway station. Pay? Not a sou; not a centime! The blessing of our +English sisters is all we desire; and if they should chance to see +Pierre or Jacques _là-bas_--ah! the heavens are over all. A handshake, +then, and _Adieu! Adieu! vivent les soeurs!_ the good God go with you! + +And that prayer was surely answered. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +SCUTARI. + + +Open the atlas once more at the map of Russia, and look downward from +the Crimea, across the Black Sea toward the southwest. You see a narrow +strait marked "Bosporus" leading from the Black Sea to the Sea of +Marmora; and on either side of the strait a black dot, one marked +"Constantinople," the other "Scutari." It is to Scutari that we are +going, but we must not pass the other places without a word, for they +are very famous. This is the land of story, and every foot of ground, +every trickle of water, has its legend or fairy tale, or true story of +sorrow or heroism. + +Bosporus means "the cow's ford." It was named, the old story says, for +Io, a beautiful maiden beloved of Zeus. To conceal her from the eyes of +Hera, his jealous wife, Zeus turned Io into a snow-white heifer; but +Hera, suspecting the truth, persuaded him to give the poor pretty +creature to her. Then followed a sad time. Hera set Argus, a giant with +a hundred eyes, to watch the heifer, lest she escape and regain her +human form. The poor heifer-maiden was so unhappy that Zeus sent Hermes +to set her free; and the cunning god told stories to Argus till he fell +asleep, and then cut off his head, hundred eyes and all. Hera took the +eyes and put them in the tail of her sacred peacock, and there they are +to this day. Meantime Io ran away as fast as she could, but she could +not escape the vengeance of the jealous goddess. Hera sent a gadfly +after her, which stung her cruelly, and pursued her over land and sea. +The poor creature fled wildly hither and thither; swam across the Ionian +Sea, which has borne her name ever since; roamed over the whole breadth +of what is now Turkey, and finally came to the narrow strait or ford +between the two seas. Here she crossed again, and went on her weary way; +and here again she left--not her own name, but that of the animal in +whose form she suffered. Poor Io! one is glad to read that she was +released at last, and given her woman's body again. True? No, the story +is not true, but it is very famous. Those of you who care about moths +will find another reminder of Io in the beautiful _Saturnia Io_, which +is named for the Greek maiden and her cruel foe, Saturnia being another +name for Hera or Juno. + +The scenery along the banks of the Bosporus is so beautiful that whole +books have been written about it. On either side are seven promontories +and seven bays; indeed, it is almost a chain of seven lakes, connected +by seven swift-rushing currents. The promontories are crowned with +villages, towns, palaces, ruins, each with its own beauty, its own +interest, its own story; but we cannot stay for these; we must go onward +to where, at the lower end of the passage, with its long, narrow harbor, +the Golden Horn, curling round it, lies Constantinople, the wonder-city. + +Here indeed we must stop for a moment, for this is one of the most +famous cities of history. In ancient days, when Rome was in her glory +and long before, it was Byzantium that lay shining in the curve of the +Golden Horn; Byzantium the rich, the powerful, the desired of all; +fought over through successive generations by Persian, Greek, Gaul and +Roman; conquered, liberated, conquered again. In the second century of +our era it was besieged by the Roman emperor Severus, and after a heroic +resistance lasting three years, was taken and laid waste by the +conqueror. But the city sprang up again, more beautiful than ever, and a +century and a half later the emperor Constantine made it the capital of +the Roman Empire, and gave it his own name. + +Constantinopolis, the City of Constantine; so it became in the year 330, +and so it remains to this day, but not under the rule of Romans or their +descendants. + +"Blessed shall he be who shall take Constantinople!" So, three hundred +years later, exclaimed Mohammed, the prophet and leader of men. His +disciples and followers never forgot the saying, and many wars were +fought, many desperate attempts made by the Mohammedans to win the +wonder city. It was another Mohammed, not a prophet but a great soldier, +surnamed the Conqueror, who finally conquered it, in 1453, after another +tremendous siege, of which you will read in history. There is a terrible +story about the entry of this savage conqueror into the city. It is said +that its inhabitants, mostly Christians, though of various +nationalities, took refuge in the great church of St. Sophia, and were +there barbarously slaughtered by the ferocious Turks. In the south aisle +of the church the dead lay piled in great heaps, and in over this +dreadful rampart rode Mohammed on his war horse; and as he rode, he +lifted his bloody right hand and smote one of the pillars, and there--so +the story says--the mark may be seen to this day. + +From that time to our own Constantinople has been the capital city of +the Turkish Empire. Again, I wish I might tell you about at least a few +of its many wonders, for I have seen some of them, but again I must +hasten on. + +The city is so great that it overflows in every direction; in fact, +there are three cities in one: Stamboul, the central division, filling +the tongue of land between the Golden Horn and the Sea of Marmora; +Galata, on the farther bank of the Horn; and Scutari, on the opposite +shore of the Bosporus. It is to the last-named that we are going. + +Although actually a suburb of Constantinople, Scutari is a town in +itself, and a large and ancient one. In the earliest times of the great +Persian monarchy, it was called _Chrysopolis_, the Golden City. Its +present name means in Persian a courier who carries royal orders from +station to station; that is because the place has always, from its +earliest days, been a _rendezvous_ for caravans, messengers, travelers +of every description. Here Xenophon and his Greeks, returning from the +war against Cyrus, halted for seven days while the soldiers disposed of +the booty they had won in the campaign. Here, for hundreds of years, +stood the three colossal statues, forty-eight feet high, erected by the +Byzantians in honor of the Athenians, who had saved them from +destruction at the hands of Philip the Lacedæmonian. Here, to-day, are +mosques and convents, palaces and tombs, especially the last; for the +burying ground of Scutari is one of the largest in the world, and its +silent avenues hold, some say, twenty times as many dwellers as the gay +and noisy streets of Stamboul. + +It is a strange place, this great burying ground. Beside each tomb rises +a cypress tree, tall and majestic. The tombs themselves are mostly +pillars of marble, with a globe or ball on the top; and perched atop of +this globe is in many cases a turban or a fez, carved in stone and +painted in gay colors. This shows that a man lies beneath; the women's +tombs are marked by a grapevine or a stem of lotus, also carved in +marble. At foot of the column is a flat stone, hollowed out in the +middle to form a small basin. Some of these basins are filled with +flowers or perfumes; in others, the rain and dew make a pleasant bathing +and drinking place for the birds who fly in great flocks about the quiet +place. + +Not far from this great cemetery is another place of burial, that of the +English; and this is laid out like a lovely garden, and watched and +tended with loving care; for here rest the brave men who fell in this +terrible war of the Crimea, or who wasted away in the great building +that towers foursquare over all the neighborhood. We must look well at +this building, the Barrack Hospital of Scutari, for this is what +Florence Nightingale came so far to see. Through all the long, wearisome +journey, I doubt whether she gave much heed to the beauties or the +discomforts of the way. Her eyes were set steadfastly forward, following +her swift thoughts; and eyes and thoughts sought this one thing, this +gaunt, bare building rising beside the new-made graves. Let us follow +her and see what she found there. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE BARRACK HOSPITAL. + + +The Barrack Hospital at Scutari was just what its name implies. It was +built for soldiers to live in, and was big enough to take in whole +regiments. Surrounding the four sides of a quadrangle, each one of its +sides was nearly a quarter of a mile long, and it was believed that +twelve thousand men could be exercised in the great central court. Three +sides of the building were arranged in galleries and corridors, rising +story upon story; we are told that these long narrow rooms, if placed +end to end, would cover four miles of ground. At each corner rose a +tower; the building was well situated, and looked out over the Bosporus +toward the glittering mosques and minarets of Stamboul. + +You would think that this vast building would hold all the sick and +wounded men of one short war; but this was not so. Seven others were +erected, and all were filled to overflowing; but the Barrack Hospital +was Miss Nightingale's headquarters, and the chief scene of her labors, +though she had authority over all; I shall therefore describe the +situation and the work as she found it there. + +If there had been mismanagement at home in England, there had been even +worse at the seat of war. The battles, you remember, were all fought in +the Crimea. They were cruel, terrible battles, too terrible to dwell +upon here. Hundreds and thousands were killed; but other hundreds and +thousands lay wounded and helpless on the field. In those days there was +no Red Cross, no field practice, no first aid to the injured. The poor +sufferers were taken, all bleeding and fainting as they were, to the +water side, and there put in boats which carried them, tossing on the +rough waters of the Black Sea, across to Scutari. Several days would +pass before any were got from the battlefield to the ferry below the +hospital, and most of them had not had their wounds dressed or their +broken limbs set. Often they had had no food; they were tortured by +fever and thirst; and now they must walk, if they could drag themselves, +or be dragged or carried by others up the hill to the hospital. We can +fancy how they looked forward to rest; how they thought of comfort, aid, +relief from pain. Alas! they found little of all these things. + +The Barrack Hospital had been built by the Turks, and lent to the +English by the Turkish Government; it had been meant for the hardy +Turkish soldiery to sleep in, and there were no appliances to fit it for +a hospital. We are told that in the early months of the war "there were +no vessels for water or utensils of any kind; no soap, towels or cloths, +no hospital clothes; the men lying in their uniforms, stiff with gore +and covered with filth to a degree and of a kind no one could write +about; their persons covered with vermin, which crawled about the floors +and walls of the dreadful den of dirt, pestilence and death to which +they were consigned." + +Is this too dreadful to read about? But it was not too dreadful to +happen. The poor fellows, laid down in the midst of all this horror, +would wait with a soldier's patience, hoping for the doctor or surgeon +who should bind up their wounds and relieve their terrible suffering. +Alas! often and often death was more prompt than the doctor, and +stilled the pain forever, before any human aid had been given. + +One of Miss Nightingale's assistants writes: + +"How can I ever describe my first day in the hospital at Scutari? +Vessels were arriving and orderlies carrying the poor fellows, who with +their wounds and frost-bites had been tossing about on the Black Sea for +two or three days and sometimes more. Where were they to go? Not an +available bed. They were laid on the floor one after another, till the +beds were emptied of those dying of cholera and every other disease. +Many died immediately after being brought in--their moans would pierce +the heart--and the look of agony on those poor dying faces will never +leave my heart. They may well be called 'the martyrs of the Crimea.'" + +Where were the doctors? They were there, doing their very best; working +day and night, giving their strength and their lives freely; but there +were not half, not a tenth part, enough of them; and there was no one to +help them but the orderlies, who, as I have said, had had no training, +and knew nothing of sickness or hospital work. The conditions grew so +frightful that a kind of paralysis seemed to fall upon the minds of the +workers. They felt that the task was hopeless, and they went about their +duties like people in a nightmare. The strangest thing of all, to us +now, seems to be that they _did not tell_. Though Mr. Russell and others +wrote to England of the horrors of the hospitals, the authorities +themselves were silent, or if questioned, would only reply that +everything was "all right." There was no inspection that was worthy of +the name. The same officers who would front death on the battlefield +with a song and a laugh, shrank from meeting it in the hospital wards, +the air of which was heavy with the poison of cholera and fever. + +"An orderly officer took the rounds of the wards every night, to see +that all was in order. He was of course expected by the orderlies, and +the moment he raised the latch he received the word: 'All right, your +honor!' and passed on. This was hospital inspection!"