We then passed before the Godfrey Tower, proudly standing on its rocky shore, at the base of which myriads of tombstones stagger about in pompous disorder, under the shady wings of multitudes of dark cypress-trees, the solemn guardians of this land of repose. Then we came to the Sweet Waters of Asia, where thousands of Turks and Turkish ladies resort on their days of festival. We next passed Therapia, where all the foreign ambassadors reside in summer; and I exchanged a few words with Miss Nightingale respecting the Naval Hospital there. Buyukderé, the Brighton of Constantinople, came next; and the large marble palace on our right, built, but never finished, by Ibrahim Pacha, and that of the Sultan Valide, the Giant’s Mountain. Ten minutes after, we entered the Euxine or Black Sea, full sail, with a fair wind and fine weather.
The Oriental coast had partly disappeared, and every one was anxious to inspect his fellow-passengers, and find out whether he had any friends on board. The vessel was crammed with military men and Government officials, besides about six hundred troops. Having the pleasure of knowing many of the officers, a general conversation relating to the war soon commenced. Miss Nightingale had retired, with, several of her Sisters, to their apartment, and very few persons were aware of the fact of her being on board, and they were all very anxious to see her; but evening came on, and we were not again favoured with her presence that day. The next day being Sunday, Miss Nightingale and myself, accompanied by the captain, went round the lower deck to visit the soldiers, who were busily employed making their pudding. Having questioned them upon their method of cooking, and visited the cook-house, I at once perceived what facilities were offered to me for making an immense amelioration in the present system of naval cookery, especially in the method of cooking salt meat, &c. (See naval recipes in [Addenda].) I took the opportunity of giving them a few hints. Miss Nightingale heard that there were some invalids on board, and she asked to see them. One poor fellow, who had been suffering from an attack of fever since our departure, refused to take his medicine. Miss Nightingale asked the reason of his objection. He replied, “Because I took some once, and it made me sick; and I haven’t liked physic ever since.”
We could not help laughing at his simple remark. Miss Nightingale said, “But if I give it you myself, you will take it, wont you?”
The soldier, looking very hard at her, replied, “Well, sure enough, ma’am, it will make me sick just the same.” For all that he took the medicine, and seemed to feel very grateful. None but an eye-witness or a disinterested observer can judge of the effect produced by a female’s attention to the sick soldier. Far from home, he seems to hear the voice of her who nursed him in childhood—a mother or sister. He will listen to and receive advice, finding sudden relief from the cheering accents of a woman’s lips, while he would scarcely take the slightest notice of the kindest orderly’s attentions. The man was not aware that it was Miss Nightingale. A woman’s friendly voice had spoken to his heart, and he felt more composed.
The sun darted his rays almost perpendicularly upon the deck of the beautiful ship, the Robert Lowe, which glided rather than floated over that inconstant ocean—the whimsical Mother Black Sea, called in French “La Mère Noire,” who safely bore her children upon her tranquil bosom in the morning, and at night rocked the cradle with such furious love, that she changed the smile of comfort to sickness and tears in the evening. The sails were furled, and the awning was now stretched amidships. About twelve o’clock all the soldiers, under command of Major Campbell, about six hundred in number, met upon deck; and divine service was read by the Major himself. Miss Nightingale, Mr. Bracebridge, myself, and all the officers on board, were present. Nothing recurs more vividly to my recollection than the impression made upon my mind by that religious ceremony, performed so solemnly, between heaven and the ocean. It appeared as though all were impressed with the sacred mission they were called upon to fulfil, and that every brave fellow present was saying his last prayer, and preparing himself in case of emergency, should it be his fate to succumb on the field of battle in the defence of his country, to appear with a free and pure conscience before his Creator, in whose hands alone are the issues of life and death. Many of those poor fellows afterwards paid that tribute to their country. Such are the chances of war. This ceremony, though not performed by a clergyman, had such an effect upon my mind, that I shall never forget it.
The remainder of the afternoon was passed on deck, and as it was a day of rest and delightful weather, we were favoured with the company of the ladies, including that of Miss Nightingale.
Although I had frequently conversed with Miss Nightingale upon business transactions, this was the first and best opportunity I had of appreciating her amiable character and interesting powers of conversation. For more than an hour I talked with her, upon the deck of the good ship Robert Lowe. The subject was her duty, not of what she had already done, but of what she was about to do. She gave me good advice as to the best way for me to proceed in my new undertaking. “Monsieur Soyer,” she said, “you will find everything very different in the Crimea to what it was at Scutari, though you had there a great many difficulties, the distance from supplies being so much greater.” We then arranged that as soon as we were a little organized, our first visit should be to the General Hospital and the Sanatorium, next to the General Camp Hospital before Balaklava. The first thing Miss Nightingale did after our arrival was to write to the commander-in-chief, Lord Raglan, announcing it. I remarked that I had an official letter to his lordship from the War Department.
“I am aware of that, Monsieur Soyer, and that you and Mr. Bracebridge should go to head-quarters together the day we arrive; but it is important his lordship should be immediately acquainted by letter of our arrival.”
“Well, Mademoiselle,” said I, “you have been in the military service longer than I have, and I am not surprised at your being better acquainted with the rules of war than myself.” Miss Nightingale smiled kindly at the remark.
Having had the honour and the opportunity of seeing Miss Nightingale almost daily for above a year, my readers will no doubt be pleased, and feel interested, by my giving a short description of this estimable lady, whose fame in this war has been almost universal.