.1 'Zi > 't'' y V. j^^y ^ V^^ > p- "^ \ ^y ■^ -- ■ • ,/ ^ . u* ^ ■<■- ^ ■^ J-^ - "v7 ,■> ^VV' A^^ .^ y > .- -<• J '^ ^< V A^- \ v> ^ ^ V :\.^ . A. \y <^'' VJ^ .Vi -^ f ^ .^. ~\ / y ^ (^^^ ^' V y DONATION BY DR. AND MRS. ELMER BELT THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT OF DR. AND MRS. ELMER BELT THE LIFE OF FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE l/i'y ^y\ 1(1 httn (Id U' (iiifl licr d unci liter. (j lUi II CI 1 3 '2 r:,:)t cii r^'. 1 1 '-' (^ ini / i ^ ^ e THE LIFE OF FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE BY SIR EDWARD COOK IN TWO VOLUMES VOL. I (1820-1861) MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON 1913 COPYRIGHT First Edition November 1913 Reprinted Novembei- 1913 AC PREFACE 1"^^^ Men and women are divided, in relation to their papers, into hoarders and scatterers. Miss Nightingale was a hoarder, and as she lived to be 90 the accumulation of papers, stored in her house at the time of her death, was very great. The papers referring to years up to 1861 had been neatly done up by herself, and it was evident that not everything had been kept. After that date, time and strength to sort and weed had been wanting, and Miss Nightingale seems to have thrown little away. Even soiled sheets of blotting-paper, on which she had made notes in pencil, were preserved. By a Will executed in 1896 she had directed that all her letters, papers, and manuscripts, with some specific exceptions, should be destroyed. By a Codicil executed in the following year she revoked this direction, and bequeathed the letters, papers, and manuscripts to her cousin, Mr. Henry Bonham Carter. After her death the papers were sorted chronologically by his direction, and they have formed the principal founda- tion of this Memoir. Of expressly autobiographical notes. Miss Nightingale left very few. At the date of the Codicil above mentioned she seems to have contemplated the probability of some authoritative record of her life ; for in that year she wrote a short summary of what she called " My Responsibility to India," detailing her relations with successive Secretaries of State, Governors-General, and other administrators. Her memory in these matters was still accurate, for the summary is fully borne out by letters and other papers of the several dates : it adds some personal details. In private letters she sometimes recounted, at later times, episodes or experiences in her life, but such references are vi PREFACE few. Nor, except for a few years, did Miss Nightingale keep any formal diary ; and during the Crimean episode she was too incessantly busy with her multitudinous duties to find time for many private notes. The principal authority for Miss Nightingale's Life is thus the collection of papers aforesaid, and these are very copious in information. The records, in one sort or another, of her earlier years are full. The papers relating to her work during the Crimean War are voluminous, and I have supple- mented the study of these by consulting the official docu- ments concerning Miss Nightingale's mission which are preserved, among War Office papers, in the Public Record Office. Her papers relating to public affairs during the years 1856 to 1861 are also very voluminous. After the latter date she seems, as already stated, to have kept almost everything, even every advertisement, that she received. She often made notes for important letters that she sent, and sometimes kept copies of them. Of official documents, of printed memoranda, pamphlets, reports, and returns, she accumulated an immense collection. And though she was not a regular diarist, she was in the habit of jotting down on sheets of notepaper her engagements, impressions, thoughts, meditations, as also in many cases reports of conversations. The collection of letters received by Miss Nightingale, and of her notes for letters sent by her, has been supplemented, through the kindness of many of her correspondents or their representatives, by letters which were received from her. I am more especially indebted in this respect to the care of the late Sir Douglas Galton, whose docketed collection of letters from Miss Nightingale, taken in conjunction with a long series of his letters to her, forms a main authority for much of the record of her activity in public affairs. Her letters to Julius and Mary Mohl, returned to her after the death of the latter, are, in another way, of peculiar interest. I am particularly indebted, among the lenders of letters ad- dressed to nursing friends, to Miss Pringle and to the father of the late Mrs. Daniel Morris (Miss Rachel Williams) . Miss Pringle has also favoured me with personal reminiscences. For permission to print letters written to Miss Nightin- PREFACE vii gale, I am indebted to many of her relations, friends, and correspondents, or their representatives ; to so' many, indeed, that I ask them to accept here a general acknowledg- ment. I am especially indebted to the King, who has been pleased to permit the publication of letters from Queen Victoria and some other members of the Royal Family. The German Emperor has graciously given a like permission in the case of correspondence with the Empress Frederick. The Dowager Grand Duchess (Luise) of Baden has allowed me to quote from a long series of letters addressed by her to Miss Nightingale. Next to the letters and other papers, above described, the most valuable material for the Life of Miss Nightingale is contained in her own printed writings — many of them published, some (and these, from the biographical point of view, the most important) privately printed. In the case of the Crimean War, material under both of these heads is particularly abundant. Her published Notes on Hospitals and Notes on Nursing and other works relating to those subjects, together with her privately circulated Addresses to Probationers, supplement her private records. For her inner life, her privately printed book, Suggestions for Thought, is of special importance. A List of Miss Nightingale's Printed Writings (whether published or privately circulated) is given at the end of the second volume {Appendix A). My purpose in compiling this List was biographical illustration, not bibliographical minuteness. I have not included every scrap from Miss Nightingale's pen which has appeared in print, but have given every piece which is directly or indirectly referred to in the Memoir, or which is of any importance. The List will, I hope, serve a double purpose. It enables me to abbreviate in the text the references to my authorities ; and it provides, in chronological order, a conspectus of Miss Nightingale's varied activities, so far as they were reflected in her printed writings. Lastly, there is much biographical material, not only in Blue-books and official reports, but in writings about Miss Nightingale. Except in the case of the Crimean War, viii PREFACE where many eye-witnesses recorded