[3] + +In fact, these orderlies too often, I fear, bore some resemblance to the +old class of nurses that I described, and were in many cases rough, +unfeeling, ignorant men. Sometimes it was for this reason that they +drank the brandy which should have been given to their patients; but +often, again, it was because they were ill themselves, or else because +they were so overcome by the horrors around them that they drank just to +bring forgetfulness for a time. + +The strange paralysis of which I have spoken seemed to hang over +everything connected with the unfortunate soldiers of the Crimea. Mr. +Sidney Herbert assured Miss Nightingale that the hospitals were supplied +with every necessary. He had reason to think so, for the things had been +sent, had left England, had reached the shores of the Bosporus. "Medical +stores had been sent out by the ton." But where were they? I have +already told you; they were rotting on the wharves, locked up in the +warehouses, buried in the holds of vessels; they were everywhere except +in the hospitals. The doctors had nothing to work with, but they could +not leave their work to find out why it was. + +The other authorities said it was "all right!" They knew the things had +come, but they were not sure just who were the proper persons to open +the cargoes, take out and distribute the stores; it must not be done +except by the proper persons. This is what is called _red tape_; it +stands for authority without intelligence, and many books have been +written about it. I remember, when I was a child, a cartoon in _Punch_ +showing the British soldier entangled in the coils of a frightful +serpent, struggling for life; the serpent was labeled "_Red Tape_." (The +monster is still alive in our day, but he is not nearly so powerful, and +people are always on the lookout for him, and can generally drive him +away.) + +This was the state of things when Miss Nightingale and her band of +nurses arrived at Scutari. Her first round of the hospitals was a +terrible experience, which no later one ever effaced from her mind. The +air of the wards was so polluted as to be perfectly stifling. "The +sheets," she said, "were of canvas, and so coarse that the wounded men +begged to be left in their blankets. It was indeed impossible to put men +in such a state of emaciation into those sheets. There was no bedroom +furniture of any kind, and only empty beer or wine bottles for +candlesticks."[4] + +The wards were full to overflowing, and the corridors crowded with sick +and wounded, lying on the floor, with the rats running over them. She +looked out of the windows; under them were lying dead animals in every +state of decay, refuse and filth of every description. She sought the +kitchens; there were no kitchens, and no cooks; at least nothing that +would be recognized to-day as a hospital kitchen. In the barrack kitchen +were thirteen huge coppers; in these the men cooked their own food, meat +and vegetables together, the separate portions inclosed in nets, all +plunged in together, and taken out when some one was ready to take them. +Part of the food would be raw when it came out, another part boiled to +rags. This was all the food there was, for sick and well, the wounded, +the fever-stricken, the cholera patient. No doubt hundreds died from +improper feeding alone. + +She looked for the laundry; there was no laundry. There were washing +contracts, but up to the time of her arrival "only seven shirts had +been washed." The clothes and bed linen of wounded men and of those sick +with infectious diseases were thrown in together. Moreover, the +contractors stole most of the clothes that came into their hands, so +that the sick did not like to part with their few poor garments, for +fear of never seeing them again, and were practically without clean +linen, except when a soldier's wife would now and then take compassion +on them, and wash out a few articles. + +These were the conditions that Florence Nightingale had to meet. A +delicate and sensitive woman, reared amid beauty and luxury, these were +the scenes among which she was to live for nearly two years. But one +thing more must be noted. Do you think everyone was glad to see her and +her nurses? Not by any means! The overwrought doctors were dismayed and +angered at the prospect of a "parcel of women" coming--as they +fancied--to interfere with their work, and make it harder than it was +already. The red-tape officials were even less pleased. What? A woman in +petticoats, a "Lady-in-Chief," coming to inquire into their deeds and +their methods? Had they not said repeatedly that everything was all +right? What was the meaning of this? + +This was her coming; this is what she found; now we shall see what she +did. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE LADY-IN-CHIEF. + + +Miss Nightingale arrived at Scutari on November 4th. You have seen what +she found; but there was worse to come. Only twenty-four hours after her +arrival, the wounded from the battle of Inkerman began to come in; soon +every inch of room in both the Barrack and the General hospital was +full, and men by hundreds were lying on the muddy ground outside, unable +to find room even on the floor of the corridor. Neither Lady-in-Chief +nor nurses had had time to rest after their long voyage, to make plans +for systematic work, even to draw breath after their first glimpse of +the horrors around them, when this great avalanche of suffering and +misery came down upon them. No woman in history has had to face such a +task as now flung itself upon Florence Nightingale. + +She met it as the great meet trial, quietly and calmly. Her cheek might +pale at what she had to see, but there was no flinching in those clear, +gray-blue eyes, no trembling of those firm lips. Ship after ship +discharged its ghastly freight at the ferry below; train after train of +wounded was dragged up the hill, brought into the overflowing hospital, +laid down on pallet, on mattress, on bare floor, on muddy ground, +wherever space could be found. "The men lay in double rows down the long +corridors, forming several miles of suffering humanity." + +As the poor fellows were brought in, they looked up, and saw a slender +woman in a black dress, with a pale, beautiful face surmounted by a +close-fitting white cap. Quietly, but with an authority that no one ever +thought of disputing, she gave her orders, directing where the sufferers +were to be taken, what doctor was to be summoned, what nurses to attend +them. During these days she was known sometimes to stand on her feet +_twenty hours at a time_, seeing that each man was put in the right +place, where he might receive the right kind of help. I ask you to think +of this for a moment. Twenty hours! nearly the whole of a day and +night. + +Where a particularly severe operation was to be performed, Miss +Nightingale was present whenever it was possible, giving to both surgeon +and patient the comfort and support of her wonderful calm strength and +sympathy. In this dreadful inrush of the Inkerman wounded, the surgeons +had first of all to separate the more hopeful cases from those that +seemed desperate. The working force was so insufficient, they must +devote their energies to saving those who could be saved; this is how it +seemed to them. Once Miss Nightingale saw five men lying together in a +corner, left just as they had come from the vessel. + +"Can nothing be done for them?" she asked the surgeon in charge. He +shook his head. + +"Then will you give them to me?" + +"Take them," replied the surgeon, "if you like; but we think their case +is hopeless." + +Do you remember the little girl sitting by the wounded dog? All night +long Florence Nightingale sat beside those five men, one of the faithful +nurses with her, feeding them with a spoon at short intervals till +consciousness returned, and a little strength began to creep back into +their poor torn bodies; then washing their wounds, making them tidy and +decent, and all the time cheering them with kind and hopeful words. When +morning came the surgeons, amazed, pronounced the men in good condition +to be operated upon, and--we will hope, though the story does not tell +the end--saved. + +Is it any wonder that one poor lad burst into tears as he cried: "I +can't help it, I can't indeed, when I see them. Only think of +Englishwomen coming out here to nurse us! It seems so homelike and +comfortable." + +In those days one of the nurses wrote home to England: + +"It does appear absolutely impossible to meet the wants of those who are +dying of dysentery and exhaustion; out of four wards committed to my +care, eleven men have died in the night, simply from exhaustion, which, +humanly speaking, might have been stopped, could I have laid my hand at +once on such nourishment as I knew they ought to have had. + +"It is necessary to be as near the scene of war as we are, to know the +horrors which we have seen and heard of. I know not which sight is most +heartrending--to witness fine strong men and youths worn down by +exhaustion and sinking under it, or others coming in fearfully wounded. + +"The whole of yesterday was spent, first in sewing the men's mattresses +together, and then in washing them, and assisting the surgeons, when we +could, in dressing their ghastly wounds, and seeing the poor fellows +made as easy as their circumstances would admit of, after their five +days' confinement on board ship, during which space their wounds were +not dressed.... We have not seen a drop of milk, and the bread is +extremely sour. The butter is most filthy--it is Irish butter in a state +of decomposition; and the meat is more like moist leather than food. +Potatoes we are waiting for until they arrive from France." + +This was written six days after arrival. By the tenth day, a miracle had +been accomplished. Miss Nightingale had established and fitted up a +kitchen, from which eight hundred men were fed daily with delicacies and +food suitable to their condition. Beef-tea, chicken broth, jelly--a +quiet wave of the wand, and these things sprang up, as it were, out of +the earth. + +Hear how one of the men describes it himself. On arriving at the +hospital early in the morning, he was given a bowl of gruel. "'Tommy, me +boy,' he said to himself, 'that's all you'll get into your inside this +blessed day, and think yourself lucky you've got that.' But two hours +later, if another of them blessed angels didn't come entreating of me to +have just a little chicken broth! Well, I took that, thinking maybe it +was early dinner, and before I had well done wondering what would happen +next, round the nurse came again with a bit o' jelly, and all day long +at intervals they kept on bringing me what they called 'a little +nourishment.' In the evening, Miss Nightingale she came and had a look +at me, and says she, 'I hope you're feeling better.' I could have said, +'Ma'am, I feels as fit as a fightin' cock,' but I managed to git out +somethin' a bit more polite." + +How was the miracle accomplished? Up to this time, the method of giving +out stores had been much like the method (only there was really no +method about it!) of cooking and washing. There were no regular hours; +if you asked for a thing in the morning, you might get it in the +evening, when the barrack fires were out. And you could get nothing at +all until it had been inspected by this official, approved by that, and +finally given out by the other. These were called "service rules"; they +were really folds and coils of the monster Red Tape, at his work of +binding and strangling. How was the miracle accomplished? Simply enough. +Miss Nightingale, with the foresight of a born leader, had anticipated +all this, and was ready for it. The materials for all the arrowroot, +beef-tea, chicken broth, wine jelly, of those first weeks, came out of +her own stores, brought out with her in the vessel, the _Victis_, from +England. She had no intention of waiting a day or an hour for anyone; +she had not a day or an hour to waste. + +It must have been a wonderful cargo, that of the _Victis_; I can think +of nothing but the astonishing bag of the Mother in the "Swiss Family +Robinson," or that still more marvelous one of the Fairy Blackstick. Do +you remember? + +"And Giglio returned to his room, where the first thing he saw was the +fairy bag lying on the table, which seemed to give a little hop as he +came in. 'I hope it has some breakfast in it,' says Giglio, 'for I have +only a very little money left.' But on opening the bag, what do you +think was there? A blacking-brush and a pot of Warren's jet, and on the +pot was written, + + "Poor young men their boots must black; + Use me and cork me and put me back!" + +So Giglio laughed and blacked his boots, and put the brush and the +bottle into the bag. + +"When he had done dressing himself, the bag gave another hop, and he +went to it and took out-- + + 1. A tablecloth and napkin. + + 2. A sugar basin full of the best loaf sugar. + + 4, 6, 8, 10. Two forks, two teaspoons, two knives, and a pair of + sugar-tongs, and a butterknife, all marked G. + + 11, 12, 13. A teacup, saucer, and slop-basin. + + 14. A jug full of delicious cream. + + 15. A canister with black tea and green. + + 16. A large tea-urn and boiling water. + + 17. A saucepan, containing three eggs nicely done. + + 18. A quarter of a pound of best Epping butter. + + 19. A brown loaf. + +"And if he hadn't enough now for a good breakfast, I should like to know +who ever had one?" + +When I was your age, I never tired of reading about this breakfast; and +then there was that other wonderful day when the bag was "grown so long +that the Prince could not help remarking it. He went to it, opened it, +and what do you think he found in it? + +"A splendid long gold-handled, red-velvet-scabbarded cut-and-thrust +sword, and on the sheath was embroidered 'ROSALBA FOREVER!'" + +But I am not writing the "Rose and the Ring"; I wish I were! + +So, as I said, all good and comforting things came in those first days +out of the Fairy Florence's bag--I mean ship. She hired a house close by +the hospital, and set up a laundry, with every proper and sanitary +arrangement, and there, every week, five hundred shirts were washed, +besides other garments. But now came a new difficulty. Many of the +soldiers had no clothes at all save the filthy and ragged ones on their +backs; what was to become of them while their shirts were washed and +mended? The ship bag gave another hop (at least I should think it would +have, for pure joy of the good it was doing), and out came ten thousand +shirts; and for the first time since they left the battlefield the sick +and wounded men were clean and comfortable. + +But the Lady-in-Chief knew that her fairy stores were not of the kind +that renew themselves; and having once got matters into something like +decent order and comfort in the hospital, she turned quietly and +resolutely to do battle with the monster Red Tape. + +The officials of Scutari did not know what to make of the new state of +things. As I have said, many of them had shaken their heads and pulled +very long faces when they heard that a woman was coming out who was to +have full power and authority over all things pertaining to the care of +the sick and wounded. They honestly thought, no doubt, that the +confusion would be doubled, the distraction turned to downright madness. +What could a woman know about such matters? What experience had she had +of "service rules"? What would become of them all? + +They were soon to find out. The Lady-in-Chief did not cry out, or wring +her hands, or do any of the things they had