CHAPTER XVII.
Miss Nightingale visits Balaclava—Her illness—Lord Raglan’s visit—The Fall of Sebastopol.
At last, in the May of 1855, the Lady-in-Chief was able to see such fruits of the six months’ steady work at Scutari that the scene of her labours could be changed, and she set out for Balaclava to inspect the other hospitals, for which, as superintendent of the ladies in the military hospitals in the East, she was responsible. She wished to see for herself what was being done for the soldiers on the field. Besides Mr. Bracebridge and her nursing staff, M. Soyer accompanied her with a view to improving the cooking arrangements for the army in the field, and he writes with his usual vividness:—
“Thomas, Miss Nightingale’s boy, the twelve-year-old drummer who had left what he called his ‘instrument sticks’ to make himself her most devoted slave and messenger, was also allowed to go.
“At nine,” says M. Soyer, “we were all on shore and mounted. There were about eight of us ready to escort our heroine to the seat of war. Miss Nightingale 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 colour 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 Balaclava, who were astonished at seeing a lady so well escorted. It was not so, however, with those who knew who the lady was.”
Later he gives us a most characteristic glimpse of the light-hearted courage and high spirit of his Lady-in-Chief:—
“Mr. Anderson proposed to have a peep at Sebastopol. It was four o’clock, and they were firing sharply on both sides. Miss Nightingale, to whom the offer was made, immediately accepted it; so we formed a column and, for the first time, fearlessly faced the enemy, and prepared to go under fire. P. M. turned round to me, saying quietly, but with great trepidation, ‘I say, Monsieur Soyer, of course you would not take Miss Nightingale where there will be any danger?’ ... The sentry then repeated his caution, saying, ‘Madam, even where you stand you are in great danger; some of the shot reach more than half a mile beyond this!’ ... ‘My good young man,’ replied Miss Nightingale in French, ‘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!’”
By a little guile the eager Frenchman led the unsuspecting idol of the troops into a position where she could be well seen by the soldiers; and while she was seated on the Morta, in view of them all, it hardly needed his own dramatic outcry for a salutation to “the Daughter of England” to call forth the ringing cheers which greeted her from the men of the 39th Regiment, and the shouts were taken up so loudly by all the rest that the Russians were actually startled by them at Sebastopol.
The darkness fell quickly, and half-way back to Balaclava Miss Nightingale and her party found themselves in the midst of a merry Zouave camp, where the men were singing and drinking coffee, but warned our friends that brigands were in the neighbourhood. However, there was nothing for it but to push on, and, as a matter of fact, the only wound received was from the head of Miss Nightingale’s horse, which hit violently against the face of her escort at the bridle rein, who kept silence that he might not alarm her, but was found with a face black and bleeding at the end of the journey.
After her night’s rest in her state-cabin in the Robert Lowe, though still feeling used up with the adventurous visit to the camp hospitals, Miss Nightingale visited the General Hospital at Balaclava and the collection of huts on the heights, which formed the sanatoria, and also went to see an officer ill with typhus in the doctors’ huts. She renewed her visit next day, when, after a night at Balaclava, she settled three nurses into the sanatorium, and then for some days continued her inspection of hospitals and moved into the ship London, the Robert Lowe having been ordered home.