their observations or impressions, this material is not all of great value. Through- out her subsequent life, Miss Nightingale was screened from the public gaze ; a somewhat legendary figure grew up, and it is that which for the most part appears in books about her This, however, is a subject fully dealt with in an Introductory chapter. In Appendix B I give a short List of Writings about Miss Nightingale. Here, again, the purpose is not bibliographical. There is a great mass of such writing, and a complete list would have been altogether outside the scope of a biography. I have included only first-hand authorities or such other books, etc., as for one reason or another (explained in the notes upon each item) seemed relevant to the Memoir. This second List also serves the purpose of simplifying references in the text. In a third Appendix (C) I have enumerated the principal portraits of Miss Nightingale. Notes on those reproduced in this book will there be found. I am indebted to the kindness of Sir William Richmond and Sir Harry Verney for the inclusion of the portrait which forms the frontis- piece to the second volume, and to Mrs. Cunliffe for the frontispiece to the present volume. To Miss Nightingale's executors I am indebted for the confidence which they have shown in entrusting her Papers to my discretion. A biography is worth nothing unless it is sincere. The aim of the present book has been to tell the truth about the subject of it, and I have done my work under no conscious temptation to suppress, exag- gerate, extenuate, or distort. From Miss Nightingale's executors, and from other of her friends and relations, I have received help and information which has been of the greatest assistance. More especially I am indebted to her cousin, Mrs. Vaughan Nash, who has been good enough to read my book, both in manuscript and in proof, and who has favoured me throughout with valuable information, corrections, suggestions, and criticisms. This obligation makes it the more incumbent upon me to add that for any faults in the book, whether of commission or of omis- sion, I alone must bear the blame. CONTENTS PAGE Introductory ........ xxiii PART I ASPIRATION (1820-1854) CHAPTER I CHILDHOOD AND EDUCATION (1820-1839) Name, ancestry, and parentage. II. Her father's circum- stances — Her early homes — Lea Hurst (Derbyshire) — Mrs. Gaskell's description — Embley Park (Hampshire). III. Early years — Country Ufe — Domestic interests — A morbid strain. IV. Mr. Nightingale's education of his daughters — History, the classics, pliilosophy — Anecdotes of Florence's sup- posed early vocation to nursing — The date of her " call to God " (1837). V. The Grand Tour (1837-9) — Interest in social and poUtical conditions — ItaUan refugees at Geneva — Talks with Sismondi — Visit to Florence — Gaieties and music. VI. A winter in Paris (1838-9) — Friendship with Mary Clarke (Madame Mohl) — Madame Recamier's salon. Social " tempta- tions " . . . . . . . . • 3 CHAPTER II HOME LIFE (1839-1845) A struggle for freedom. Life in London — Music — The Bed- chamber Plot. II. Country-house hfe — The charm of Embley — Contrast between Florence and her sister. III. The family circle — Florence's " boy " — Florence as " Emergency Man " — Her old nurse — Letter to Miss Clarke on the death of M. Fauriel — Theatricals at Waverley Abbey — Florence as stage-manager. IV. Friends and neighbours — Lord Palmer- ston — Louisa Lady Ashburton — Mrs. Bracebridge. V. Florence's conversation — Social attractiveness — Personal CONTENTS PAGE appearance : descriptions by Lady Lovelace and Mrs. Gaskell. VI. Dissatisfaction in social life — Desultoriness of a girl's life at home — The misery of being read aloud to — Housekeeping. VII. Increasing sense of a vocation — Private studies — Thoughts of nursing — A first dash for hberty (1845) : failure . 23 CHAPTER III THE SPIRITUAL LIFE Dejection. Friendship with Miss Nicholson: religious experi- ences and speculations — Letters to Miss Nicholson and Miss Clarke. II. The reality of the unseen world — The conviction of sin — The pains of hell — Hunger after righteousness — " All for the Love of God." III. Independent development of Miss Nightingale's reUgious thought — The service of God as the service of man — Her testing of religious doctrine by practical results — Her attitude to Roman Catholicism — Desire for a church of works, not doctrines ..... 46 CHAPTER IV DISAPPOINTMENT (1846-1847) Disappointment's dry and bitter root." Pursuit of her ideal — Obstacles to her adoption of nursing — Social prejudices — Low esteem of nurses at the time — The Kaiserswerth " Institution for Deaconesses." II. Increasing distaste for the routine of home life. III. Social distractions (1847) — Jenny Lind — The British Association at Oxford — Marriage of Miss Clarke — Country visits ....... 59 CHAPTER V A WINTER IN ROME; AND AFTER (1847-1849) A tour that confirmed a vocation. Sight-seeing in Rome — Ad- miration for Michael Angelo — The revelation of the Sistine Chapel — The obsession of Rome. II. Itahan pohtics — Pio Nono as Patriot Hero. III. The convent of the Trinita de' Monti — Study of Roman doctrine and ritual — Friendship with theMadre Sta. Colomba — A retreat in the convent — The secret of devotion. IV. Meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Herbert and with Manning — The London season — Friendship with Lord Shaftesbury — Self-reproaches. V. A projected visit to Kaiserswerth (1848) : disappointment again — Acquaintance with Guizot — Ragged school work in London ... 69 CONTENTS xi CHAPTER VI FOREIGN TRAVEL : EGYPT AND GREECE (1849-1850) PAGE Another fruitless distraction. A winter in Egypt — Thebes — Condition of the people — Impressions of Egyptian scenery. II. Athens — Doric architecture — Greek scenery. III. Political affairs — The " Don Pacifico " crisis — The Ionian Islands : a day with the High Commissioner. IV. American missionaries at Athens — Dresden — Visit to Kaiserswerth. V. The literary " temptation " — Her view of literary art — Her Letters from Egypt 84 CHAPTER Vn THE SINGLE LIFE The three paths. Why Florence Nightingale did not marry — Her criticism of Dorothea in Middlemarch. II. Offers of marriage — Her ideal of marriage — The threefold nature. III. Self-devotion to her vocation — Determination to throw open new spheres for women ...... 