The life of Florence Nightingale

by Sarah A. Tooley

Gladly indeed would Miss Nightingale have started on the great work of nursing reform had her health permitted. The spirit was more than willing, it was eager to start, but the flesh was weak. It was hoped that a few months’ rest would restore her health, and that she would herself be able to organise an institute for the training of hospital nurses, to which purpose she proposed to devote the Nightingale Fund. Unfortunately, as time passed it became apparent that the malady from which she suffered was increasing, and that she would never again be able to lead her old active life.

It was indeed a hard cross to bear for a woman comparatively young and with a mind full of humanitarian projects, and as the first years of waiting passed Florence Nightingale drank deep of the cup of life’s disappointments. But she faced the situation with noble resignation. All through the land were brave fellows who had returned from the war maimed or shattered in health, and the soldier’s nurse showed the soldier’s heroism in the service of her country.

But though compelled to be a recluse, not a day of Miss Nightingale’s time was passed unoccupied. Work, work, ever work, was her great panacea. She spent a good deal of her time in London, for she liked to be in the “hum” of things and within easy communication of kindred spirits in the great city.

Her sick-room might have passed for an adjunct of the War Office, so filled was it with schemes for army hospital reform and communications from all sorts and conditions of soldiers. Whenever “Tommy” had a grievance, he wrote to Miss Nightingale. She was still his Lady-in-Chief, and invested in his mind with unlimited power and influence, and to some extent he was not mistaken. The War Office authorities had such a profound belief in Miss Nightingale’s judgment and discrimination that any recommendation made by her received attention. She was able to render help to deserving men with regard to their pensions, and in procuring civil occupation for the maimed and disabled, while she was an ever-helpful friend to the widows and orphans, and by her influence obtained grants from the Patriotic Fund for many destitute soldiers’ families. The amount of work of this kind which Miss Nightingale did in the year succeeding the war is incalculable.

When in 1854 her name had first come before the public, nothing was known of Miss Nightingale, but now that it was understood that she was the daughter of a rich and influential gentleman, she was overwhelmed with begging letters. These increased to such an extent that she was forced to make a public protest in The Times and state her inability to reply to the letters which poured in upon her. However, let it be stated to the honour of the army that not a single begging letter for money was ever sent to Miss Nightingale by a British soldier.

During the first years of her illness Miss Nightingale still hoped against hope that she might be sufficiently restored to health as to be able to take active steps for the formation of an institute for nurses, and in 1859 it was still thought by the Committee that she would eventually be able to administer the Nightingale Fund, and it agreed to hold the scheme in abeyance. At this time the sum subscribed and the accumulated interest amounted to £48,000. After another year had passed and her health showed no signs of improvement, Miss Nightingale entered into an arrangement by which she placed the money in the hands of trustees for the training of hospital nurses. The net income of the fund amounted to £1,426 and a Council was named to administer it. Miss Nightingale, to whom the fund had been a personal gift from the nation, only reserved to herself the power to give advice. The Hon. Sidney Herbert, shortly to become Lord Herbert of Lea, was the guiding spirit of the Council.

It was arranged with Miss Nightingale’s approval to devote two-thirds of the income to the maintenance and instruction of nurses at St. Thomas’s Hospital, the probationers engaging to take service in public hospitals and infirmaries. The remaining third was to be spent at King’s College Hospital for the maintenance and instruction of midwifery nurses, the want of whom was at that time much felt in the villages of England.

The movement thus begun by Florence Nightingale for the systematic training of lay hospital nurses was first established at old St. Thomas’s Hospital, near London Bridge, in 1860. This hospital was one of the oldest foundations in the country, having been first established in 1213 as an “almery” or hospital in connection with the Priory of Bermondsey. It was later assigned for the use of the poor. At the dissolution of the monasteries St. Thomas’s was surrendered to Henry VIII. It had then forty beds for poor people, a master, six brethren, and three lay sisters. Later it was enlarged and opened as a hospital for the sick poor under the patronage of the young King Edward VI. During the period of the Restoration it was used as a military hospital, and is mentioned in this connection by Pepys in his Diary. In 1732 it was rebuilt and the grand entrance made from Wellington Street, Southwark. It is interesting to find that at this period each ward of the hospital was under the care of a sister and two or three nurses.

In selecting St. Thomas’s for the home and training school of her pioneer nurses, Miss Nightingale was carrying on the traditions of the hospital, as nursing sisters had been associated with it from early times. It also specially commended itself to her sympathies as being one of the oldest institutions in the kingdom where the sick poor could be relieved. Later, the hospital was rebuilt in palatial style on its present site on the Thames Embankment, and the Nightingale Training Home became a part of the new hospital.

Meantime, an upper floor in a new wing of old St. Thomas’s was arranged as the quarters for the Nightingale nurses. There was a separate bedroom for each probationer, a common sitting-room, and two rooms for the sister-in-charge.