expected. Neither did she +bluster or rage, scold or reproach. She simply said that this or that +must be done, and then saw that it was done. Her tact and judgment were +as great as her power and wisdom; more I cannot say. + +Suppose she wanted certain stores that were in a warehouse on the wharf. +The warehouse was locked. She sent for the wharfinger. Would he please +open the warehouse and give her the stores? He was very sorry, but he +could not do so without an order from the board. She went to the chief +officer of the board. He was very sorry, but it would be necessary to +have a meeting of the entire board. Who made up the board? Well, Mr. +So-and-so, and Dr. This, and Mr. That, and Colonel 'Tother. Where were +they? Well, one of them was not very well, and another was probably out +riding, and a third---- + +Would he please call them together at once? + +Well, he was extremely busy just now, but to-morrow or the day after, he +would be delighted---- + +Would he be ready himself for a meeting, if Miss Nightingale could get +the other members of the board together? Well--of course--he would be +delighted, but he could assure Miss Nightingale that everything would +be all right, without her having the trouble to---- + +The board met; pen, ink and paper were ready. Would they kindly sign the +order? Many thanks! Good morning! + +And the warehouse was opened, and the goods on their way to the +hospital, before the astonished gentlemen had fairly drawn their breath. + +"But what kind of way is this to do business?" cried the slaves of Red +Tape. "She doesn't give us time! The moment a thing is wanted, she goes +and gets it!!! The rules of the service----" + +But this was not true; for, as methodical as she was wise and generous, +Miss Nightingale was most careful to consult the proper authorities, +and, whenever it was possible, to make them take the necessary steps +themselves. Once, and only once, did she absolutely take the law into +her own hands. There came a moment when certain stores were desperately +needed for some sick and wounded men. The stores were at hand, but they +had not been inspected, and Red Tape had decreed that nothing should be +given out until it had been inspected by the board. (This was another +board, probably; their name was Legion.) Miss Nightingale tried to get +the board together, but this time without success. One was away, and +another was ill, and a third was--I don't know where. The clear +gray-blue eyes grew stern. + +"I must have these things!" she said quietly. "My men are dying for lack +of them." + +The under-official stammered and turned pale; he did not wish to disobey +her, but--it meant a court-martial for him if he disobeyed the rules of +the service. + +"You shall have no blame," said the Lady-in-Chief. "I take the entire +responsibility upon myself. Open the door!" + +The door was opened, and in a few moments the sick men had the +stimulants for lack of which they were sinking into exhaustion. + +When Miss Nightingale arrived at Scutari, the death rate in the Barrack +Hospital was sixty per cent; within a few months it was reduced to one +per cent; and this, under heaven, was accomplished by her and her +devoted band of nurses. Do you wonder that she was called "The Angel of +the Crimea?" + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE LADY WITH THE LAMP. + + Whene'er a noble deed is wrought,[5] + Whene'er is spoken a noble thought, + Our hearts, in glad surprise, + To higher levels rise. + + The tidal wave of deeper souls + Into our inmost being rolls, + And lifts us unawares + Out of all meaner cares. + + Honor to those whose words or deeds + Thus help us in our daily needs, + And by their overflow + Raise us from what is low! + + Thus thought I, as by night I read + Of the great army of the dead, + The trenches cold and damp, + The starved and frozen camp,-- + + The wounded from the battle-plain, + In dreary hospitals of pain, + The cheerless corridors, + The cold and stony floors. + + Lo! in that house of misery + A lady with a lamp I see + Pass through the glimmering gloom, + And flit from room to room. + + And slow, as in a dream of bliss, + The speechless sufferer turns to kiss + Her shadow, as it falls + Upon the darkening walls. + + As if a door in heaven should be + Opened and then closed suddenly, + The vision came and went, + The light shone and was spent. + + On England's annals, through the long + Hereafter of her speech and song, + That light its rays shall cast + From portals of the past. + + A Lady with a Lamp shall stand + In the great history of the land, + A noble type of good, + Heroic womanhood. + + Nor even shall be wanting here + The palm, the lily, and the spear, + The symbols that of yore + Saint Filomena bore. + + + +Miss Nightingale's headquarters were in the "Sisters' Tower," as it came +to be called, one of the four corner towers of the great building. Here +was a large, airy room, with doors opening off it on each side. In the +middle was a large table, covered with stores of every kind, constantly +in demand, constantly replaced; and on the floor, and flowing into all +the corners, were--more stores! Bales of shirts, piles of socks, +slippers, dressing gowns, sheets, flannels--everything you can think of +that is useful and comfortable in time of sickness. About these piles +the white-capped nurses came and went, like bees about a hive; all was +quietly busy, cheerful, methodical. In a small room opening off the +large one the Lady-in-Chief held her councils with nurses, doctors, +generals or orderlies; giving to all the same courteous attention, the +same clear, calm, helpful advice or directions. Here, too, for hours at +a time, she sat at her desk, writing; letters to Sidney Herbert and his +wife; letters to Lord Raglan, the commander-in-chief, who, though at +first averse to her coming, became one of her firmest friends and +admirers; letters to sorrowing wives and mothers and sisters in +England. She received letters by the thousand; she could not answer them +all with her own hand, but I am sure she answered as many as was +possible. One letter was forwarded to her by the Herberts which gave a +great pleasure not to her only, but to everyone in all that place of +suffering. It was dated Windsor Castle, December 6, 1854. + +"Would you tell Mrs. Herbert," wrote good Queen Victoria, "that I beg +she would let me see frequently the accounts she receives from Miss +Nightingale or Mrs. Bracebridge, as _I hear no details of the wounded_, +though I see so many from officers, etc., about the battlefield, and +naturally the former must interest me more than anyone. + +"Let Mrs. Herbert also know that I wish Miss Nightingale and the ladies +would tell these poor, noble wounded and sick men, that _no one_ takes a +warmer interest or feels _more_ for their sufferings or admires their +courage and heroism _more_ than their Queen. Day and night she thinks of +her beloved troops. So does the Prince. + +"Beg Mrs. Herbert to communicate these my words to those ladies, as I +know that _our_ sympathy is much valued by these noble +fellows.--Victoria." + +I think the tears may have come into those clear eyes of Miss +Nightingale, when she read these words. She gave the letter to one of +the chaplains, and he went from ward to ward, reading it aloud to the +men, and ending each reading with "God save the Queen!" The words were +murmured or whispered after him by the lips of sick and dying, and +through all the mournful place went a great wave of tender love and +loyalty toward the good Queen in England, and toward their own queen, +their angel, who had shared her pleasure with them. + +You will hardly believe that in England, while the Queen was writing +thus, some people were still sadly troubled about Miss Nightingale's +religious views, and were writing to the papers, warning other people +against her; but so it was. One clergyman actually warned his flock not +to subscribe money for the soldiers in the East "if it was to pass +through Popish hands." He thought the Lady-in-Chief was a Catholic; +others still maintained that she was a Unitarian; others were sure she +had gone out with the real purpose of converting the soldiers to +High-Church views. + +In reading about this kind of thing, it is comforting to find one good +Irish clergyman who, being asked to what sect Miss Nightingale belonged, +replied: "She belongs to a sect which unfortunately is a very rare +one--the sect of the Good Samaritans." + +But these grumblers were only a few, we must think. The great body of +English people was filled with an enthusiasm of gratitude toward the +"angel band" and its leader. From the Queen in her palace down to the +humblest working women in her cottage, all were at work making lint and +bandages, shirts and socks and havelocks for the soldiers. Nor were they +content with making things. Every housekeeper ransacked her linen closet +and camphor chest, piled sheets and blankets and pillowcases together, +tied them up in bundles, addressed them to Miss Nightingale, and sent +them off. + +When Sister Mary Aloysius first began to sort the bales of goods on the +wharf at Scutari, she thought that "the English nobility must have +emptied their wardrobes and linen stores, to send out bandages for the +wounded. There was the most beautiful underclothing, and the finest +cambric sheets, with merely a scissors run here and there through them, +to insure their being used for no other purpose, some from the Queen's +palace, with the royal monogram beautifully worked." + +Yes, and the rats had a wonderful time with all these fine and delicate +things, before the Sisters could get their hands on them! + +These private gifts were not the only nor the largest ones. The _Times_, +which you will remember had been the first to reveal the terrible +conditions in the Crimea, now set to work and organized a fund for the +relief of the wounded. A subscription list was opened, and from every +part of the United Kingdom money flowed in like water. The _Times_ +undertook to distribute the money, and appointed a good and wise man, +Mr. McDonald, to go out to the East and see how it could best be +applied. + +And now a strange thing came to pass; the sort of thing that, in one way +or another, was constantly happening in connection with the Crimean War. +Mr. McDonald went to the highest authorities in the War Office and told +of his purpose. They bowed and smiled and said the _Times_ and its +subscribers were very kind, but the fact was that such ample provision +had been made by the Government that it was hardly likely the money +would be needed. Mr. McDonald opened his eyes wide; but he was a wise +man, as I have said; so he bowed and smiled in return, and going to +Sidney Herbert, told his story to him. + +"Go!" said Mr. Herbert; "Go out to the Crimea!" and he went. + +When he reached the seat of war, it was the same thing over again. The +high officials were very polite, very glad to see him, very pleased that +the people of England were so sympathetic and patriotic; but the fact +was that nothing was wanted; they were amply supplied; in short, +everything was "all right." + +Many men, after this second rebuff, would have given the matter up and +gone home; but Mr. McDonald was not of that kind. While he was +considering what step to take next, one man came forward to help him; +one man who was brave enough to defy Red Tape, for the sake of his +soldiers. This was the surgeon of the 39th regiment. I wish I knew his +name, so that you and I could remember it. He came to Mr. McDonald and +told him that his regiment, which had been stationed at Gibraltar, had +been ordered to the Crimea and had now reached the Bosporus. They were +going on to the Crimea, to pass the winter in bitter cold, amid ice and +snow; and they had no clothes save the light linen suits which had been +given them to wear under the hot sun of Gibraltar. + +Here was a chance for the _Times_ fund! Without more ado Mr. McDonald +went into the bazaars of Constantinople and bought flannels and woolens, +until every man in that regiment had a good warm winter suit in which to +face the Crimean winter. + +Did anyone else follow the example of the surgeon of the 39th? Not one! +Probably many persons thought he had done a shocking thing, by thus +exposing the lack of provision in the army for its soldiers' comfort. +This was casting reflection upon Red Tape! Better for the soldier to +freeze and die, than for a slur to be cast upon those in authority, upon +the rules of the service! + +So, though McDonald stood with hands held out, as it were, offering +help, no one came forward to take it. + +He went to Scutari, and here at first it was the same thing. He offered +his aid to the chief medical authority over the hospitals; the reply was +calm and precise: "Nothing was wanted!" He went still higher, to +"another and more august quarter"; the answer was still more emphatic: +there was no possible occasion for help; soldiers and sailors had +everything they required; if he wished to dispose of the _Times_ fund, +it might be a good thing to build an English church at Pera! + +"Yet, at that very time," says the historian of the Crimea, "wants so +dire as to include want of hospital furniture and of shirts for the +patients, and of the commonest means for maintaining cleanliness, were +afflicting our stricken soldiery in the hospitals."