96 CHAPTER Vm APPRENTICESHIP AT KAISERSWERTH (1851) The struggle for independence resumed. Want of sympathy be- tween her and her parents and sister — Unhappiness at home — A " starved " hfe. II. Growing spirit of revolt — The need of apprenticeship. III. Second visit to Kaiserswerth — Origin of the Institution — Account of its work — Her life there. IV. Craving for sympathy from her relations — Their hope that the apprenticeship would be only an episode . . .104 CHAPTER IX AN INTERLUDE {1852) The turning-point. Patience and serenity : waiting for an oppor- tunity. II. With her father at Umberslade — The water cure — Death of her Aunt Evans — Meeting with George Ehot and Mrs. Browning — Visits to Dubhn and to Birk Hall (Sir James Clark). III. Literary " Works " — Converse with her " Aunt Mai " — A new rehgion for the artizans. IV. A little piece of diplomacy— Florence to be free at some future specified time. V. A last attempt to keep her at home . . . .116 xii CONTENTS CHAPTER X FREEDOM. PARIS AND HARLEY STREET (1853-OcTOBER 1854) PAGE Visit to Paris — Study in the hospitals — Return to England: death of her grandmother. II. Miss Nightingale invited to take charge of an institution in Harley Street. III. Return to Paris — Study with the Sisters of Charity — Illness. IV. Super- intendent of the Harley Street " Hospital for Gentlewomen " — The gentle art of managing committees — Her vocation found — A last attempt to call her back. V. A holiday at Lea Hurst — Visit from Mrs. GaskeU — Outbreak of cholera : return to London. VI. Limited scope at Harley Street — Proposal to Miss Nightingale to become matron at King's College Hospital — Lady Lovelace's prophecy . . . . . .127 PART II THE CRIMEAN WAR (1854-1856) CHAPTER I THE CALL (October 1854) The Battle of the Alma — The Times special correspondent — State of the hospitals at Scutari — Popular indignation — An appeal for nurses. II. Answer to the appeal — Lady Maria Forester and Miss Nightingale — Sidney Herbert and Miss Nightingale. III. Letters that crossed — Miss Nightingale's offer : Sidney Herbert's suggestion — Miss Nightingale's of&cial instructions. IV. Co-operation of the Times Fund — Selection of nurses for the expedition. V. Miss Nightingale's demeanour — A pocket-book and some letters . . . 145 CHAPTER n THE EXPEDITION — PROBLEMS AHEAD Start of the expedition — Failure to obtain Sisters of Charity in Paris — Reception of the expedition in France — Departure from Marseilles. II. Popular enthusiasm in England — Account of Miss Nightingale in the newspapers — Public subscriptions — Other nurses volunteering. III. Miss Nightingale's plans — Importance of her experiment — Difficulties ahead — Military prejudice: Sir Anthony Sterling's letters — Medical jealousy: Sir John Hall's letters — Rehgious rivalries — Miss Nightingale's policy . . . . . . . . .162 CONTENTS xiii CHAPTER III THE HOSPITALS AT SCUTARI PAGE Arrival at the Golden Horn. The Scutari hospitals — The General Hospital — The Barrack Hospital: quarters of Miss Nightingale and her staff — The Palace Hospital — The Koulali Hospitals. II. State of the hospitals when Miss Nightingale arrived — Report of the Roebuck Committee — Terrible death-rate — The root of the evil : division of responsibiUty — Need of individual initiative . . . . .171 CHAPTER IV THE expert's touch The Battle of Balaclava. Miss Nightingale's reception at Scutari : letter from Lord Raglan — Difficulties with the doctors — Miss Nightingale at work in the wards — Difficulties with the nurses. II. Dispatch of a second party of nurses under Miss Stanley, accompanied by Mr. Jocelyne Percy — Miss Nightin- gale's indignant surprise — Mr. Herbert's promise not to send out more nurses except at her requisition — Danger of ruining the experiment — Medical opposition — Aggravation of the religious difficulty — Arrangements for placing the Stanley party — Significance of the episode in relation to the novelty of the experiment. III. Deficiency of requisites in the hospitals — Miss Nightingale's appeal to the British Ambassador — Her washing reforms — Her "Extra Diet" Kitchens — Alexis Soyer — Sorry phght of the camp-followers — Establishment of a lying-in hospital — Dr. Andrew Smith and the female eye . i8i CHAPTER V the ADMINISTRATOR Miss Nightingale's varied functions. Purveyor-Auxiliary to the hospitals — Ignorance of the Ambassador as to the true state of things — Deficiencies in the stores — Miss Nightingale's cara- vanserai in " The Sisters' Tower " — Her supphes issued only on medical requisition — Delays in obtaining access to Government stores — Miss Nightingale's resourcefulness in obtaining supplies — Her gifts to the French and Sardinian hospitals — Absurdities of the purveying regulations. II. Clothier to the wounded — Cause of the deficiency of shirts : 50,000 issued from Miss Nightingale's stores. III. Builder — Miss Nightingale's pre- paration of new wards for additional patients from the Crimea. IV. Her shouldering of responsibihty — Strictness of her admini- stration — Almoner of the Queen's " Free Gifts " — Rules and ex- ceptions — Value of her initiative — Sidney Herbert's approval — Mr. Kinglake and " the woman's touch "... 199 xiv CONTENTS CHAPTER VI THE REFORMER PAGE Miss Nightingale as an inspirer of reform — Sources of her in- fluence — Favour of the Court — Letter from Queen Victoria : her gifts to the soldiers. II. Miss Nightingale's reports to Sidney Herbert — Character of her letters. III. Her urgent appeals for stores — Dispatch of an executive Sanitary Commis- sion — Miss Nightingale's reforms in the handling of Govern- ment stores — Other reforms due to her. IV. Her suggestion for systematic reorganization — Suggested improvements in the medical service. V. Miss Nightingale's demeanour at Scutari — Description by S. G. O. — Range of her influence — The efficacy of " going to Miss Nightingale " . . . . .213 CHAPTER VII THE MINISTERING ANGEL Dual position of Miss Nightingale: administrator and nurse. Prodigious power of work — Her attention to the sick and wounded — Her midnight vigils — The famous lamp — The soldiers kissing her shadow — Idolization by the men. II. Corre- spondence with relatives and friends of the wounded soldiers. III. Strain upon Miss Nightingale's powers — Burden of corre- spondence — Her helpers — Mr. and Mrs. Bracebridge. IV. Schemes for helping the soldiers — Mr. Augustus Stafford — The Orderlies and Miss Nightingale ..... 233 CHAPTER VIII THE RELIGIOUS DIFFICULTY Nature of the religious difficulty. Rivalry between the churches — Various claims for " representation " among the nursing staff — " Anti-Puseyite " attacks. II. Miss Nightingale's atti- tude in the squabble. III. The difficulty increased by the advent of Miss Stanley's party — Charges of proselytism — Lord Panmure's instructions misinterpreted. IV. Aggravation by the religious feuds of the difficulty of obtaining efficient nurses — Worry caused to Miss Nightingale . . . .244 CHAPTER IX TO THE CRIMEA — ILLNESS (May-August 1855) Siege of Sebastopol. The hospitals in the Crimea — Miss Night- ingale's authority there not explicitly defined — Her arrival at Balaclava. II. Visit to the front— Sir John McNeill. III. Work jij the hospitals — Attacked by " Crimean fever " — Anxiety CONTENTS XV PACE in England and in the hospitals — Visit from Lord Raglan. IV. IVIiss Nightingale advised to return to England — Her refusal — Return to Scutari — Gradual recovery — " The heroic dead " . 