Miss Nightingale had also the satisfaction of knowing that the reforms at which she had laboured with him were already bearing fruit. This was being demonstrated in China at this time (1860–64) where General Gordon was waging war against the Taiping Rebellion. While, during the first seven months of the Crimean War, the mortality amongst the soldiers had been at the alarming rate of sixty-one in every hundred per annum, exclusive of those killed in action, in the Chinese campaign, when the army had been sent half across the globe to an unhealthy country, the death-rate, including the wounded, was little more than three men in every hundred per annum, while the loss of those killed in action amounted to less than six men in every hundred per annum.
But now her chief was gone, cut off in the prime of his manhood, and at the pinnacle of public estimation and usefulness, and Miss Nightingale’s usually hopeful spirit grew despondent. The following letter, written fourteen months after Lord Herbert’s death, reveals how sorely she was suffering in body and in spirit. She writes:—
“October 22nd, 1861.
“Dear Sir,—
“... In answer to your kind inquiry, I have passed the last four years between four walls, only varied to other four walls once a year; and I believe there is no prospect but of my health becoming ever worse and worse till the hour of my release. But I have never ceased, during one waking hour since my return to England five years ago, labouring for the welfare of the army at home, as I did abroad, and no hour have I given to friendship or amusement during that time but all to work. To that work the death of my dear chief, Sidney Herbert, has been a fatal blow. I assure you it is always a support-giving strength to me to find a national sympathy with the army and our efforts for it—such a sympathy as you express.
“Believe me, dear sir,
“Sincerely yours,
“Florence Nightingale.”
Happily the succeeding years brought some improvement in health, and the gloomy forebodings of this letter were not realised. After her recovery from the shock occasioned by Lord Herbert’s death, Miss Nightingale continued to give her experience and advice in matters of army and hospital reform both at home and abroad. She had correspondents in all parts of the globe, and the builders of hospitals and pioneers in nursing and sanitary reforms all drew from the fount of her practical knowledge.
She took a deep and sympathetic interest in the Italian War for Liberty, for she had herself been born on Italian soil, and felt something of the patriot’s spirit as she followed the progress of the Italian arms both in the struggle for independence and in the Austro-Prussian War of 1866.
In response to a request in 1866 from Cavaliere Sebastiano Fenzi, one of the committee for organising a system of volunteer assistance to the hospital department of the Italian army, that she would come to Florence to give advice and personal superintendence, Miss Nightingale replied giving a lengthy series of recommendations. We quote the conclusion of the letter for its personal interest:—
“Thus far,” writes Miss Nightingale, “I have given dry advice as drily as I could. But you must permit me to say that if there is anything I could do for you at any time, and you would command me, I should esteem it the greatest honour and pleasure. I am a hopeless invalid, entirely a prisoner to my room, and overwhelmed with business. Otherwise how gladly would I answer to your call and come and do my little best for you in the dear city where I was born. If the giving my miserable life could hasten your success but by half an hour, how gladly would I give it. But you will not want for success or for martyrs, or for volunteers or for soldiers.