Miss Nightingale here was wrong. Mr. Kinglake made considerable use of her materials, and drew from them and from his personal impressions an excellent picture of the Lady-in-Chief; though on the point about which she was concerned, the McNeill-Tulloch affaire, he remained of the same opinion still.
Of Miss Nightingale's demeanour during her short holiday at home in August 1856, there is a pleasant account in a letter from her sister[233]:—
She is better, I think, but I quite hate the sight of the post with its long official envelopes. She will go on as long as she has strength doing everything which cannot be left without detriment to the work to which she has devoted her life. I cannot conceive anything more beautiful than her frame of mind. It is so calm, so cheerful, so simple. The physical hardships one does not wonder at her forgetting to speak of; but the marvel to me is how the mental ones,—the indifference, the ignorance, the cruelty, the falsehood she has had to encounter—never seem to ruffle her for an instant (and never have done, Aunt Mai says). It is as if she dwelt in another atmosphere of peace and trust in Him which nothing wicked can dim. She speaks of these things sadly and quietly as some one from another world might do, seeing so plainly the excuses for the wrong-doers, while the personal part never seems to come in, and there is such a charm about her perfect simplicity. There is not the smallest particle of the martyr about her; she is as merry about little things as ever, in the intervals of her great thought, and with as much interest about the little things of home as if she had not been wielding the management and organization of the material and spiritual comfort of the 50,000 men passing through hospital and out. If you heard all the evidence we have had lately from doctors, chaplains and officers, you would not think I am exaggerating in saying that these depended mainly upon her during the whole of these 21 months. As to her indifference to praise, it is most extraordinary; she just passes on and does not heed it, as it comes in every morning in its flood—papers, music, poetry, friends, letters, addresses.
The addresses and presentations which she most valued came from working-men. A case of Sheffield cutlery, presented by artisans in that city, was always treasured, and was the subject of a specific bequest in her will. She was much touched by an address from 1800 working-men at Newcastle-on-Tyne. “My dear friends,” she wrote in the course of her reply (August 1856), “the things that are deepest in our hearts are perhaps what it is most difficult to express. ‘She hath done what she could.’ These words I inscribed on the tomb of one of my best helpers when I left Scutari. It has been my endeavour, in the sight of God, to do as she has done.”
Presently there came to Lea Hurst a letter of much importance in Miss Nightingale's life. Her friend, Sir James Clark, the Queen's physician, wrote from Osborne (August 23, 1856) begging her to stay during the following month at his home, Birk Hall, near Ballater. The air of Scotland would be beneficial, he said, to her health; and there were other reasons. The Court would shortly be moved to Balmoral. The Queen would doubtless invite Miss Nightingale there. Meanwhile Her Majesty knew of the present invitation; and there would be opportunity at Birk Hall for quiet and informal talk in addition to any “command” visit at Balmoral. Miss Nightingale heard in this letter a call hardly less important than that to the Crimea, two years before. She had served with the Queen's army in the East. Her services had received sympathetic support and approbation from the Queen and the Prince. She was now to have full opportunities for bringing to their knowledge, in personal intercourse, what she had seen of the soldiers' sufferings, and for enlisting their support, if she could, in what she knew to be necessary for the prevention of such sufferings in the future. She succeeded, as will presently appear; and she deserved her success by the thoroughness with which she prepared herself to make the best use of her opportunity.
The two men who had thrown light most searchingly on the defects of the campaign, in the matter of supply and transport, were Sir John McNeill and Colonel Tulloch. Miss Nightingale arranged to see and confer with the former at Edinburgh on her way to Ballater. Colonel Tulloch, though he was far distant at the time, agreed to join the conclave, and, meanwhile, he wrote (from Killin, Sept. 6): “If H.M. should afford you an opportunity of telling the whole truth, as I think it likely she wishes to do from her desire to see you under another roof, without her enquiries being noticed, perhaps you might bring to her knowledge,” etc., etc. [various points which he deemed of special importance]. Mr. Herbert's advice was more general. “I hope,” he wrote (Sept. 9), “that your Highland foray will do you good. I am sure it will, if you find help and encouragement for your plans. I hope you will talk fully, and illustrate by facts and details. They explain best. Men and women require picture-books, just as much as children, when they are to learn something of which they know nothing previously.” She armed herself, by study of statistics, by collection of her notes and memoranda, by inquiries on all sides, for every occasion which the sympathetic interest of the Queen or the Prince might give her. She felt, and others felt, that great things might turn on her use of such occasions. The fullest and most suggestive letter which she received was from Colonel Lefroy. He was employed at the War Office. He knew the weaknesses of his Chief. He knew also the strength of the Department to resist. He had been employed, as we have heard already,[234] on a confidential mission to the Crimea, and had formed the highest opinion of “the glorious fidelity, the self-sacrifice, the heroic courage, and single-minded devotion” with which Miss Nightingale had performed her duties in the East. He looked for great results from her visit to Scotland:—
(Colonel Lefroy to Miss Nightingale.) August 28.… I never had the good fortune to have an interview with the Queen, but I have had several with Prince Albert. The Prince exhibited such a remarkable knowledge of the subjects he was enquiring about, so strong and clear and business-like a capacity that you will, I think, find it both expedient and necessary, or rather unavoidable, to enter into a full and unreserved communication of your observations, and be tempted irresistibly to let fall such suggestions as are most likely to germinate in that high latitude. If I am correct in this impression, a similar frankness with Lord Panmure follows. I was once amused by the Prince remarking on a point of military education, “I have urged it over and over again; they do not mind what I say,” showing that even he cannot always overcome the vis inertiae of Departmental indifference or prevail on people to move. It may be so in any question of medical reform. Lord Panmure hates detail, and does not appreciate system. He can reform but not organise. It is organisation we want, but which arouses every instinct of resistance in the British bosom, and it is this which can be least influenced by H.M.'s personal interest in it. Like a rickety clumsy machine, with a pin loose here and a tooth broken there, and a makeshift somewhere else, in which the force of Hercules may be exhausted in a needless friction and obscure hitches before[323] the hands are got to move, so is our Executive, with the Treasury, the Horse Guards, the War Department, the Medical Department all out of gear, but all required to move together before a result can be attained. He will be stronger than Hercules, who gets out of it the movement we require. I think I would recommend … vis viva of the soul cannot be imparted.… It appears to me that either a confidential report addressed to Lord Panmure upon a formal request, or evidence before such a Commission as I have proposed above would be suitable means—the latter the most so, as I fear that more publicity than attends confidential reports will be necessary. I earnestly hope that your interviews with the Queen and Lord Panmure may be the means of leading both to interest themselves effectually in the vital reforms required. The axe has to be laid to the root of the tree yet.
Various friends tendered advice as to what Miss Nightingale should say if she were to be asked what the Queen could “do for her.” She might petition to be placed in charge of the new hospital about to be built at Netley, or to be appointed Lady Superintendent of Nurses in all military hospitals, and so forth. Her own ideas were on the lines of Colonel Lefroy's letter. She would, first, tell the whole truth of the campaign, so far as it had come under her personal observation. If given any encouragement to proceed, she would explain in general terms the kind of remedies which she deemed essential. She would offer, if the conversation took a suitable turn, to embody her observations and suggestions in a written report. If further honoured by any suggestion of Royal favour, she would ask—for herself, nothing but for the sake of the soldiers, a Royal Commission to inquire into the whole condition of barracks, hospitals, and the Army Medical Department.