254 CHAPTER X THE POPULAR HEROINE Sympathy in England caused by Miss Nightingale's illness. The popular heroine: letters from Lady Verney. II. The poetry of Seven Dials, verses, songs, lives, portraits, etc. — Miss Night- ingale's view of it all. III. Public memorial to her — The Nightingale Fund — Speeches at the public meeting — Nature of the memorial — Subscriptions from the army — Medical jealousy — Presentation of a jewel by the Queen .... 264 CHAPTER XI THE soldiers' FRIEND Miss Nightingale's ministrations to the moral welfare of the soldiers — Her behef in the possibility of reforms. II. Her letter to the Queen on drunkenness in the army : considered by the Cabinet — Miss Nightingale's Money Order Office at Scutari — Government offices opened — The " Inkerman Cafe " — Sir Henry Storks — Miss Nightingale's influence with the soldiers. III. Establishment of reading-rooms and class-rooms . . 276 CHAPTER XII TO THE CRIMEA AGAIN (September 1855-JULY 1856) Fall of Sebastopol: Miss Nightingale's second and third visits to the Crimea. Hardships of her work in the Crimea — Her " carriage " — The hospital huts on the heights above Balaclava — Her Extra Diet Kitchens. II. Opposition to her in miUtary and medical quarters — Sir John Hall's opposition — Difficulties with the nuns — Miss Nightingale's authority disputed. III. Her appeals to home for support — Correspondence with Sidney Herbert — Dispatch from the Secretary of State defining her full authority in the Crimea promulgated in General Orders — Ex- hausting labours in the Crimea : testamentary dispositions. IV. Hard work at Scutari — Letters from the aunt who was with Miss Nightingale — Christmas Day at the British Embassy — Colonel Lefroy . . , . . . .283 CHAPTER XIII END OF THE WAR — RETURN HOME (July-August 1856) The Peace. Return of the nurses — Miss Nightingale's tribute to her " mainstays." II. The Government's thanks to Miss Nightingale — Gratitude of the soldiers — Offer of a man-of-war xvi CONTENTS PAGE for her return — Lord EUesmere's speech in the House of Lords. III. Return of Miss Nightingale — Pubhcity avoided — Her " spoils of war." IV. Her Crimean work a starting-point . 299 PART III FOR THE HEALTH OF THE SOLDIERS (1856-1861) CHAPTER I THE QUEEN, MISS NIGHTINGALE, AND LORD PANMURE (August-November 1856) " Muddling through a war": the favourable moment for reform. Advantage taken of the opportunity after the Crimean War for the better sanitation of the British Army — Co-operation of Sidney Herbert and Miss Nightingale. II. Her passionate desire to lessen preventable mortality in the future — Examination of the figures of mortality in the army during peace — Her admira- tion of the heroism of the British soldier — Her opportunity and sense of responsibihty. III. A short hoUday at Lea Hurst — Acquaintance with Mr. Kinglake — Invitation from Sir James Clark to Ballater — A visit from Queen Victoria Ukely — Miss Nightingale's preparations : consultation with Sir John McNeill and Colonel Lefroy — Miss Nightingale's plan of cam- paign. IV. First visit to Balmoral — Visit from the Queen at Sir J. Clark's — Conversations with the Queen and the Prince Consort — Miss Nightingale requested to remain to see the Secretary for ^>^ War. V. Awaiting Lord Panmure — Advice from Sir J. ^ McNeill — "Command visit" to Balmoral — Conversations with Lord Panmure — Appointment of a Royal Commission promised — Estabhshment of an Army Medical School favoured — Miss Nightingale to report on her experiences. VI. Conferences of Miss Nightingale's " Cabinet " — Provisional selection of Royal Commissioners: draft of their instructions — Interview with Lord Panmure in London: points won and lost — The per- sonnel of the Commission . . . . .311 CHAPTER H SOWING THE SEED (November 1856-AuGUST 1857) Power of departmental passive resistance: delay in setting up the Commission. Lord Panmure's gout — "The Bison is bully- able" — Miss Nightingale's weapon in reserve: her potential command of the pubhc ear. II. The " Chelsea Board " : the McNeill-Tulloch affaire — Parhamentary pressure on the Govern- ment, III. Miss Nightingale's friendship with Lord Stanley — CONTENTS xvii I'AGE Miss Nightingale and the China expedition — The Netley Hospital — Her negotiations with Lord Panmure — Visit to Lord Palmerston — Her " fight for the pavilion." IV. Her prepara- tion for the Royal Commission by writing her own of&cial Report — Lord Panmure's instructions — This Report, the most remark- able of her works — Account of it. V. The experts and Miss Nightingale — Her inspection of hospitals and barracks — Visit to Chatham — Reform at Chelsea — Miss Nightingale and Robert Lowe — The proposed Army Medical School — Her suggestions of soldiers' reading-rooms. VI. The Royal Commission set up — Interview with Lord Panmure — Her revision of the instructions — Mr. Herbert's industry as chairman — Miss Nightingale's assistance — Dr. Sutherland — Her interviews with witnesses, sug- gestions for their examination — Her own evidence. VII. Re- port of the Commission— Its salient feature, the high rate of mortality in the barracks — Mr. Herbert and Miss Nightingale resolved on securing prompt reforms .... 334 CHAPTER III ENFORCING A REPORT (August-December 1857) Frequent futility of Royal Commissions. Mr. Herbert's and Miss Nightingale's plans for averting the danger — Proposed series of Sub-Commissions to settle the details of reform — Lord Panmure off to Scotland — -Departmental objections — Delay in appointing the Sub-Commissions — Miss Nightingale's labours. II. Over- work — Dr. Sutherland's expostulations— Her refusal to rest. III. The Indian Mutiny — Miss Nightingale's offer to go out. Her life at this period — Miss Nightingale's daily work with her alhes — Ill-health — Testamentary dispositions . . 362 CHAPTER IV REAPING THE FRUIT (1858-1860) Fruits of Miss Nightingale's labours. Pubhcation of the Report of the Royal Commission — Her measures for calhng attention to the rate of mortahty ; for securing reviews of the Report. II. Resignation of Lord Palmerston's Government — General Peel, the new Secretary for War — Miss Nightingale's anxiety about a new director-general of the Army Medical Department — Disappointed with General Peel — Miss Nightingale's ill- health — Her sister's marriage — Mr. Herbert overworked. III. Work of the Barracks and Hospitals Commission : Miss Night- ingale and the kitchens — Work with Mr. Herbert and Dr. Sutherland in connection with other Sub -Commissions — Netley Hospital again — Miss Nightingale's papers on Hospital Construction (1858). IV. Private circulation of her Report to VOL. I b xviii CONTENTS PAGE Lord Panmure — Miss Nightingale and the Duke of Cambridge — Harriet Martineau's co-operation with Miss Nightingale — Her Contribution to the Sanitary History of the British Army (1859). V. Resignation of Lord Derby's Government — Mr. Herbert, Secretary for War — Reforms in the barracks — Appointment of a permanent Barracks Works Committee (afterwards called Army Sanitary Committee) — School of cookery — Improved Army Medical Statistics — Establishment of an Army Medical School : Miss Nightingale as its founder: the present college — Other reforms due to her. VI. Results of Mr. Herbert's reforms — Miss Nightingale's tribute to him — Their co-operation . . 