[6] + +Mr. McDonald did not build an English church; instead, he went to the +Barrack Hospital and asked for the Lady-in-Chief. + +I should like to have seen Florence Nightingale's face when she heard +his story. No help needed? The soldiers supplied with everything they +needed? Everything "all right"? + +"Come with me!" she said. + +She took him through the wards of the Barrack Hospital, and showed him +what had been done, and what an immense deal was yet to do; how, though +many were comfortably clad, yet fresh hundreds were arriving constantly, +half naked, without a shred of clean or decent clothing on their backs; +how far the demand was beyond the supply; how fast her own stores were +dwindling, and how many of the private offerings were unsuitable for the +needs they were sent to fill; how many men were still, after all her +labors, lying on the floor because there were not beds enough to go +round. + +All these things good Mr. McDonald saw, and laid to heart; but he saw +other things besides. + +Perhaps some of you have visited a hospital. You have seen the bright, +fresh, pleasant rooms, the rows of snowy cots, the bright faces of the +nurses, here and there flowers and pictures; seeing two or three hundred +patients, it has seemed to you as if you had seen all the sick people +in the world. Was it not so? + +In the Barrack Hospital (and this, remember, was but one of eight, and +these eight the English hospitals alone!) there were two or three +thousand patients; it was a City of Pain. Its streets were long, narrow +rooms or corridors, bare and gloomy; no furniture save the endless rows +of cots and mattresses, "packed like sardines," as one eye-witness says; +its citizens, men in every stage of sickness and suffering; some tossing +in fever and delirium; some moaning in pain that even a soldier's +strength could not bear silently; some ghastly with terrible wounds; +some sinking into their final sleep. + +Following the light, slight figure of his guide through these narrow +streets of the City of Pain, McDonald saw and noted that + +"Wherever there is disease in its most dangerous form, and the hand of +the Spoiler distressingly nigh, there is this incomparable woman sure to +be seen. Her benignant presence is an influence for good comfort even +among the struggles of expiring nature. She is a 'ministering angel' +without any exaggeration in these hospitals, and as the slender form +glides quietly along each corridor, every poor fellow's face softens +with gratitude at the sight of her. When all the medical officers have +retired for the night, and silence and darkness have settled down upon +those miles of prostrate sick, she may be observed alone, with lamp in +her hand, making her solitary rounds. + +"The popular instinct was not mistaken which, when she set out from +England, hailed her as a heroine; I trust she may not earn her title to +a higher though sadder appellation. No one who has observed her fragile +figure and delicate health can avoid misgivings lest these should +fail.... I confidently assert that but for Miss Nightingale the people +of England would scarcely, with all their solicitude, have been spared +the additional pang of knowing, which they must have done sooner or +later, that their soldiers, even in the hospitals, had found scanty +refuge and relief from the unparalleled miseries with which this war has +hitherto been attended." + +Look with me for a moment into one of these wards, these "miles of sick" +through which the agent of the _Times_ passed with his guide. It is +night. Outside, the world is wide and wonderful with moon and stars. +Beyond the dark-blue waters of the Bosporus, the lights of Stamboul +flash and twinkle; nearer at hand, the moonlight falls on the white city +of the dead, and shows its dark cypresses standing like silent guardians +beside the marble tombs; nearer yet, it falls full on the bare, gaunt +square of building that crowns the hill. The windows are narrow, but +still the moonbeams struggle in, and cast a dim light along the +corridor. The vaulted roof is lost in blackness; black, too, are the +corners, and we cannot see where the orderly nods in his chair, or where +the night nurse sits beside a dying patient. All is silent, save for a +low moan or murmur from one cot or another. See where the moonbeam +glimmers white on that cot under the window! That is where the Highland +soldier is lying, he who came so near losing his arm the other day. The +surgeons said it must be amputated, but the Lady-in-Chief begged for a +little time. She thought that with care and nursing the arm might be +saved; would they kindly delay the operation at least for a few days? +The surgeons consented, for by this time no one could or would refuse +her anything. The arm _was_ saved; now the bones are knitting nicely, +and by and by he will be well and strong again, with both arms to work +and play and fight with. + +But broken bones hurt even when they are knitting nicely, and the +Highland lad cannot sleep; he lies tossing about on his narrow cot, +gritting his teeth now and then as the pain bites, but still a happy and +a thankful man. He stares about him through the gloom, trying to see who +is awake and who asleep. But now he starts, for silently the door opens, +and a tiny ray of light, like a golden finger, falls across his bed. A +figure enters and closes the door softly; the figure of a woman, tall +and slender, dressed in black, with white cap and apron. In her hand she +carries a small shaded lamp. At sight of her the sick lad's eyes grow +bright; he raises his sound arm and straightens the blanket, then waits +in eager patience. Slowly the Lady with the Lamp draws near, stopping +beside each cot, listening to the breathing and noting the color of the +sleepers, whispering a word of cheer and encouragement to those who +wake. Now she stands beside his bed, and her radiant smile is brighter, +he thinks, than lamplight or moonlight. A few words in the low, musical +voice, a pat to the bedclothes, a friendly nod, and she passes on to the +next cot. As she goes, her shadow, hardly more noiseless than her +footstep, falls across the sick man's pillow; he turns and kisses it, +and then falls happily asleep. + +So she comes and passes, like a light; and so her very shadow is +blessed, and shall be blessed so long as memory endures. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +WINTER. + + O the long and dreary winter![7] + O the cold and cruel winter! + Ever thicker, thicker, thicker + Froze the ice on lake and river, + Ever deeper, deeper, deeper + Fell the snow o'er all the landscape, + Fell the covering snow, and drifted + Through the forest, round the village. + + * * * * * + + O the famine and the fever! + O the wasting of the famine! + O the blasting of the fever! + O the wailing of the children! + O the anguish of the women! + All the earth was sick and famished; + Hungry was the air around them, + Hungry was the sky above them, + And the hungry stars in heaven + Like the eyes of wolves glared at them! + + + +"The bad weather commenced about November the 10th, and has continued +ever since. A winter campaign is under no circumstances child's play; +but here, where the troops had no cantonments to take shelter in, where +large bodies were collected in one spot, and where the want of +sufficient fuel soon made itself felt, it told with the greatest +severity upon the health, not of the British alone, but of the French +and Turkish troops.... To the severity of the winter the whole army can +bear ample testimony. The troops have felt it in all its intensity; and +when it is considered that they have been under canvas from ten to +twelve months--that they had no other shelter from the sun in summer, +and no other protection from wet and snow, cold and tempestuous winds, +such as have scarcely been known even in this climate, in winter--and +that they passed from a life of total inactivity, already assailed by +deadly disease, to one of the greatest possible exertion--it cannot be a +matter of surprise that a fearful sickness has prevailed throughout +their ranks, and that the men still suffer from it."--Lord Raglan to +Lord Panmure, February, 1855. + +After the battle of Inkerman, the allied armies turned all their +energies to the siege of Sebastopol, the principal city of the Crimea. +You will read some day about this memorable siege, one of the most +famous in history, and about the prodigies of valor performed by both +besiegers and besieged; but I can only touch briefly on those aspects of +it which are connected with my subject. + +The winter of 1854-5 was, as Lord Raglan says, one of unexampled +severity, even in that land of bitter winters. On November 14th a +terrible hurricane swept the country, bringing death and ruin to +Russians and allies alike. In Sebastopol itself trees were torn up by +the roots, buildings unroofed, and much damage done; in the camps of the +besiegers things were even worse. Tents were torn in shreds and swept +away like dead leaves; not only the soldiers' tents, but the great +hospital marquees were destroyed, and the sick and wounded left exposed +to bitter blast and freezing sleet. The trenches were flooded; no fires +could be lit, and therefore no food cooked; and when the snowstorm came +which followed the tempest, many a brave fellow lay down famished and +exhausted, and the white blanket covered his last sleep. + +In the harbor even more ruin was wrought, for the ships were dashed +about like broken toys that a wilful child flings hither and thither. +The _Prince_, which had just arrived loaded with clothing, medicines, +stores of every description, went down with all her precious freight; +the _Resolute_ was lost, too, the principal ammunition ship of the army; +and other vessels loaded with hay for the horses, a supply which would +have fed them for twenty days. + +This dreadful calamity was followed by day after day of what the +soldiers called "Inkerman weather," with heavy mists and low drizzling +clouds; then came bitter, killing frost, then snow, thaw, sleet, frost +again, and so round and round in a cruel circle; and through every +variation of weather the soldier's bed was the earth, now deep in snow, +now bare and hard as iron, now thick with nauseous mud. All day long the +soldiers toiled in the trenches with pick and spade, often under fire, +always on the alert; others on night duty, "five nights out of six, a +large proportion of them constantly under fire." + +Is it to be wondered at that plague and cholera broke out in the camp of +the besiegers, and that a steady stream of poor wretches came creeping +up the hill at Scutari? + +The Lady-in-Chief was ready for them. Thanks to the _Times_ fund and +other subscriptions, she now had ample provision for many days. +Moreover, by this winter time her influence so dominated the hospital +that not only was there no opposition to her wishes, but everyone flew +to carry them out. The rough orderlies, who had growled and sworn at the +notion of a woman coming to order them about, were now her slaves. Her +unvarying courtesy, her sweet and heavenly kindness, woke in many a +rugged breast feelings of which it had never dreamed; and every man who +worked for her was for the time at least a knight and a gentleman. It +was bitter, hard work; she spared them no more than she spared herself; +but they labored as no rules of the service had ever made them work. +Through it all, not one of them, orderlies or common soldiers, ever +failed her "in obedience, thoughtful attention, and considerate +delicacy." "Never," she herself says, "came from any of them one word or +one look which a gentleman would not have used; and while paying this +humble tribute to humble courtesy, the tears come into my eyes as I +think how amidst scenes of loathsome disease and death there arose above +it all the innate dignity, gentleness and chivalry of the men (for never +surely was chivalry so strikingly exemplified), shining in the midst of +what must be considered as the lowest sinks of human misery, and +preventing instinctively the use of one expression which could distress +a gentlewoman." + +If it was so with the orderlies, you can imagine how it was with the +poor fellows for whom she was working. Every smile from her was a gift; +every word was a precious treasure to be stored away and kept through +life. They would do anything she asked, for they knew she would do +anything in her power for them. When any specially painful operation was +to be performed (there was not always chloroform enough, alas! and in +any case it was not given so freely in those days as it is now), the +Lady-in-Chief would come quietly into the operating room and take her +stand beside the patient; and looking up into that calm, steadfast face, +and meeting the tender gaze of those pitying eyes that never flinched +from any sight of pain or horror, he would take courage and nerve +himself to bear the pain, since she was there to help him bear it. + +"We call her the Angel of the Crimea," one soldier wrote home. "Could +bad men be bad in the presence of an angel? Impossible!" + +Another wrote: "Before she came there was such cussin' and swearin' as +you never heard; but after she came it was as holy as a church." + +And still another--perhaps our Highland lad of the night vigil, perhaps +another--wrote to his people: "She would speak to one and another, and +nod and smile to many more; but she could not do it to all, you know, +for we lay there by hundreds; but we could kiss her shadow as it fell, +and lay our heads on our pillows again content." + +Miss Nightingale never wearied of bearing testimony to the many virtues +of the British soldier. She loved to tell stories like the following: + +"I remember a sergeant who, on picket--the rest of the picket killed, +and himself battered about the head--stumbled back to camp (before +Sebastopol), and on his way, picked up a wounded man and brought him on +his shoulders to the lines, where he fell down insensible. When, after +many hours, he recovered his senses, I believe after trepanning, his +first words were to ask after his comrade: 'Is he alive?' + +"'Comrade indeed! yes, he's alive--it's the General!' At that moment the +General, though badly wounded, appeared at the bedside. 'Oh! General, it +was you, was it, I brought in? I'm so glad; I didn't know your honor. +But if I'd known it was you, I'd have saved you all the same!'" + +I must not leave the story of this winter without telling of all that +Miss Nightingale did for the soldiers' wives. There were many of these +poor women, who had come out to this far country to be near their +husbands. There was no proper provision for them, and Miss Nightingale +found them in a wretched condition, living in three or four damp, dark +rooms in the basement of the hospital. Their clothes were worn out; they +were barefooted and bareheaded. We are told that "the only privacy to be +obtained was by hanging up rags of clothes on lines. There, by the light +of a rushlight, the meals were taken, the sick attended, and there the +babies were born and nourished. There were twenty-two babies born from +November to December, and many more during the winter."