ient more work to execute; yet, as her friend Mr. Sidney Herbert observed, "Miss Nightingale looks to her reward from this country in having a fresh field for her labors, and means of extending the good that she has already begun, A compliment cannot be paid dearer to her heart than in giving her more work to do."
In March, 1856, Miss Nightingale sustained a slight injury from the upsetting of a vehicle, in which, with some of the nurses, she was proceeding up to the front of Balaklava. Her back being hurt, she was obliged to remain for a short time in the Castle Hospital, which had been erected during the summer of 1855, in a lonely but healthy spot at the mouth of Balaklava Harbor. During the spring, despite her anxieties and responsibilities, she found time to attend to different minor affairs; through her exertions, "a considerable quantity of school materials, such as maps and slates, was supplied to the schools;" she advanced on her own responsibility a sufficient sum from "The Times' Fund" to complete the erection of the Inkerman Café; she aided the active senior chaplain in establishing a library and schoolroom, and warmly assisted him in organizing evening lectures for the men. She took a kindly interest in the private affairs of the men, and forwarded their savings to their families in England, at a time when there was no provision for sending home small sums; she wrote letters for the sick; she studied the comforts of those who were convalescent; and from the dying she took charge of bequests. She had a tent constructed, to protect from the glaring heat of an eastern sun the invalids who were permitted to enjoy the air, and endured the mortification of a refusal, from the hospital authorities, to have the tent put up.
M. Alexis Soyer, in his "Culinary Campaign," relates the following interesting incident:—
"Before leaving the battery I begged Miss Nightingale, as a favor, to give me her hand, which she did. I then requested her to ascend the stone rampart next the wooden gun carriage, and lastly to sit upon the centre mortar, to which requests she very gracefully and kindly acceded. I then boldly exclaimed, 'Gentlemen, behold this amiable lady sitting fearlessly upon that terrible instrument of war. Behold the heroic daughter of England, the soldier's friend!' All present shouted, 'Bravo! bravo! Hurrah! hurrah! Long live the daughter of England!'"
At length Florence Nightingale's holy work of Christian charity was accomplished, and she prepared to return to England. The period of this event was kept a profound secret, for she ever carefully shunned publicity; and, desirous of maintaining the strictest incognito, she declined the offer of a passage in a British man-of-war, and embarked on board a French vessel. Passing through France by night, and travelling her own country unrecognized, she quietly arrived at Lea Hurst, Derbyshire, Friday, August 15, 1856.[1]
In October, Her Majesty invited her to visit the royal residence at Balmoral; and, at a ball given there, she was seated with the royal family and the court circle at one end of the hall. On this occasion, it was noticed that her hair, which the severe attack of illness she had suffered in the Crimea necessitated cutting off, was "quite short," but a charming little cap made a very graceful head-dress.
- ↑ It is deeply interesting to learn that the apartments in the southern tower of the Barrack Hospital, formerly occupied by Miss Nightingale, now remain, even as regards the furniture they contain, precisely as they were during her residence there; a touching relic, which we owe either to our late ambassador, Lord Stratford, or to his successor, Sir Henry Bulwer.