375 CHAPTER V THE DEATH OF SIDNEY HERBERT (1861) Break -down of Mr. Herbert's health. His interview with Miss Nightingale (December i860) : decision to give up the House of Commons — Created Lord Herbert of Lea — Her insistence that he should reform the War Ofi&ce — His abandonment of the attempt — Establishment of the General Military Hospital at Woolwich — Introduction of female nursing — His last letter to Miss Nightingale — His death (August 2) — " Our joint-work unfinished." II. Miss Nightingale's grief — Obituary notices of him — Mr. Gladstone's interview with her — Her memorandum on Lord Herbert's reforms — Her endeavour to interest Mr. Gladstone in their completion — His reply — Public meeting to promote a Herbert Memorial. III. The friendship between Sidney Herbert and Miss Nightingale . . . .401 PART IV HOSPITALS AND NURSING (1858-1861) CHAPTER I THE HOSPITAL REFORMER (1858-1861) Miss Nightingale's work with Sidney Herbert carried on at the same time with other work. Her place as a Sanitarian — Her prestige as an authority on hospitals — Her Notes on Hospitals — General condition of hospitals at the time — Influence of her book — Miss Nightingale widely consulted on the construction of hospitals, at home and abroad. II. The Manchester Royal Infirmary, and Mr. Joseph Adshead — St. Thomas's Hospital, London: the battle of the sites — Miss Nightingale and the Prince Consort . . . . . . .415 CONTENTS xix CHAPTER II THE PASSIONATE STATISTICIAN (1859-1861) PAGE Statistics as a passion. Miss Nightingale's study of the works of Quetelet — Careless statistical records in the Crimean War — Her model Hospital Statistical Forms — Advantage to be derived from such data — International Statistical Congress in London (i860) — Miss Nightingale's alliance with Dr. Farr — Adoption of her Forms — Her reception of the delegates — Circulation of her paper — Partial adoption of her scheme by London and other hospitals. IL Her advocacy of the better utilization of Government statistics — Her efforts to extend the scope of the Census of 1861 — Correspondence with Mr. Lowe and Sir George Lewis — An appeal to the Lords . . . 428 CHAPTER III THE FOUNDER OF MODERN NURSING (i860) Three great contributions of the 19th century to the relief of human suffering in disease. Miss Nightingale's place in the history of nursing — The founder not of nursing, but of modern nursing — Her peculiar fitness for directing tendencies of the time towards improved nursing. II. Condition of nursing at the time — Miss Nightingale's influence in raising it from a menial occupation to a trained profession. IIL Force of her example — Enthusiasm excited by her among women. IV. Force of her precept — Notes on Nursing (1859-60) — The text -book of the New Model in Nursing — Popularity of the book — Reminiscences of the Crimea in it — " Minding Baby." V. Some characteristics of the book — General grasp of principles, combined with minute- nefs of detail — Delicacy of observation, and fineness of sym- pathy — Epigrammatic expression. VI. Importance of training in the art of nursing — The Notes as a prelude to practice. . 439 CHAPTER IV THE NIGHTINGALE NURSES (1860-1861) Importance of the Nightingale Training School — Early history of the " Nightingale Fund " — Accumulation of the money during Miss Nightingale's absorption in other work — Appointment of a working committee (1859) — Decision to found a Training School in connexion with St. Thomas's Hospital — Character of Mrs. Wardroper, matron of the hospital. II. Essential prin- ciples of Miss Nightingale's scheme : (i) technical, a Training School ; lectures, examinations, reports, etc. ; (2) moral, a home. III. Miss Nightingale's supervision — Favourable start of the XX CONTENTS PAGE school. IV. Further application of the Nightingale Fund to the training of midwives. V. Wide influence of the Night- ingale School — Novelty of the experiment — Medical opposition at the start — From paradox to commonplace . . . 456 CHAPTER V THE RELIGIOUS SANCTION : " SUGGESTIONS FOR THOUGHT " (i860) The reUgious sanction behind Miss Nightingale's hfe of work — Resumption of her theological speculations — Printing of her Suggestions for Thought — General character of the book. II. Miss Nightingale and John Stuart Mill — Her introduction to Benjamin Jowett — The book submitted to them — Mill's advice that it should be published, Jowett's that it should not — Literary imperfections — Her impatience of hterary revision. III. Scope of the book — Vehemence of style — Explanation of Mill's and Jowett's contrary advice. IV. Origin of the book — Sketch of her theological system — Thoughts on Prayer — God as Law — Influence of Quetelet — Doctrine of human perfecti- bility as explaining the existence of evil — Freewill and Necessity — BeUef in a future life — The philosophy of history — Motive for human conduct. V. Miss Nightingale's attitude to current creeds, Protestant and Catholic. VI. Spiritual intensity with which she held her creed .... 468 CHAPTER VI MISS NIGHTINGALE AT HOME (1858-1861) Continued ill-health — Serious illness and expectation of early death — Yet constant work — Doctor's opinions — Necessity for husbanding her strength. II. Consequent manner of Ufe — A laborious hermit — Help from her friends — A. H. Clough — Her uncle, Mr. S. Smith, and her private correspondence. III. Her places of residence — Highgate and Hampstead — The Burhngton Hotel in London — The Queen's ofier of rooms in Kensington Palace: why dechned — Her cats. IV. Reading and music — Her Itahan sympathies. V. Seclusion from visitors, friends and relations — Miss Nightingale and her father. VI. Correspondence with her friends — Associations of the Burhngton Hotel . . . . . .491 ILLUSTRATIONS FACE PAGE Mrs. Nightingale and her two Daughters : 1828. {From a water-colour drawing in possession of Mrs. Cunliffe) Frontispiece Florence Nightingale about 1845. {From a pencil drawing by her cousin, Miss Hilary Bonham Carter, in possession of Miss B. A. dough) ... 38 Florence Nightingale : about 1858. {From a photograph by Goodman) ....... 