Colonel Inglis had been left behind to bring out the garrison, which he did at night without the loss of any men. It was an immense relief to Mrs. Inglis when he reached the camp in safety. The next day they started on their march, the great procession of carriages and carts with the women, children, and luggage, guarded by the soldiers. They could only move very slowly and often had to stop because the carriages and carts got hemmed together. Several days were spent in this way. Mrs. Inglis could not see her husband every day, and great was her joy when he could visit her for a few minutes. She tells how on Sundays, if he came, they read the service together, and how at another time she could have a quiet walk and talk with him. They passed through Cawnpore, where a bright moon shone on the ruined houses, and everything reminded them of the horrors that had taken place there a few months before, when their fellow-countrywomen with their children had been cruelly butchered by the rebels. Eighteen days after leaving Lucknow they reached the railway. It had been a most trying and fatiguing journey, especially for the sick and wounded, over rough roads, in crowded, jolting carts. The train took them to Allahabad, where they were received with enthusiastic cheering from the crowds gathered to greet them, a reception which Mrs. Inglis felt most overpowering. At last they were in a safe place and could rest. By degrees steamers carried them down the Ganges to Calcutta. Mrs. Inglis was glad to linger amongst the last, for her husband was at Cawnpore with the troops, and at Allahabad she could hear daily from him. She begged him to let her stay where she was, instead of going back to England, but he would not consent. As she travelled down the Ganges to Calcutta, a wearisome journey of three weeks in an overcrowded steamer, she heard from her fellow-passengers the stories of their hardships and losses. It was wonderful to think that she and her husband and three children were all safe. Strangely enough their dangers were not over yet, for the steamer that was taking them from Calcutta to England struck a rock and the passengers had to make their escape in small boats through the heavy surf. The waves were very high, and seemed as if they would swamp them, but little Johnny laughed merrily each time they broke over the boat. Fortunately they were picked up by a passing ship, and ultimately reached England in safety. Colonel Inglis stayed for some months in Cawnpore, but then his health broke down, which was not surprising after the terrible time he had been through. He was forced to ask for leave and was able to join his wife in England.
IX
FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE
Florence Nightingale, who has done so much to improve the nursing of the sick, was born on May 12, 1820, at Florence, in Italy, and was named after her birthplace. Her parents soon went back to live in England, where her father owned a country-house, called Lea Hurst, in Derbyshire. They spent their summers in Derbyshire, and in the autumn moved to Embley Park, in Hampshire, another house belonging to Mr. Nightingale. Florence grew up loving the country and the country people who lived round her home. As a little girl she was very fond of dolls, and used to pretend that they were ill, and nurse them, and bandage their broken limbs, with the greatest care and skill. She was devoted to animals and had many pets for whom she cared tenderly. Once, when she was out riding on her pony, she came upon an old shepherd whose dog had had his leg hurt by some mischievous boys. The shepherd thought that there was nothing to be done but to kill the dog to put it out of its misery. But Florence begged to be allowed to try to cure it. The leg proved not to be broken, and Florence poulticed it so cleverly that the dog was soon well again.
Photo: London Stereoscopic Co.
Florence Nightingale.
Florence was educated at home. Her father was very particular about her studies, and she learnt well and quickly. Even as a child she loved to visit sick people, and as soon as she was grown up, she spent most of her time in the cottages and in the village school. The old and the sick loved her visits, and her gentle, clever ways did much to ease their suffering. For the children, she invented all kinds of amusements, and delighted in playing with them. She also held a Bible class for the elder girls. So far her life had been spent much like that of many other English girls. She was pretty and charming and known to be very clever; she had travelled a good deal, and her home-life, with parents who delighted in her and one sister to whom she was devoted, was absolutely happy. But every year her interest in nursing the sick grew stronger. She had been much impressed by meeting Elizabeth Fry, and by hearing from her of the Institute of Kaiserswerth in Germany, where deaconesses were trained for nursing the sick poor. In order to find out how the sick were nursed in her own country, she visited some of the chief hospitals, and was grieved to find what ignorant, rough women the nurses were. They had no training, and did little for the comfort of the patients; the hospitals were dirty and badly kept, and the nurses were much given to drinking. Miss Nightingale also travelled in France, Germany, and Italy to visit the hospitals. There she found things on the whole much better, as the nursing was mostly done by nuns, or Sisters of Charity, religious women who had given their lives for the service of their fellow-creatures.
