“Never came from any of them one word nor 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 rose 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.”
Having transcribed the Queen’s letter, this may be a good place for adding from the letters of Sister Aloysius a little instance of Her Majesty’s homely kindness to her troops whenever she heard of any need which she could supply:—
“When Miss Stanley reached England, Her Majesty the Queen (anxious, of course, to hear all about her soldiers) sent for her; and when the interview was nearly over Her Majesty asked her what she thought the poor soldiers would like—she was anxious to send them a present. Miss Stanley said: ‘Oh, I do know what they would like—plenty of flannel shirts, mufflers, butter, and treacle.’ Her Majesty said they must have all these things; and they did come out in abundance: Kullali got its share of the gifts. But the very name of butter or treacle was enough for the doctors: they said they would not allow it into the wards, because it would be going about in bits of paper and daubing everything. So Rev. Mother at once interposed, and said if the doctors allowed it, she would have it distributed in a way that could give no trouble. They apologized, and said they should have known that, and at once left everything to her. Each Sister got her portion of butter and treacle (which were given only to the convalescent patients), and when the bell rang every evening for tea she stood at the table in the centre of the ward, and each soldier walked over and got his bread buttered, and some treacle if he wished spread on like jam. We told them it was a gift from the Queen; and if Her Majesty could only have seen how gratified they were it would have given her pleasure. One evening Lady Stratford, and some distinguished guests who were staying at the Embassy, came, and were much pleased to see how happy and comfortable the men were, and how much they enjoyed Her Majesty’s gifts.”
CHAPTER XIV.
Letters from Scutari—Kinglake on Miss Nightingale and her dynasty—The refusal of a new contingent.
Miss Nightingale’s saving sense of humour gleams forth in her letters in the most delightful way, even in the darkest days. In the following, something of the hugeness of her task is dimly seen through the comic background of the unbecoming cap that “If I’d known, ma’am, I wouldn’t have come, ma’am.” Here is the letter just as it is given in Lord Herbert’s life. It begins abruptly, evidently quoting from a conversation just held with one of the staff nurses:—
“‘I came out, ma’am, prepared to submit to everything, to be put upon in every way. But there are some things, ma’am, one can’t submit to. There is the caps, ma’am, that suits one face and some that suits another; and if I’d known, ma’am, about the caps, great as was my desire to come out to nurse at Scutari, I wouldn’t have come, ma’am.’—Speech of Mrs. L., Barrack Hospital, Scutari, Asiatic Side, November 14, 1854.
“Time must be at a discount with the man who can adjust the balance of such an important question as the above, and I for one have none, as you will easily suppose when I tell you that on Thursday last we had 1,175 sick and wounded in this hospital (among whom 120 cholera patients), and 650 severely wounded in the other building, called the General Hospital, of which we also have charge, when a message came to me to prepare for 510 wounded on our side of the hospital, who were arriving from the dreadful affair of November 5, from Balaclava, in which battle were 1,763 wounded and 442 killed, besides 96 officers wounded and 38 killed. I always expected to end my days as a hospital matron, but I never expected to be barrack mistress. We had but half an hour’s notice before they began landing the wounded. Between one and nine o’clock we had the mattresses stuffed, sewn up, laid down (alas! only upon matting on the floor), the men washed and put to bed, and all their wounds dressed.