394 INTRODUCTORY Among Miss Nightingale's memoranda on books and reading, there is this injunction : " The preface of a book ought to set forth the importance of what it is going to treat of, so that the reader may understand what he is reading for." The saying is typical of the methodical and positive spirit which, as we shall learn, was one of the dominant strains in Miss Nightingale's work and character. She wanted to know at every stage precisely what a person, or a book, or an institution was driving at. "Of all human sounds," she said, " I think the words I don't know are the saddest." Unless a book had something of definite importance to say, it had better, she thought, not be written ; and in order to save the reader's time and fix his attention, he should be told at once wherein the significance of the book consists. This, though it may be a hard saying, is perhaps not unwholesome even to biographers. At any rate, as Miss Nightingale's biographer, I am moved to obey her injunction. I propose, therefore, in this Introductory chapter to state wherein, as I conceive, the significance and importance of Miss Nightin- gale's life consists, and what the work was that she did in the world. " In the course of a life's experience such as scarcely any one has ever had, I have always found," said Miss Nightingale,^ " that no one ever deserves his or her character. Be it better or worse than the real one, it is always unlike the real one." Of no one is this saying more true than of herself. " It has been your fate," said Mr. Jowett to her once, " to ^ In a letter to Madame Mohl, December 13, 1871. xxiv INTRODUCTORY become a Legend in your lifetime." Now, nothing is more persistent than a legend ; and the legend of Florence Nightingale became fixed early in her life — at a time, indeed, antecedent to that at which her best work in the world, as she thought, had begun. The popular imagination of Miss Nightingale is of a girl of high degree who, moved by a wave of pity, forsook the pleasures of fashionable life for the horrors of the Crimean War ; who went about the hospitals of Scutari with a lamp, scattering flowers of comfort and ministration ; who retired at the close of the war into private life, and lived thenceforth in the seclusion of an invalid's room — a seclusion varied only by good deeds to hospitals and nurses and by gracious and sentimental pieties. I do not mean, of course, that this was all that anybody knew or wrote about her. Any such suggestion would be far from the truth. But the popular idea of Florence Nightingale's life has been based on some such lines as I have indicated, and the general conception of her character is to this day founded upon them. The legend was fixed by Longfellow's poem and Miss Yonge's Golden Deeds. Its growth was favoured by the fact of Miss Nightingale's seclusion, by the hidden, almost the secretive, manner in which she worked, by her shrinking from publicity, by her extreme reticence about herself. It is only now, when her Papers are accessible, that her real life can be known. There are some elements of truth in the popular legend, but it is so remote from the whole truth as to convey in general impression everything but the truth. The real Florence Nightingale was very different from the legendary, but also greater. Her life was built on larger lines, her work had more importance, than belong to the legend. The Crimean War was not the first thing, and still less was it the last, that is significant in Miss Nightingale's hfe. The story of her earlier years is that of the building up of a char- acter. It shows us a girl of high natural ability and of considerable attractions feeling her way to an ideal alike in practice and in speculation. Having found it, she was thrown into revolt against the environment of her home. We shall see her pursuing her ideal with consistent, though with self-torturing, tenacity against alike the obstacles and the INTRODUCTORY xxv temptations of circumstance. She had aheady served an apprenticeship when the call to the Crimea came. It was a call not to " sacrifice," but to the fulfilment of her dearest wishes for a life of active usefulness. Such is the theme of the First Part, which I have called " Aspiration." Many other women have passed through similar experi- ences. But there is special significance in them in the case of Florence Nightingale — a significance both historic and personal. The glamour that surrounded her service in the Crimea, the wide-world publicity that was given to her name and deeds, invested with peculiar importance her fight for freedom. To do " as Florence Nightingale did " became an object of imitation which the well-to-do world was hence- forth readier to condone, or even to approve ; and thus the story of Miss Nightingale's earlier years is the history of a pioneer, on one side, in the emancipation of women. For the understanding of her own later life, the earlier years are all-important. They give the clue to her character, and explain much that would otherwise be puzzling or con- fused. Through great difficulties and at a heavy price she had purchased her birthright — her ideal of self- expression in work. On her return from the Crimea she was placed, on the one hand, owing to her fame, in a position of special opportunity ; on the other hand, owing to illness, in a position of special disability. She shaped her life hence- forward so as to make these two factors conform to the con- tinued fulfilment of her ideal. I need not here forestall what subsequent chapters will abundantly illustrate. I will only say that the resultant effect was a manner of life and work, both extraordinary, and, to me at least, of the greatest interest. The Second Part of the Memoir is devoted to the Crimean War. The popular conception with regard to Miss Nightin- gale's work during this episode in her life is not untrue so far as it goes, but it is amazingly short of the whole truth as now ascertainable from her Papers. The popular imagina- tion pictures Florence Nightingale at Scutari and in the Crimea as " the ministering angel." And such in very truth xxvi INTRODUCTORY she was. But the deeper significance of her work in the Crimean War Hes elsewhere. It was as Administrator and Reformer, more than as Angel, that she showed her peculiar powers. Queen Victoria, with native shrewdness and a touch of humour, hit off the truth about Miss Nightingale's services in the Crimea in concise words : " Such a clear head, I wish we had her at the War Office." The influence of Miss Nightingale's service in the Crimea was great. Some of it is obvious, and on the moral side Longfellow's poem said the first, and the last, word. She may also be accounted, if not the founder, yet the promoter of Female Nursing in war, and the Red Cross Societies through- out the world are, as we shall hear, the direct outcome of her labours in the Crimea, The indirect, and less obvious, results were in many spheres. From a sick-room in the West End of London Miss Nightingale played a part — and a much larger part than could be known without access to her Papers — in reforming the sanitary administration of the British army, in reconstructing hospitals throughout the world, in founding the modern art of nursing, in setting up a sanitary administration in India, and in promoting various other reforms in that country Miss Nightingale's return from the Crimea, it will thus be seen, was not the end of her active life. In a sense it was the