When she was twenty-nine, Miss Nightingale decided to go herself to Kaiserswerth to study nursing. She spent only a few months there, but she was delighted with what she saw and learned. Many years afterwards she wrote: “Never have I met with a higher love, a purer devotion than there. There was no neglect. The food was poor—no coffee but bean coffee—no luxury but cleanliness.” She was much loved at Kaiserswerth; and an English lady who was there eleven years afterwards was told that many of “the sick remembered much of her teaching, and some died happily, blessing her for having led them to Jesus.” Miss Nightingale wrote a little book about Kaiserswerth, in which she urged that women should be encouraged to work, and should be trained properly for their work. She herself at first used the knowledge that she had gained in tending the poor who lived near her own home. After a while, she moved to London that she might be able to help in other charitable work. She was interested in a Home that had been started for sick governesses, which she heard was in a very unsatisfactory condition, and went to live there herself, shutting herself off from all society that she might care for the sick women in the Home, and arrange for its proper management. She was not at all strong, and after a time grew ill from the strain of too much work and had to go back to the country to rest.
It was about this time that England and France declared war on Russia, and the Crimean War began. England had not been at war for forty years, and the army was in no way well prepared. The country rejoiced to hear of the victory of the Alma won over the Russians, but people learnt with indignation of the sufferings of the soldiers after the battle. Nothing was ready for the care of the wounded, even food and clothing were scarce. Letters from the Crimea told terrible stories of the sufferings of the men. The French had fifty Sisters of Mercy to tend their sick, but the English had no female nurses. In the Times newspaper, a long letter, giving an account of the terrible state of things, was published, which ended with these words: “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 none of the daughters of England, at this extreme hour of need, ready for such a work of mercy?” Many were stirred by this appeal and sent in offers of help to the War Office. Mr. Sidney Herbert, the Minister for War, was eager to send the needed help, but he felt that to send out women not trained for such work would be useless. He knew Miss Nightingale intimately, and it seemed to him that she was the one woman in England whose character and training fitted her to take the lead in this matter. He got the permission of the government to ask her to undertake the post of Superintendent of Nurses for the Crimea. Then he wrote to her to tell her the state of affairs. A large barrack hospital had been set apart for the sick and wounded soldiers at Scutari on the Bosphorus. Here the wounded were brought by ship from the Crimea. Masses of stores were being sent out, but there were no female nurses, and as women had never been employed to nurse soldiers, there were no experienced nurses ready to go, though many devoted women had offered their services. Mr. Herbert felt that there would be great difficulty in ruling the band of untrained nurses, and in making the new arrangements work smoothly with the medical and military authorities. He told Miss Nightingale that, if she would go, she should have full authority over the nurses, and the support of the government in all she might wish to do. He said that the whole success of the plan depended upon her willingness to go, and that her experience, her knowledge, her place in society gave her the power to do this work which no one else possessed. In those days it was quite a new thing to think of a lady being a nurse at all, and quite an unheard-of thing that a lady should go to nurse soldiers. Mr. Herbert thought that if this new plan succeeded, it would do an enormous amount of good both then and afterwards.
Miss Nightingale too, had read the letter in the Times, and was thinking over it in her home in the country. Before Mr. Herbert’s letter reached her, she wrote to him of her own accord offering her services to go as nurse to the hospitals at Scutari. The moment had come for which unconsciously she had been long preparing, and she was ready for the work which came to her. Her letter crossed Mr. Herbert’s. It was written on October 15, 1854, and immediately it was announced in the Times that Miss Nightingale had been appointed Superintendent of Nurses at Scutari. She at once set to work to collect the band of thirty-eight nurses whom she was to take out with her. There were a few Institutions in existence for training nurses, and to these Miss Nightingale appealed for volunteers. Twenty-four of those she took out came from such places. Six days after she had made her offer to go, she was ready to start with her band complete. They crossed the Channel to Boulogne, where the people had heard of their coming; the fishwives turned out to meet them, and insisted on carrying their bags from the boat to the train. They, too, were interested in the war where English and French soldiers were fighting side by side, and as they walked with them they begged the nurses to take care of any of their dear ones should they meet them. With tears and warm shakes of the hand they bade farewell to them, crying, “Long live the sisters,” as the train carried them away.