The people did not, however, know how illustrious the lady was, for Miss Nightingale preserved an incognito on her way to the camp. At that time there were only four ladies in the Crimea, excepting the sisters of mercy, who were never seen out, so there was great curiosity as the cavalcade approached headquarters to know who the lady was, and Mr. Bracebridge had to give evasive replies to enquiring officers.
Florence Nightingale’s ride to camp proved an adventurous one. The road was bad and not nearly wide enough for all the traffic. Crowds of many nationalities, together with a ceaseless stream of mules, horses, oxen, artillery waggons, cannon, infantry, and cavalry struggled over the uneven muddy road, drivers and officers shouting, horses kicking, sometimes a waggon overturned, and everybody in a state of turmoil. Miss Nightingale’s horse kicked and pranced in company with the horses of her escort, and but for a cool nerve and steady hand she would certainly have come to grief. But the skill in horsemanship which she had acquired as a girl amongst the hills and dales of Derbyshire now served her in good stead, and the ride was accomplished in safety.
The first halt was made at the hospital in a small Greek church at the village of Kadikoi. After a little tour of inspection Miss Nightingale and her party galloped up to the top of a high hill from which was visible a panorama of the camp, with its myriads of white tents dotted over the landscape. Now, indeed, she was in touch with that great bivouac of warfare which the wounded at the Barrack Hospital in Scutari had raved about in their fever wanderings. Upon the air came the roar of the cannon from Sebastopol, the sound of trumpets, the beating of drums, and the general din of military manœuvres. Around the martial plain rose the rugged heights of Balaclava with that valley of death sacred to the “noble six hundred”:—
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Florence Nightingale sat long on her horse, gazing afar at the stirring scene and then turned sadly away. She knew that hundreds of poor fellows away in yonder trenches were doomed to swell the ranks of the dead and wounded ere the siege of Sebastopol was ended.
Proceeding on her way to headquarters, Miss Nightingale called to inspect several of the small regimental hospitals. When at length the vicinity of Lord Raglan’s house was reached, Mr. Bracebridge, acting as advance guard, galloped forward, to announce the approach of the Lady-in-Chief, only to find, however, that the Commander-in-Chief, who had not received intimation of her coming, was away. Miss Nightingale having left a message of thanks to Lord Raglan for his visit of the previous day, now proceeded to the General Hospital before Sebastopol.