beginning. The nursing at Scutari and in the Crimea was an episode. The fame which she shunned, but which neverthe- less came to her, gave her a starting-point for doing work which was destined, as she hoped, and as in large measure was granted, to be of permanent service to her country and the world. The first chapter of the Third Part shows her laying her plans for the health of the British soldier, and the subsequent chapters tell what followed. This is the period of Miss Nightingale's close co-operation with Sidney Herbert. To the writer this later phase of Miss Nightingale's life — with its ingenious adjustment of means to ends, its masterful resourcefulness, its incessant industry, and then with its perpetual struggle against physical weak- ness and its extraordinary power of devoted concentration — has seemed not less interesting than the Crimean episode. INTRODUCTORY xxvii The Fourth Part describes, as its main themes, the work which Miss Nightingale did, concurrently with that described in the preceding Part, as Hospital Reformer and the Founder of Modern Nursing. Other chapters introduce two topics which might at first sight seem widely separate, but which were yet closely associated in Miss Nightingale's mind. They deal with her, respectively, as a Passionate Statistician and as a Religious Thinker. The nature of her speculations is fully explained in the latter chapters, and elsewhere in the memoir. It will be seen that Miss Nightingale had thought out a scheme of religious belief which widely differed from the creeds of Christian orthodoxy, whether Catholic or Protestant, but which yet admitted of accommodation to much of their language and formularies. It admitted also, as will appear in due course, of close alliance with mysticism. Miss Nightingale believed intensely in a Personal God and in personal religion. The language which expressed most adequately to her the sense of union with God was the language of the Greek and Christian mystics. But " law " was to her " the thought of God " ; union with God meant co-operation with Him towards human perfectibility ; and for the discovery of " the thought of God " statistics were to her mind an indispensable means. In the Fifth Part we are introduced to a new interest in Miss Nightingale's life, a new sphere of her work. For forty years she worked at Indian questions. She took up the subject at first through interest in the army. It was a natural supplement to her efforts for the health of the British soldier at home, to make a like attempt on behalf of the army in India. Gradually she was drawn into other questions, and she became a keen Indian reformer all along the line. Her assiduity, her persistence, her ingenuity were as marked in this sphere as in others ; it was only her immediate success that was less. In relation to the primary object with which she began her Indian campaigns. Miss Nightingale's life and work have great importance. The Royal Commission of 1859-63, which was due to her, and the measures taken in consequence of its Report, were the starting-point of a new era in sanitary xxviii INTRODUCTORY improvement for the army. The results have been most salutary. Miss Nightingale's friendship with Lord Stanley and with Sir John Lawrence here served her somewhat as that with Mr. Herbert served in the earlier campaign. In the wider sphere of Indian sanitation generally Miss Nightin- gale's efforts were not so successful. The field was perhaps too vast, the conditions were too adverse, for any great and immediate success to be possible. Yet this and her other efforts for India were the part of Miss Nightingale's life and work to which she attached most importance, and by the record of which she set most store. Even in the Will (after- wards revoked) directing her Papers to be destroyed, she made exception of those relating to India ; and, as already stated in the preface, one of her few pieces of autobiographical record related to her Indian work. Perhaps it was the special affection which a mother often feels for the least robust or least successful child. Perhaps it was that she took long views ; and that, foreseeing a future time when many of the reforms for which she had toiled might be accomplished, she desired to be remembered as a pioneer. " Sanitation," said a high authority in 1894, " is the Cinderella of the Indian administrative family." ^ The difficulty of finding money and a reluctance to introduce Western reforms in advance of Eastern opinion are objections with which we shall often meet in the correspondence of Indian officials with Miss Nightingale, and they are still raised in the present day.^ On the other hand, the Under-Secretary for India, in his Budget Statement for 1913, declared that " the service which has the strongest claim after education on the resources of the Government is sanitation," and explained that " the Budget estimate of expenditure for sanitation comes this year to nearly £2,000,000, showing an increase of 112 per cent over the expenditure of three years ago." So perhaps Cinderella is to go to the ball ; if ever the glass slipper is ^ Sir Auckland Colvin in the Journal of the Society of Arts, May 11, 1894, p. 515. ^ As, for instance, in some of the speeches in the House of Lords on June 9, 1913, and in a leading article in the Times of the following day. The speech of Lord Midleton, in introducing the subject, was, on the other hand, upon Miss Nightingale's lines, being founded upon the Report of her Royal Commission of 1859-63. Some pages (194-197) in Mr. George Peel's The Future of England (191 1) are on similar lines. INTRODUCTORY xxix found, let it be remembered, as this Memoir will show, that Miss Nightingale was the good fairy. Her Indian work continued as long as she was able to work at all, and from 1862 onwards it forms one of the recurring themes in our story. The Sixth Part, while con- tinuing that subject, introduces another sphere in which Miss Nightingale's life and work have important significance. From the reform of Hospital Nursing she turned, in con- junction with the late ]\Ir. William Rathbone, to the reform of workhouse nursing. And as one thing led to another, it will be seen that Miss Nightingale deserves to be remembered also as a Poor Law Reformer. The Seventh Part comprises the last thirty-eight years of Miss Nightingale's life (1872-1910), and a word or two may here be said to explain an apparent alteration of scale. In a biography the scale must be proportionate not to the number of the years, but to their richness in characteristic signifi- cance. After 1872, the year in which (as Miss Nightingale put it) she went " out of office," her life was less full than theretofore in new activities. The germinant seeds had all been sown. But these later years, though they have ad- mitted of more summary treatment, were full of interest. The chapters in which they are recorded deal first with Miss Nightingale's