[8] + +The Lady-in-Chief soon put an end to this state of things. First she fed +and clothed the women from her own stores, and saw that the little +babies were made warm and comfortable. In January a fever broke out +among the women, owing to a broken drain in the basement, and she found +a house near by, had it cleaned and furnished, and persuaded the +commandant to move the women into it. All through the winter she helped +these poor souls in every way, employing some in the laundry, finding +situations for others in Constantinople, sending widows home to England, +helping to start a school for the children. Altogether about five +hundred women were helped out of the miserable condition in which she +found them, and were enabled to earn their own living honestly and +respectably. Writing of these times later, Miss Nightingale says: "When +the improvements in our system which the war must suggest are discussed, +let not the wife and child of the soldier be forgotten." + +Another helper came out to Scutari in those winter days; a gallant +Frenchman, M. Soyer, who had been for years _chef_ of one of the great +London clubs, and who knew all that there was to know about cookery. He +read the _Times_, and in February, 1855, he wrote to the editor: + +"SIR: After carefully perusing the letter of your correspondent, dated +Scutari ... I perceive that, though the kitchen under the +superintendence of Miss Nightingale affords so much relief, the system +of management at the large one in the Barrack Hospital is far from being +perfect. I propose offering my services gratuitously, and proceeding +direct to Scutari at my own personal expense, to regulate that important +department, if the Government will honor me with their confidence, and +grant me the full power of acting according to my knowledge and +experience in such matters." + +It was April before M. Soyer reached Scutari. He went at once to the +Barrack Hospital, asked for Miss Nightingale, and was received by her in +her office, which he calls "a sanctuary of benevolence." They became +friends at once, for each could help the other and greatly desired to do +so. + +"I must especially express my gratitude to Miss Nightingale," says the +good gentleman in his record of the time, "who from her extraordinary +intelligence and the good organization of her kitchen procured me every +material for making a commencement, and thus saved me at least one +week's sheer loss of time, as my model kitchen did not arrive until +Saturday last." + +M. Soyer, on his side, brought all kinds of things which Miss +Nightingale rejoiced to see: new stoves, new kinds of fuel, new +appliances of many kinds which, in the first months of her work, she +could never have hoped to see. He was full of energy, of ingenuity, and +a fine French gayety and enthusiasm which must have been delightful to +all the brave and weary workers in the City of Pain. He went everywhere, +saw and examined everything; and told of what he saw, in his own +flowery, fiery way. He told among other things how, coming back one +night from a gay evening in the doctors' quarters, he was making his way +through the hospital wards to his own room, when, as he turned the +corner of a corridor, he came upon a scene which made him stop and hold +his breath. At the foot of one cot stood a nurse, holding a lighted +lamp. Its light fell on the sick man, who lay propped on pillows, +gasping for breath, and evidently near his end. He was speaking, in +hoarse and broken murmurs; sitting beside him, bending near to catch the +painful utterances, was the Lady-in-Chief, pencil and paper in hand, +writing down the words as he spoke them. Now the dying man fumbled +beneath his pillow, brought out a watch and some other small objects, +and laid them in her hand; then with a sigh of relief, sank back +content. It was two o'clock. Miss Nightingale had been on her feet, very +likely, the whole day, perhaps had not even closed her eyes in sleep; +but word was brought to her that this man was given up by the doctors, +and had only a few hours to live; and in a moment she was by his side, +to speak some final words of comfort, and to take down his parting +message to wife and children. + +The kind-hearted Frenchman never forgot this sight, yet it was one that +might be seen any night in the Barrack Hospital. No man should die alone +and uncomforted if Florence Nightingale and her women could help it. + +This is how M. Soyer describes our heroine: + +"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 recognize only the charming woman. + +"Her dress is generally of a grayish 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 cavalierlike duties, which require the nerve of a +Hercules--and she possesses it when required--she is Rachel[9] on the +stage in both tragedy and comedy." + +The long and dreary winter was over. The snow was gone, and the birds +sang once more among the cypresses of Scutari, and sunned themselves, +and bathed and splashed in the marble basins at the foot of the tombs; +but there was no abatement of the stream that crept up the hill to the +hospital. No frostbite now--I haven't told you about that, because it is +too dreadful for me to tell or for you to hear--but no less sickness. +Cholera was raging in the camp before Sebastopol, and typhus, and +dysentery; the men were dying like flies. The dreaded typhus crept into +the hospital and attacked the workers. Eight of the doctors were +stricken down, seven of whom died. "For a time there was only one +medical attendant in a fit state of health to wait on the sick in the +Barrack Hospital, and his services were needed in twenty-four wards." + +Next three of the devoted nurses were taken, two dying of fever, the +third of cholera. More and more severe grew the strain of work and +anxiety for Miss Nightingale, and those who watched her with loving +anxiety trembled. So fragile, so worn; such a tremendous weight of care +and responsibility on those delicate shoulders! Is she not paler than +usual to-day? What would become of us if she---- + +Their fears were groundless; the time was not yet. Tending the dying +physicians as she had tended their patients; walking, sad but steadfast, +behind the bier that bore her dear and devoted helpers to the grave; +adding each new burden to the rest, and carrying all with unbroken calm, +unwearying patience; Florence Nightingale seemed to bear a charmed life. +There is no record of any single instance, through that terrible winter +and spring, of her being unable to perform the duties she had taken upon +her. She might have said with Sir Galahad: + + "My strength is as the strength of ten + Because my heart is pure." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +MISS NIGHTINGALE UNDER FIRE. + + +In May, 1855, Miss Nightingale decided to go to the Crimea, to inspect +the hospitals there. In the six months spent at Scutari, she had brought +its hospitals into excellent condition; now she felt that she must see +what was being done and what still needed to be done elsewhere. +Accordingly she set sail in the ship _Robert Lowe_, accompanied by her +faithful friend Mr. Bracebridge, who, with his admirable wife, had come +out with her from England, and had been her constant helper and adviser; +M. Soyer, who was going to see how kitchen matters were going _là-bas_, +and her devoted boy Thomas. Thomas had been a drummer boy. He was twelve +years old, and devoted to his drum until he came under the spell of the +Lady-in-Chief. Then he transferred his devotion to her, and became her +aide-de-camp, following her wherever she went, and ready at any moment +to give his life for her. + +It was fair spring weather now, and the fresh, soft air and beautiful +scenery must have been specially delightful to the women who had spent +six months within the four bare walls of the hospital surrounded by +misery and death; but when she found that there were some sick soldiers +on board, Miss Nightingale begged to be taken to them. She went from one +to another in her cheerful way, and every man felt better at once. +Presently she came to a fever patient who was looking very discontented. + +"This man will not take his medicine!" said the attendant. + +"Why will you not take it?" asked Miss Nightingale, with her winning +smile. + +"Because I took some once," said the man, "and it made me sick, and I +haven't liked physic ever since." + +"But if I give it to you myself you will take it, won't you?" + +I wonder if anyone ever refused Miss Nightingale anything! + +"It will make me sick just the same, ma'am!" murmured the poor soul +piteously; but he took the medicine, and forgot to be sick as she sat +beside him and asked about the battle in which he had been wounded. + +When they entered the harbor of Balaklava, they found all the vessels +crowded with people. Word had got abroad that the Lady-in-Chief was +expected, and everybody was agog to see the wonderful woman who had done +such a great work in the hospitals of Scutari. The vessel was no sooner +brought to anchor than all the doctors and officials of Balaklava came +on board, eager to pay their respects and welcome her to their shore. +For an hour she received these various guests, but she could not wait +longer, and by the time Lord Raglan, the Commander-in-Chief, reached the +vessel on the same errand, she had already begun her inspection of the +hospital on shore. She never had any time to waste, and so she never +lost any. + +But the visit of a Commander-in-Chief must be returned; so the next day +Miss Nightingale set out on horseback, with a party of friends, for the +camp of the besiegers. M. Soyer, who was of the party, tells us that she +"was attired simply in a genteel amazone, or riding-habit, and had quite +a martial air. She was mounted upon a very pretty mare, of a golden +color, which, by its gambols and caracoling, seemed proud to carry its +noble charge. The weather was very fine. Our cavalcade produced an +extraordinary effect upon the motley crowd of all nations assembled at +Balaklava, who were astonished at seeing a lady so well escorted." + +The road was very bad, and crowded with people of every nationality, +riding horses, mules and asses, driving oxen and cows and sheep. Now +they passed a cannon, stuck in the mud, its escort prancing and yelling +around it; now a wagon overturned, its contents scattered on the road, +its owner sitting on the ground lamenting. Everywhere horses were +kicking and whinnying, men shouting and screaming. It is no wonder that +Miss Nightingale's pretty mare "of a golden color" got excited too, and +kicked and pranced with the rest; but her rider had not scampered over +English downs and jumped English fences for nothing, and the pretty +creature soon found that she, like everyone else, must obey the +Lady-in-Chief. + +The first hospital they came to was in the village of Kadikoi. After +inspecting it, and seeing what was needed, Miss Nightingale and her +party rode to the top of a hill near by; and here for the first time she +looked down on the actual face of war; saw the white tents of the +besiegers and in the distance the grim walls of the beleaguered city; +saw, too, the puffs of white smoke from trench and bastion, heard the +roar of cannon and the crackle of musketry. To the boy beside her no +doubt it was a splendid and inspiring sight; but Florence Nightingale +knew too well what it all meant, and turned away with a heavy heart. + +Lord Raglan, not having been warned of her coming, was away; so, after +visiting several small regimental hospitals, Miss Nightingale went on to +the General Hospital before Sebastopol. Here she found some hundreds of +sick and wounded. Word passed along the rows of cots that the "good lady +of Scutari" was coming to visit them, and everywhere she was greeted +with beaming smiles and murmurs of greeting and welcome. But when she +came out again, and passed along toward the cooking encampment, she was +recognized by some former patients of hers at the Barrack Hospital, and +a great shout of rejoicing went up; a shout so loud that the golden +mare capered again, and again had to learn who her mistress was. + +Now they approached the walls of Sebastopol; and Miss Nightingale, who +did not know what fear was, insisted upon having a nearer view of the +city. They came to a point from which it could be conveniently seen; but +here a sentry met them, and with a face of alarm begged them to +dismount. "Sharp firing going on here," he said, and he pointed to the +fragments of shell lying about; "you'll be sure to attract attention, +and they'll fire at you." + +Miss Nightingale laughed at his fears, but consented to take shelter +behind a stone redoubt, from which, with the aid of a telescope, she had +a good view of the city. + +But this was not enough. She must go into the trenches themselves. The +sentry was horrified. "Madam," said he, "if anything happens I call upon +these gentlemen to witness that I did not fail to warn you of the +danger." + +"My good young man," replied Miss Nightingale, "more dead and wounded +have passed through my hands than I hope you will ever see in the +battlefield during the whole of your military career; believe me, I have +no fear of death." + +They went on, and soon reached the Three-Mortar Battery, situated among +the trenches and very near the walls. And here M. Soyer had a great +idea, which he carried out to his immense satisfaction. You shall hear +about it in his own words: + +"Before leaving the battery, I begged Miss Nightingale as a favor to +give me her hand, which she did. I then requested her to ascend the +stone rampart next the wooden gun carriage, and lastly to sit upon the +centre mortar, to which requests she very gracefully and kindly acceded. +'Gentlemen,' I cried, 'behold this amiable lady sitting fearlessly upon +that terrible instrument of war! Behold the heroic daughter of +England--the soldier's friend!' All present shouted 'Bravo! hurrah! +hurrah! Long live the daughter of England!'" + +When Lord Raglan heard of this, he said that the "instrument of war" on +which she sat ought to be called "the Nightingale mortar." + +The 39th regiment was stationed close by; and seeing a lady--a strange +enough sight in that place--seated on a mortar, gazing calmly about her, +as if all her life had been spent in the trenches, the soldiers looked +closer, and all at once recognized the beloved Lady-in-Chief, the Angel +of the Crimea. They set up a shout that went ringing over the fields and +trenches, and startled the Russians behind the walls of Sebastopol; and +Miss Nightingale, startled too, but greatly touched and moved, came down +from her mortar and mounted her horse to ride back to Balaklava. + +It was a rough and fatiguing ride, and the next day she felt very tired; +but she was used to being tired, and never thought much of it, so she +set out to visit the General Hospital again. After spending several +hours there, she went on to the Sanatorium, a collection of huts high up +on a mountainside, nearly eight hundred feet above the sea. The sun was +intensely hot, the ride a hard one; yet she not only reached it this +day, but went up again the day after, to install three much-needed +nurses there; this done, she went on with her work in the hospitals of +Balaklava. But, alas! this time she had gone beyond even her strength. +She