To Miss Gilbert.
No. 1040 Penn Street,
Reading, Pennsylvania, U.S.A.,
13th September 1869.I take the liberty of addressing you as one who has taken so philanthropic an interest in the blind. About the mid-winter of '62-3 I was travelling in Idaho Territory, and, owing to the severe effects of the "glare" produced by the sun's rays upon the snow, my sight received so severe a shock that I became temporarily blind. Afterwards I partially recovered my sight; but through the want of skill in my medical attendant and general improper treatment, the optic nerve became entirely and, as I fear, hopelessly paralysed. I am now completely deprived of sight. Being thus, unfortunately, among those with whom you so greatly sympathise, I too, losing in my full-grown manhood, this perhaps most benign of the Great Father's gifts to poor humanity, feel a strong personal interest in my fellow-sufferers.
Understanding then that you have successfully established an "Association for the General Welfare of the Blind," in which each occupant is finally paid for his labour, in contradistinction to the usual plan of blind asylums, where there is no remuneration, except what education may afford, I purpose attempting a similar enterprise.
Will I therefore be taxing your kindness too much in asking you to forward to me to this place (as headed) the last report of your noble institution, and, if not contained therein, such instructions as will enable me to establish such institution in this country? And praying that the Good God may prosper you in your benevolent designs, I remain, with the greatest respect, your obt. servt.,
Theodore B. Vache.
A bright letter to the present writer shows Bessie in a playful mood. It was written after her return from Folkstone, and when health and spirits were much better than they had been in July. But locomotion had become very difficult; and it was painful to witness her laboured efforts to move and walk, and the difficulty she experienced in getting into or out of a cab or carriage.
The Palace, Chichester, October 1869.
My dear F.—I hope you will soon receive another polling paper. I suppose you did not pay your subscription last year, and so paid for two years in one. If I were as clever as Mr. Lowe perhaps I should contrive to squeeze a little more out of our subscribers, and make them all the while feel that it was the most natural thing in the world that they should make double payments. This is the way to do business, is it not? Double payments, bringing about double receipts; very nice thing, you know, for the receivers; and as to the other side of the question, why, you know, we needn't look too closely into that. You see many persons are quite unable to look at more than one side of a question, so that limited views have their advantages. Does Mr. Lowe think so?
Well, I should hope very much to see you and Miss B. on Thursday, and if you can't have me, please just write to 210 Oxford Street and say so, and then I will tell you where to come. I don't know yet where I shall be, but very probably at Miss R.'s at 117 Gloster Terrace. Love to Miss B. From yours affectionately,
E. Gilbert.
At this time Bessie was warmly interested in, and very hopeful as to the results of, Mr. Gladstone's efforts on behalf of Ireland, and referred frequently to the subject. In the following letter to her sister, Mrs. Elliot, there is a mention of orders for work. She was unable on account of the state of her health to write as much as usual, and therefore gave more time to knitting vests and muffetees, and making watch chains. The money received for them went to her "work-bag," and helped to relieve the necessities of deserving blind people:
The Palace, Chichester, 23d December 1869.
My dear Kate—I send you my loving Christmas greetings with some of the home violets to sweeten them withal. It was very tantalising seeing you, or rather not seeing you, like that in London. I was so glad you thought I moved better. I do, and it is such a comfort I can't tell you. Still I find a difference directly if I get too much tired. I had hoped to have had some muffetees ready for you, but must do them afterwards, as I have had to knit two under-vests as an order, and have not yet finished the second. You cannot think how wonderfully well papa got through the ordination. Dr. Heurtley, who presided, was quite astonished. Only think of it, H. is coming on Monday for a week. I am so very glad of it. No time for more, your loving sister,
Bessie Gilbert.
Bishop Gilbert's health had slowly but very steadily declined after the death of his wife in 1863. He was surrounded by the loving care of daughters devoted to him. But the loss of the friend and partner of his whole life was one from which he never recovered.
Bessie was the only member of the family not keenly alive to the failure of her father's health. Partly, no doubt, owing to her blindness, and partly to the effort that the Bishop always made to be bright and cheerful in the society of his "dear child Bessie," she did not perceive how seriously the burden of work and responsibility told upon him. The sisters at home were glad to spare her the anxiety which they felt, and she passed the Christmas time of 1869-70 without alarm and without that sense of impending loss which was weighing heavily upon others. When at last the blow came it fell suddenly, and fell heavily upon her, and was not softened by any sense of relief that the burden of his life was removed.
She had gone to London for the Deputation to Lord de Grey on the 10th of February 1870, and was still there when she was summoned to Chichester by telegram on Sunday the 20th.
The sisters at home had been conscious for some days of a greater sense of uneasiness than usual, but there was nothing definite to take hold of. The Bishop came down as usual to the dining-room on Friday the 18th. On Saturday the 19th he kept his room for the early part of the day, and dined in the morning-room, that room adjoining his own in which Bessie used to spend so much time with her mother when first they went to Chichester. The absent sons and daughters were informed of this failure of strength on Saturday morning, but there were no alarming symptoms until the evening. Then and on the following morning, Sunday the 20th, telegrams summoned them to Chichester without delay. Bessie reached the palace about 10 P.M. on Sunday. Her father recognised her, but he was by that time too weak to speak. There were no last words, and he sank peacefully to his rest, dying at 5 A.M. on Monday, 21st February 1870.
Bessie had left home without even a suspicion that she might be recalled by a sudden summons, and now it seemed to her impossible that her father's death should precede her own, and that a loss that she had not dared even to think of, should have fallen upon her. She was stunned by the blow, but she bore it with characteristic and Christian courage, patience, and submission.