was stricken down suddenly, in the midst of her work, with the worst +form of Crimean fever. + +The doctors ordered that she should be taken to the Sanatorium. Amid +general grief and consternation she was laid on a stretcher, and the +soldiers for whom she had so often risked her life bore her sadly +through the streets of Balaklava and up the mountainside. A nurse went +with her, a friend held a white umbrella between her and the pitiless +sun, and poor little Thomas, "Miss Nightingale's man" as he had proudly +called himself, followed the stretcher, crying bitterly. Indeed, it +seemed as if everyone were crying. The rough soldiers--only she never +found them rough--wept like children. It was a sad little procession +that wound its way up the height, to the hut that had been set apart for +the beloved sufferer. It was a neat, airy cabin, set on the banks of a +clear stream. All about were spring buds and blossoms, and green, +whispering trees; it was just such a place as she would have chosen for +one of her own patients; and here, for several days, she lay between +life and death. + +The news spread everywhere; Florence Nightingale was ill--was dying! All +Balaklava knew it; soon the tidings came to Scutari, to her own +hospital, and the sick men turned their faces to the wall and wept, and +longed to give their own lives for hers, if only that might be. The news +came to England, and men looked and spoke--ay, and felt--as if some +great national calamity threatened. But soon the messages changed their +tone. The disease was checked; she was better; she was actually +recovering, and would soon be well. Then all the Crimea rejoiced, and at +Scutari they felt that spring had come indeed. + +While she still lay desperately ill, a visitor climbed the rugged height +to the Sanatorium, and knocked at the door of the little lonely hut. I +think you must hear about this visit from Mrs. Roberts, the nurse who +told M. Soyer about it: + +"It was about five o'clock in the afternoon when he came. Miss +Nightingale was dozing, after a very restless night. We had a storm that +day, and it was very wet. I was in my room sewing when two men on +horseback, wrapped in large guttapercha cloaks and dripping wet, knocked +at the door. I went out, and one inquired in which hut Miss Nightingale +resided. + +"He spoke so loud that I said: 'Hist! hist! don't make such a horrible +noise as that, my man,' at the same time making a sign with both hands +for him to be quiet. He then repeated his question, but not in so loud a +tone. I told him this was the hut. + +"'All right,' said he, jumping from his horse; and he was walking +straight in when I pushed him back, asking what he meant and whom he +wanted. + +"'Miss Nightingale,' said he. + +"'And pray who are you?' + +"'Oh, only a soldier,' was the reply, 'but I must see her--I have come a +long way--my name is Raglan--she knows me very well.' + +"Miss Nightingale overhearing him, called me in, saying: 'Oh! Mrs. +Roberts, it is Lord Raglan. Pray tell him I have a very bad fever, and +it will be dangerous for him to come near me.' + +"'I have no fear of fever or anything else,' said Lord Raglan. + +"And before I had time to turn round, in came his lordship. He took up a +stool, sat down at the foot of the bed, and kindly asked Miss +Nightingale how she was, expressing his sorrow at her illness, and +praising her for the good she had done for the troops. He wished her a +speedy recovery, and hoped she might be able to continue her charitable +and invaluable exertions, so highly appreciated by everyone, as well as +by himself. He then bade Miss Nightingale goodbye, and went away...." + +After twelve days Miss Nightingale was pronounced convalescent. The +doctors now earnestly begged her to return to England, telling her that +her health absolutely required a long rest, with entire freedom from +care. But she shook her head resolutely. Her work was not yet over; she +would not desert her post. Weak as she was, she insisted on being taken +back to Scutari; she would come back by and by, she said, and finish the +work in the Crimea itself. Sick or well, there was no resisting the +Lady-in-Chief. The stretcher was brought again, and eight soldiers +carried her down the mountainside and so down to the port of Balaklava. +The _Jura_ lay at the wharf; a tackle was rigged, and the stretcher +hoisted on board, the patient lying motionless but undaunted the while; +but this vessel proved unsuitable, and she had to be moved twice before +she was finally established on a private yacht, the _New London_. + +Before she sailed, Lord Raglan came to see her again. It was the last +time they ever met, for a few weeks after the brave commander died, worn +out by the struggles and privations of the war, and--some +thought--broken-hearted by the disastrous repulse of the British troops +at the Redan. + +Rather more than a month after she had left for the Crimea, Miss +Nightingale saw once more the towers and minarets of Constantinople +flashing across the Black-Sea water, and, on the other side of the +narrow Bosporus, the gaunt white walls which had come to seem almost +homelike to her. She was glad to get back to her Scutari and her people. +She knew she should get well here, and so she did. + +The welcome she received was most touching. All the great people, +commanders and high authorities, met her at the pier, and offered her +their houses, their carriages, everything they had, to help her back to +strength; but far dearer to her than this were the glances of weary eyes +that brightened at her coming, the waving of feeble hands, the cheers of +feeble voices, from the invalid soldiers who, like herself, were +creeping back from death to life, and who felt, very likely, that their +chance of full recovery was a far better one now that their angel had +come back to dwell among them. + +As strength returned, Miss Nightingale loved to walk in the great +burying ground of which I have told you; to rest under the cypress +trees, and watch the little birds, and pick wild flowers in that lovely, +lonely place. There are strange stories about the birds of Scutari, by +the way; the Turks believe that they are the souls of sinners, forced to +flit and hover forever, without rest; but it is not likely that thoughts +of this kind troubled Miss Nightingale, as she watched the pretty +creatures taking their bath, or pecking at the crumbs she scattered. + +Birds and flowers, green trees and soft, sweet air--all these things +ministered to her, and helped her on the upward road to health and +strength; and before long she was able to take up again the work which +she loved, and which was waiting for her hand. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE CLOSE OF THE WAR. + + +The sun soared over the gulf, where the water, covered with ships at +anchor, and with sail- and row-boats in motion, played merrily in its +warm and luminous rays. A light breeze, which scarcely shook the leaves +of the stunted oak bushes that grew beside the signal station, filled +the sails of the boats, and made the waves ripple softly. On the other +side of the gulf Sebastopol was visible, unchanged, with its unfinished +church, its column, its quay, the boulevard which cut the hill with a +green band, the elegant library building, its little lakes of azure +blue, with their forests of masts, its picturesque aqueducts, and, above +all that, clouds of a bluish tint, formed by powder smoke, lighted up +from time to time by the red flame of the firing. It was the same proud +and beautiful Sebastopol, with its festal air, surrounded on one side by +the yellow smoke-crowned hills, on the other by the sea, deep blue in +color and sparkling brilliantly in the sun. At the horizon, where the +smoke of a steamer traced a black line, white, narrow clouds were +rising, precursors of a wind. Along the whole line of the +fortifications, along the heights, especially on the left side, spurted +out suddenly, torn by a visible flash, although it was broad daylight, +plumes of thick white smoke, which, assuming various forms, extended, +rose, and colored the sky with sombre tints. These jets of smoke came +out on all sides--from the hills, from the hostile batteries, from the +city--and flew toward the sky. The noise of the explosions shook the air +with a continuous roar. Toward noon these smoke puffs became rarer and +rarer, and the vibrations of the air strata became less frequent. + +"'Do you know that the second bastion is no longer replying?' said the +hussar officer on horseback, 'it is entirely demolished. It is +terrible!' + +"'Yes, and the Malakoff replies twice out of three times,' answered the +one who was looking through the field-glass. 'This silence is driving me +mad! They are firing straight on the Korniloff battery and that is not +replying.' + +"'There is a movement in the trenches; they are marching in close +columns.' + +"'Yes, I see it well,' said one of the sailors; 'they are advancing by +columns. We must set the signal.' + +"'But see, there--see! They are coming out of the trenches!' + +"They could see, in fact, with the naked eye black spots going down from +the hill into the ravine, and proceeding from the French batteries +toward our bastions. In the foreground, in front of the former, black +spots could be seen very near our lines. Suddenly, from different points +of the bastion at the same time, spurted out the white plumes of the +discharges, and, thanks to the wind, the noise of a lively fusillade +could be heard, like the patter of a heavy rain against the windows. The +black lines advanced, wrapped in a curtain of smoke, and came nearer. +The fusillade increased in violence. The smoke burst out at shorter and +shorter intervals, extended rapidly along the line in a single light, +lilac-colored cloud, unrolling and enlarging itself by turns, furrowed +here and there by flashes or rent by black points. All the noises +mingled together in the tumult of one continued roar. + +"'It is an assault,' said the officer, pale with emotion, handing his +glass to the sailor. + +"Cossacks and officers on horseback went along the road, preceding the +commander-in-chief in his carriage, accompanied by his suite. Their +faces expressed the painful emotion of expectation. + +"'It is impossible that it is taken!' said the officer on horseback. + +"'God in heaven--the flag! Look now!' cried the other, choked by +emotion, turning away from the glass. 'The French flag is in the +Malakoff mamelon!'" + + * * * * * + +It is thus that Tolstoi, the great Russian writer, describes the fall of +Sebastopol, as he saw it. At the same moment that the French were taking +the Malakoff redoubt, the British were storming the Redan, from which +they had been so disastrously repulsed three months before. The flags of +the allied armies floated over both forts, and in the night that +followed the Russians marched silently out of the fallen city, leaving +flames and desolation behind them. + +The war was over. The good news sped to England, and the great guns of +the Tower of London thundered out "Victory!" + +"Victory!" answered every arsenal the country over. "Victory!" rang the +bells in every village steeple. "Victory!" cried man, woman, and child +throughout the length and breadth of the land. But mingled with the +shouts of rejoicing was a deeper note, one of thankfulness that the +cruel war was done, and peace come at last. + +In these happy days Miss Nightingale's name was on all lips. What did +not England owe to her, the heroic woman who had offered her life, and +had all but lost it, for the soldiers of her country? What should +England do to show her gratitude? People were on fire to do something, +make some return to Florence Nightingale for her devoted services. From +the Queen to the cottager, all were asking: "What shall we do for her?" + +It was decided to consult her friends, the Sidney Herberts, as to the +shape that a testimonial of the country's love and gratitude should take +in order to be acceptable to Miss Nightingale. Mrs. Herbert, being +asked, replied: "There is but one testimonial which would be accepted by +Miss Nightingale. The one wish of her heart has long been to found a +hospital in London and to work it on her own system of unpaid nursing, +and I have suggested to all who have asked my advice in this matter to +pay any sums that they may feel disposed to give, or that they may be +able to collect, into Messrs. Coutts' Bank, where a subscription list +for the purpose is about to be opened, to be called the 'Nightingale +Hospital Fund,' the sum subscribed to be presented to her on her return +home, which will enable her to carry out her object regarding the reform +of the nursing system in England." + +Here was something definite indeed. A committee was instantly formed--a +wonderful committee, with "three dukes, nine other noblemen, the Lord +Mayor, two judges, five right honorables, foremost naval and military +officers, physicians, lawyers, London aldermen, dignitaries of the +Church, dignitaries of nonconformist churches, twenty members of +Parliament, and several eminent men of letters"[10]; and the +subscription was opened. How the money came pouring in! You would think +no one had ever spent money before. The rich gave their thousands, the +poor their pennies. There were fairs and concerts and entertainments of +every description, to swell the Nightingale fund; but the offering that +must have touched Miss Nightingale's heart most deeply was that of the +soldiers and sailors of England. "The officers and men of nearly every +regiment and many of the vessels contributed a day's pay."[11] That +meant more to her, I warrant, than any rich man's thousands. + +Before a year had passed, the fund amounted to over forty thousand +pounds; and there is no knowing how much higher it might have gone had +not Miss Nightingale herself come home and stopped it. + +That was enough, she said; if they wanted to give more money, they might +give it to the sufferers from the floods in France. + +But she did not come home at once; no indeed! The war might be over, but +her work was not, and she would never leave it while anything remained +undone. The war was over, but the hospitals, especially those of the +Crimea itself, were still filled with sick and wounded soldiers, and +until the formal peace was signed an "army of occupation" must still +remain in the Crimea. Miss Nightingale knew well that idleness is the +worst possible thing for soldiers (as for everyone); and while she +cared for the sick and wounded, she took as much pains to provide +employment and amusement for the rest. As soon as she had fully regained +her strength, she returned to the Crimea as she had promised to do, set +up two new camp hospitals, and established a staff of nurses, taking the +charge of the whole nursing department upon herself. These new hospitals +were on the heights above Balaklava, not far from where she had passed +the days of her own desperate illness. She established herself in a hut +close by the hospitals and the Sanatorium, and here she spent a second +winter of hard work and exposure. It was bitter cold up there on the +mountainside. The hut was not weather-proof, and they sometimes found +their beds covered with snow in the morning; but they did not mind +trifles like this. + +"The sisters are all quite well and cheerful," writes Miss Nightingale; +"thank God for it! They have made their hut look quite tidy, and put up +with the cold and inconveniences with the utmost self-abnegation. +Everything, even the ink, freezes in our hut every night." + +In all weathers she rode or drove over the rough and perilous roads, +often at great risk of life and limb. Her carriage being upset one day, +and she and her attendant nurse injured, a friend had a carriage made on +purpose for her, to be at once secure and comfortable. + +It was "composed of wood battens framed on the outside and basketwork. +In the interior it is lined with a sort of waterproof canvas. It has a +fixed head on the hind part and a canopy running the full length, with +curtains at the side to inclose the interior. The front driving seat +removes, and thus the whole forms a sort of small tilted wagon with a +welted frame, suspended on the back part on which to recline, and well +padded round the sides. It is fitted with patent breaks to the hind +wheels so as to let it go gently down the steep hills of the Turkish +roads."[12] + +This curious carriage is still preserved at Lea Hurst. Miss Nightingale +left it behind her when she returned to England, and it was about to be +sold, with other abandoned articles, when our good friend M. Soyer heard +of it; he instantly bought it, sent it to England, and afterwards had +the pleasure of restoring it to its owner. She must have been amused, I +think, but no doubt she was pleased, too, at the kindly thought. + +But this comfortable carriage only increased her labors, in one way, for +with it she went about more than ever. No weather was too severe, no +snowstorm too furious, to keep her indoors; the men needed her and she +must go to them. "She was known to stand for hours at the top of a bleak +rocky mountain near the hospitals, giving her instructions while the +snow was falling heavily. Then in the bleak dark night she would return +down the perilous mountain road with no escort save the driver."[13] + +It was not only for the invalids that Miss Nightingale toiled through +this second winter; much of her time was given to the convalescents and +those who were on active duty. She established libraries, and little +"reading huts," where the men could come and find the English magazines +and papers, and a stock of cheerful, entertaining books, carefully +chosen by the dear lady who knew so well what they liked. She got up +lectures, too, and classes for those who wished to study this or that +branch of learning; and she helped to establish a café at Inkerman, +where the men could get hot coffee and chocolate and the like in the +bitter winter weather. There really seems no end to the good and kind +and lovely things she did. I must not forget one thing, which may seem +small to some of you, but which was truly great in the amount of good +that came from it. Ever since she first came out to Scutari, she had +used all her influence to persuade the soldiers to write home regularly +to their families. The sick lads in the hospital learned that if they +would write a letter--just two or three lines, to tell mother or sister +that they were alive and doing well--and would send it to the +Lady-in-Chief, she would put a stamp on it and speed it on its way. So +now, in all the little libraries and reading huts, there were pens, ink +and paper, envelopes and stamps; and when Miss Nightingale looked in at +one of these cheerful little gathering places, we may be sure that she +asked Jim or Joe whether he had written to his mother this week, and +bade him be sure not to forget it. Does this seem to you a small thing? +Wait till you go away from home, and see what the letters that come +from home mean to you; then multiply that by ten, and you will know +partly, but not entirely, what your letters mean to those at home. It +has always seemed to me that this was a very bright star in Miss +Nightingale's crown of glory. + +The soldier's wife and child, mother and sister, were always in her +thoughts. Not only did she persuade the men to write home, but she used +all her great influence to induce them to send home their pay to their +families. At Scutari she had a money-order office of her own, and four +afternoons in each month she devoted to receiving money from the +soldiers who brought it to her, and forwarding it to England. It is +estimated that about a thousand pounds was sent each month, in small +sums of twenty or thirty shillings. "This money," says Miss Nightingale, +"was literally so much rescued from the canteen and drunkenness." + +After the fall of Sebastopol the British Government followed her +example, and set up money-order offices in several places, with +excellent results. + +Sometimes it was Miss Nightingale herself who wrote home to the +soldier's family; sad, sweet letters, telling how the husband or father +had done his duty gallantly, and had died as a brave man should; giving +his last messages, and inclosing the mementos he had left for them. To +many a humble home these letters brought comfort and support in the hour +of trial, and were treasured--are no doubt treasured to this day--like +the relics of a blessed saint. + +The Treaty of Peace was signed at Paris on March 30, 1856, and now all +hearts in the Crimea turned toward home. One by one the hospitals were +closed, as their inmates recovered strength; one by one the troopships +were filled with soldiers--ragged, gaunt, hollow-eyed, yet gay and +light-hearted as schoolboys--and started on the homeward voyage; yet +still the Lady-in-Chief lingered. Not while one sick man remained would +Florence Nightingale leave her post. Indeed, at the last moment she +found a task that none but herself might have taken up. The troopships +were gone; but here, on the camping ground before Sebastopol, were fifty +or sixty poor women, left behind when their husbands' regiments had +sailed, helpless and--I was going to say friendless, but nothing could +be more untrue; for they gathered in their distress round the hut of +the Lady-in-Chief, imploring her aid; and she soon had them on board a +British ship, speeding home after the rest. + +And now the end had come, and there was only one more thing to do, one +more order to give; the result of that last order is seen to-day by all +who visit that far-away land of the Crimea. On the mountain heights +above Balaklava, on a peak not far from the Sanatorium where she labored +and suffered, towers a great cross of white marble, shining like snow +against the deep blue sky. This is the "Nightingale Cross," her own +tribute to the brave men and the devoted nurses who died in the war. At +the foot of the cross are these words: + + "Lord have mercy upon us." + + +To every Englishman--nay, to everyone of any race who loves noble +thoughts and noble deeds--this monument will always be a sacred and a +venerable one. + +In the spring of this year, Lord Ellesmere, speaking before Parliament, +said: + +"My Lords, the agony of that time has become a matter of history. The +vegetation of two successive springs has obscured the vestiges of +Balaklava and of Inkerman. Strong voices now answer to the roll call, +and sturdy forms now cluster round the colors. The ranks are full, the +hospitals are empty. The angel of mercy still lingers to the last on the +scene of her labors; but her mission is all but accomplished. Those long +arcades of Scutari, in which dying men sat up to catch the sound of her +footstep or the flutter of her dress, and fell back on the pillow +content to have seen her shadow as it passed, are now comparatively +deserted. She may be thinking how to escape, as best she may, on her +return, the demonstration of a nation's appreciation of the deeds and +motives of Florence Nightingale." + +This was precisely what the Lady-in-Chief was thinking. She meant to +return to England as quietly as she left it; and she succeeded. The +British Government begged her to accept a man-of-war as her own for the +time being; she was much obliged, but would rather not. She went over to +Scutari, saw the final closing of the hospitals there, and took a silent +farewell of that place of many memories; then stepped quietly on board a +French vessel, and sailed for France. A few days later--so the story +goes--a lady quietly dressed in black, and closely veiled, entered the +back door of Lea Hurst. The old butler saw the intruder, and hastened +forward to stop her way--and it was "Miss Florence!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE TASKS OF PEACE. + + +Now, the people of England had been on tiptoe for some days with +eagerness, waiting to welcome the heroine of the Crimea back to her +native shores. They would give her such a reception as no one had ever +yet had in that land of hospitality and welcomings. She should have +bells and cannon and bonfires, processions and deputations and +addresses--she should have everything that anybody could think of. + +When they found that their heroine had slipped quietly through their +fingers, as it were, and was back in her own peaceful home once more, +people were sadly disappointed. They must give up the cannon and the +bonfires; but at least they might have a glimpse of her! So hundreds of +people crowded the roads and lanes about Lea Hurst, waiting and +watching. An old lady living at the park gate told Mrs. Tooley: "I +remember the crowds as if it was yesterday. It took me all my time to +answer them. Folks came in carriages and on foot, and there was titled +people among them, and a lot of soldiers, some of them without arms and +legs, who had been nursed by Miss Florence in the hospital, and I +remember one man who had been shot through both eyes coming and asking +to see Miss Florence. But not ten out of the hundreds who came got a +glimpse of her. If they wanted help about their pensions, they were told +to put it down in writing, and Miss Florence's maid came with an answer. +Of course she was willing to help everybody, but it stood to reason she +could not receive them all; why, the park wouldn't have held all the +folks that came, and besides, the old Squire wouldn't have his daughter +made a staring stock of."[14] + +After the first disappointment--which after all was perfectly +natural--all sensible people realized how weary Miss Nightingale must be +after her tremendous labors, and how much she must need rest. All who +knew her, too, knew that she never could abide public "demonstrations"; +so they left her in peace, and began sending her things, to show their +gratitude in a different way. The first gift of this kind she had +received before she left the Crimea, from good Queen Victoria herself. +This was "the Nightingale Jewel," as it is called; "a ruby-red enamel +cross on a white field, encircled by a black band with the words: +'Blessed are the merciful.' The letters V. R.; surmounted by a crown in +diamonds, are impressed upon the centre of the cross. Green enamel +branches of palm, tipped with gold, form the framework of the shield, +while around their stems is a riband of blue enamel, with the single +word 'Crimea.' On the top are three brilliant stars of diamonds. On the +back is an inscription written by the Queen." + +Another gift received on the scene of her labors was a magnificent +diamond bracelet sent her by the Sultan of Turkey. + +I do not know of any more jewels; but two gifts that Miss Nightingale +prized highly were a fine case of cutlery sent her by the workmen of +Sheffield, each knife blade inscribed with the words "Presented to +Florence Nightingale, 1857," and the silver-bound oak case inlaid with a +representation of the Good Samaritan; and a beautiful pearl-inlaid +writing desk, presented by her friends and neighbors near Lea Hurst. + +All these things were very touching; still more touching were the +letters that came from all over the country, thanking and blessing her +for all she had done. Truly it was a happy home coming. + +Miss Nightingale knew that she was very, very weary; she realized that +she must have a long rest, but she little thought how long it must be. +She, and all her friends, thought that after a few months she would be +able to take up again the work she so loved, and become the active +leader in introducing the new methods of nursing into England. But the +months passed, and grew from few to many, and still her strength did not +return. The next year, indeed, when the dreadful Indian Mutiny broke +out, she wrote to her friend Lady Canning, wife of the Governor-General +of India, offering to come at twenty-four hours' notice "if there was +anything to do in her line of business"; but Lady Canning knew that she +was not equal to such a task. + +Slowly, gradually, the truth came to Florence Nightingale: she was never +going to be strong or well again. Always delicate, the tremendous +labors of the Crimea had been too much for her. While the work went on, +the frail body answered the call of the powerful will, the undaunted +mind, the great heart; now that the task was finished, it sank down +broken and exhausted. Truly, she had given her life, as much as any +soldier who fought and died in the trenches or on the battlefield. + +And what did she do when she finally came to realize this? Did she give +up, and say, "My work on earth is done?" Not she! There may have been +some dark hours, but the world has never heard of them. She never for an +instant thought of giving up her work; she simply changed the methods of +it. The poor tired body must stay in bed or on the sofa; very well! But +the mind was not tired at all; the will was not weakened; the heart had +not ceased to throb with love and compassion for the sick, the +sorrowful, the suffering; the question was to find the way in which they +could work with as little trouble as might be to their poor sick friend +the body. + +The way was soon found. Whether at Lea Hurst or in London (for she now +spent a good deal of time in the great city, to be near the centre of +things), her sick room became one of the busiest places in all England. + +Schemes for army reform, for hospital reform, for reform in everything +connected with the poor and the sick--all these must be brought to Miss +Nightingale. All the soldiers in the country must write to her whenever +they wanted anything, from a pension down to a wooden leg (to their +honor be it said, however, that though she was overwhelmed with begging +letters from all parts of the country, not a soldier ever asked her for +money). The Nightingale fund, now nearly fifty thousand pounds, was +administered under her advice and direction, and the first Training +School for Nurses organized and opened. The old incapable, ignorant +nurse vanished, and the modern nurse, educated, methodical, clear-eyed +and clear-headed, took her place quietly; one of the great changes of +modern times was effected, and the hand that directed it was the same +one that we have seen holding the lamp, or writing down the dying +soldier's last words, in the Barrack Hospital at Scutari. + +That slender hand wrote books with all the rest of its work. In the sick +room as in the hospital, Miss Nightingale had no time to waste. Her +"Hospital Notes" may be read to-day with the keenest interest by all who +care to know more of that great story of the Crimean War; her "Notes on +Nursing" became the handbook of the Nursing Reform, and ought to be in +the hands of every nurse to-day as it was in 1860, when it was written. +Nor in the hands of nurses only; I wish every girl and every boy who +reads this story would try to find that slender, dingy volume in some +library, and "read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest" its contents. They +would know a good deal more than they do now. Well might Miss +Nightingale write, in 1861: "I have passed the last four years between +four walls, only varied to other four walls once a year; and I believe +there is no prospect but of my health becoming ever worse and worse till +the hour of my release. But I have never ceased, during one waking hour +since my return to England five years ago, laboring for the welfare of +the army at home, as I did abroad, and no hour have I given to +friendship or amusement during that time, but all to work." + +Drop a stone in the water and see how the circles spread, growing wider +and wider. After a while you cannot see them, but you know that the +motion you have started must go on and on till it whispers against the +pebbles on the farther shore. So it is with a good deed or an evil one; +we see its beginning; we cannot see what distant shore it may reach. So, +no one will ever know the full amount of good that this noble woman has +done. The Sanitary Commission of our own Civil War, the Red Cross which +to-day counts its workers by thousands in every part of the civilized +world, both owed their first impulse to the pebble dropped by Florence +Nightingale--even her own life, given freely to suffering humanity. + +I have never seen, but I like to think of the quiet room in London, +where she lies to-day in the white beauty of her age. Nearly ninety +years have passed since the little girl-baby woke to life among the +blossoms of the City of Flowers; more than half a century has gone by +since the Lady with the Lamp passed like light along the corridors of +the Barrack Hospital; yet still Florence Nightingale lives and loves, +still her thoughts go out in tenderness and compassion toward all who +are "in trouble, sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity." + +Let us think of that quiet room as one of the holy places of the earth; +let us think of her, and take our leave of her, with loving and thankful +hearts. + +THE END. + + +STORIES FOR YOUNG READERS + +=JOURNEYS OF THE KIT KAT CLUB.= _Illustrated. 8vo. $2.00 Net._ + + By William R. A. Wilson. + +A beautifully illustrated volume filled with interesting and salient +features of English history, folk-lore, politics, and scenery. + +=BUTT CHANLER, FRESHMAN.= _Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50._ + + By James Shelley Hamilton, Amherst '06. + +College sports are always a subject of interest to young readers, and +here are incidents that are dear to all college associates. + +"The story is breezy, bright, and clean."--_The Bookseller, New York_. + +=WILLIAMS OF WEST POINT.= _Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50._ + + By Lieut. Hugh S. Johnson. + +A story of West Point under the old code. "Every boy with red blood in +his veins will pronounce it a corker."--_The Globe, Boston._ + +=THE SUBSTITUTE.= _Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50._ + + By Walter Camp. + +"Presents the ideal to football enthusiasts. The author's name is +guarantee of the accuracy of descriptions of the plays."--_The Courant, +Hartford, Conn._ + +=THE FOREST RUNNERS.= _Illustrated in Color. 12mo. $1.50._ + + By Joseph A. Altsheler. + +This story deals with the further adventures of the two young woodsmen +in the history of Kentucky who were heroes in "The Young Trailers." The +story is full of thrills to appeal to every boy who loves a good story. + + +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. + + + + +TWO GOOD NOVELS. + + +=Cy Whittaker's Place.= + +A Novel of Cape Cod Life, by Joseph C. Lincoln, Author of "Mr. Pratt," +"Cap'n Eri," etc. 27 illustrations by Wallace Morgan, colored inlay on +cover. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. + + Cape Cod life, as pictured by Joseph C. Lincoln, is delightful in + its homeliness, its wholesomeness, its quaint simplicity. The plot + of this novel revolves around a little girl whom an old bachelor, + Cy Whittaker, adopts. Her education is too stupendous a task for + the old man to attempt alone, so he calls in two old cronies and + they form a "Board of Strategy." A dramatic story of unusual merit + then develops, and through it all runs that rich vein of humor + which has won for the author a fixed place in the hearts of + thousands of readers. Cy Whittaker is the David Harum of Cape Cod. + + +=The Whispering Man.= + +A Detective Story Worth While, by Henry Kitchell Webster. Frontispiece. +12mo. Decorated cloth, $1.50. + + A detective story you ought to read. Something altogether + _different_ in that the clues to the mystery lie open to the reader + throughout the whole story, and are yet so concealed that the + unsuspecting reader is amazed at the outcome. To those who have + tired of the ordinary type of detective story, we commend this + _different_ novel as most refreshing. + + +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. + + +NOVELS BY ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. + +=SPECIAL MESSENGER.= _Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50._ + +A romantic love story of a woman spy in the Civil War. + +=THE FIRING LINE.= _Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50._ + +"The tale is rich in vivid descriptions, pleasing incidents, effective +situations, human interest and luxurious scenic effects. It is a story +to be remembered."--_Grand Rapids Herald._ + +=THE YOUNGER SET.= _Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50._ + +"The Younger Set" is a novel of the swirl of wealthy New York society. +The hero, forced out of the army by domestic troubles, returns to New +York homeless and idle. He finds a beautiful girl who promises ideal +happiness. But new complications intervene and are described with what +the New York _Sun_ calls Mr. Chambers' "amazing knack of narrative." + +=THE FIGHTING CHANCE.= _Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50._ + +One of the most brilliant pictures of wealthy American society ever +painted; one of the most interesting and appealing stories ever written; +one of the most widely read of all American novels. + +=SOME LADIES IN HASTE.= _Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50._ + +Mr. Chambers has written most delightfully, and in his charming satire +depicts the plight of five society girls and five clubmen. + +=IOLE.= _Illustrated. Cloth, $1.25._ + +"Think of eight pretty girls in pink silk pajamas and sunbonnets, +brought up in innocence in a scientific Eden, with a 'House Beautiful' +in the back-ground, and a poetical father in the foreground. Think again +of those rose-petalled creations turned loose upon New York society and +then enjoy the fun of it all in 'Iole.'"--_Boston Herald._ + +=THE TRACER OF LOST PERSONS.= _Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50._ + +The captivating account of the strangely absorbing adventures of a +"matrimonial sleuth," "a deputy of Cupid." + +"Compared with him Sherlock Holmes is clumsy and without human +emotions."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._ + +=THE TREE OF HEAVEN.= _Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50._ + +If you looked squarely into a mirror and saw your PROFILE instead of +your full face, _if you suddenly found yourself 25 miles away from +yourself_, you would be in one of the tantalizing situations that give +fascination to this charming book. + +=THE RECKONING.= _Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50._ + +A story of northern New York during the last fierce fights between +Tories and Revolutionaries and the Iroquois Indians, by which tribe the +hero had been adopted. + +"It would be but an unresponsive American that would not thrill to such +relations."--_New York Times._ + + +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. + +BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR + +=The New Boy at Hilltop= + + Illustrated in Colors, Ornamental Cloth Cover with Inlay in Colors, + 12mo, $1.50. + + The story of a boy's experiences at boarding school. The first + chapter describes his arrival and reception by the others. The + remaining chapters tell of his life on the football field, on the + crew, his various scrapes and fights, school customs and school + entertainments. His experiences are varied and cover nearly all the + incidents of boarding school life. + + +=Winning His "Y"= + +Illustrated in Colors, 12mo, Decorated Cloth Cover, $1.50. + + The scene of this story is Yardley Hall, the school made famous in + "Double Play" and "Forward Pass!"; and we meet again the manly, + self-reliant Dan Vinton, his young friend Gerald Pennimore, and + many others of the "old boys" whose athletic achievements and other + doings have been so entertainingly chronicled by Mr. Barbour. The + new story is thus slightly connected with its predecessors, but + will be fully as interesting to a boy who has not read them as if + it were not. + + +=Double Play= + +Illustrated in Colors, 12mo, Cloth, $1.50. + + Further experiences of Dan Vinton--hero of "Forward Pass!"--at + Yardley Hall. He becomes in a way the mentor of the millionaire's + son, Gerald Pennimore, who enters the school. There is the + description of an exciting baseball game, and the stratagem by + which the wily coach, Payson, puts some ginger into an overtrained + squad and develops from it a winning team will appeal to every boy. + + +=Forward Pass!= + +Illustrated in Colors, 12mo, Cloth, $1.50. + + In his new story, Mr. Barbour returns to the field of his earlier + and more successful stories, such as "The Half-Back," "Captain of + the Crew," etc. The main interest in "Forward Pass!" centers about + the "new" football; the story is, nevertheless, one of + preparatory-school life and adventures in general. The book + contains several illustrations and a number of diagrams of the + "new" football plays. Mr. Barbour considers this his best story. + + +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK + + +BY WALTER CAMP + + +=Jack Hall at Yale= + +Illustrated in Colors, 12mo, Cloth, $1.50. + +This is a story following, but not distinctly a sequel to, Mr. Camp's +successful juvenile, "The Substitute." It is a story dealing principally +with football in college, but including rowing and other sports. Mr. +Camp's idea in this book is to give a little more of a picture of +college life and the relations, friendships, enmities, etc., of the +students rather than to tell nothing but a football story. In other +words, the book is more of an attempt at the "Tom Brown at Rugby" idea +than a purely athletic story, although the basis of the story, as in +"The Substitute," is still athletics. + + +=The Substitute= + +Illustrated in Colors, 12mo, Cloth, $1.50. + +It describes vividly the efforts of the coaches in "whipping" the +football team of a great university into shape for the season's +struggles. The whole story is completely realistic--the talks of the +coaches to the team; the discussion of points and tactics in the game; +the details of individual positions; the daily work on the field. + +Who can tell of Yale traditions, Yale ideals, and the militant Yale +spirit--which the famous author has marshaled on a hundred football +fields--as well as Walter Camp? + + "Those interested in the great college game of football will find a + most fascinating tale in 'The Substitute,' of which Walter Camp, + the well-known coach and authority on the game, is the + author."--_Brooklyn Eagle._ + + +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: "By the Alma River," by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik.] + +[Footnote 2: "Charge of the Light Brigade," by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.] + +[Footnote 3: Tooley, "Life of Florence Nightingale," p. 137.] + +[Footnote 4: Tooley, "Life of Florence Nightingale," p. 126.] + +[Footnote 5: "Santa Filomena," by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.] + +[Footnote 6: Kinglake, "Invasion of the Crimea."] + +[Footnote 7: "Hiawatha," by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.] + +[Footnote 8: Tooley, "Life of Florence Nightingale," p. 154.] + +[Footnote 9: Rachel was a famous French actress, but I cannot imagine +any real resemblance between her and Miss Nightingale.] + +[Footnote 10: Tooley, "Life of Florence Nightingale," p. 220.] + +[Footnote 11: Tooley, "Life of Florence Nightingale," p. 223.] + +[Footnote 12: Tooley, "Life of Florence Nightingale," p. 229.] + +[Footnote 13: Tooley, "Life of Florence Nightingale," pp. 231-32.] + +[Footnote 14: Tooley, "Life of Florence Nightingale," p. 240.] + + +Transcriber's notes: + +_Underscores_ show where _italic_ fonts were used in the original printed book. + +=Equals signs= show where =bold= fonts were used in the original printed book. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Florence Nightingale the Angel of the +Crimea, by Laura E. Richards + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43898 *** |