literary work, and more especially with her studies in Plato and the Christian mystics. These studies were in part a result of her close friendship of thirty years with Mr. Jowett. Then, too, occasion is found for an endeavour to portray Miss Nightingale as the Mother-Chief (for so they called her) of the Nurses. It is only by access to her enormous correspondence in this sort that the range and extent of her personal influence can be measured. Her ideal of the nursing vocation stands out very clearly from the famous " Nurses' Battle " which occupied much of her later years. She found an opportunity during the same period to start an important experiment in Rural Hygiene. At the same time she was preaching indefatigably the need of Health missionaries in Indian villages. And then came the end. To the time of labour, there succeeds in every life, XXX INTRODUCTORY says Ruskin, " the time of death ; which in happy Hves is very short, but always a time." In the case of Miss Nightin- gale the time was long. She lived for many years after the power to labour was gone. II So much, by way of preface, in explanation of the significance of Miss Nightingale's life and work. But this book endeavours to depict a character, as well as to record a career. There has been much discussion, in our days as in others, of the proper scope and method of biography, and various models are held up, in one sense or another, to practitioners in this difficult art. The questions are pro- pounded, whether biography should describe a person's life or his character ? his work or how he did it ? If the person did anything worthy of record, a biography should, surely, describe alike the life and the character, the work and the methods. The biogi-apher may fail in his attempt ; but in the case of Miss Nightingale the attempt is peculiarly necessary, because all that she did and the manner in which she did it were, as it has seemed to me, characteristic of a strongly-marked personality behind them. This book is, however, a biography and not a history. It is not a history of the Crimean War, nor of nursing, nor of Indian administration. Something on all these matters will be found in it ; but only so much of detail as was necessary to place Miss Nightingale's work in its true light and to exhibit her characteristic methods. So, also, many other persons will pass across the stage — persons drawn from a great many different classes, occupations, walks in life ; but the book does not aim at giving a detailed picture of " Miss Nightingale's circle." Her relations, her friends, her acquaintances, her correspondents only concern us here in so far as their dealings with her affected her work, or illustrate her character. Here, again — to revert to what has been said above — it will be found, I think, that this book possesses a certain significance as correcting, or supplementing, a popular legend. A preacher, in an obituary sermon upon Miss Nightingale, said that all her work was done " by force of INTRODUCTORY xxxi simple goodness." Assuredly Miss Nightingale was a good woman, and there was also a certain simplicity about her. But there was much else. A man of affairs, who in the course of a long and varied life had come in contact with many of the acutest intellects and greatest administrators of the time, said of Miss Nightingale that hers was the clearest brain he had ever known in man or woman. Strength of head was quite as marked in her as goodness of heart, and she had at least as much of adroitness as of simplicity. Her character was in fact curiously many-sided. A remarkable variety of interests, motives, methods will be found coming into play in the course of this record. The Florence Nightin- gale who will be shown in it — by her acts, her methods, her sayings, her ways of looking at things and people — is a very different person from Santa Filomena. Miss Nightingale has been given a place among the saints in the popular calendars of many nations ; and she deserves the canonisa- tion, but not entirely for the popular reasons. Her char- acter, as I have endeavoured to depict it, was stronger, more spacious, and, as I have felt, more lovable than that of The Lady with the Lamp. PART I ASPIRATION (1820-1854) I go to prove my soul ! I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive — what time, what circuit first, I ask not ; but unless God send his hail Or bhnding fire-balls, sleet, or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive : He guides me and the bird. In his good time. Browning : Paracelsus. VOL. I CHAPTER I CHILDHOOD AND EDUCATION (1820-1839) I found her in her chamber reading Phaedon Platonis in Greek, and that with as much pleasure as some gentlemen would read a merry tale in Bocace. — Roger Ascham. To the tender sentiment and popular adoration that gathered around the subject of this Memoir, something perhaps was added by the beauty of a name which hnked together the City of the Flowers and the music of the birds. Her sur- name suggested to Longfellow the title of the poem which has carried home to the hearts of thousands in two continents a lesson of her life. The popularity of " Florence " — in the Middle Ages a masculine name — as a Christian name for Englisli girls is noted by the historian of that subject as due to association with the heroine of the Crimea. Both of her names were the result of circumstance. Her father came of the old Derbyshire family of Shore of Tapton, and changed his name in 1815 from William Edward Shore to William Edward Nightingale on succeeding to the pro- perty of his mother's uncle, Peter Nightingale of Lea, in the same county. Mr. William Nightingale was fond of travel, and the close of the French war, shortly before his marriage (1818), had thrown the Continent open to the grand tour. Mr. and Mrs. Nightingale's only children, two daughters, were bom during a sojourn in Italy. The elder was born at Naples in 1819, and was named, firstly, Frances, 3 4 PARENTAGE AND BIRTHPLACE pt.i after her mother, and, secondly, after the old Greek settle- ment on the site of her birthplace, Parthenope. She after- wards became the second wife of Sir Harry Verney.^ The younger daughter, the subject of this Memoir, was also named after her birthplace. She was born at Florence on May 12, 1820, in the Villa Colombaia, near the Porta Romana, as a memorial-tablet now affixed to the house records ; and there on the 4th of July she was baptized by Dr. Trevor, Prebendary of Chester. The place-names became in familiar intercourse " Parthe " or " Pop," and " Flo." " The surprises of sainthood," said a speaker at a Congress on Eugenics, " are no less remarkable than those of genius. St. Francis of Assisi, St. Catherine of Siena, and Florence Nightingale could no more have been predicted from their ancestry than Napoleon, Beethoven, Michael Angelo, or Shakespeare." But the peculiarities of tissue on which some physical characteristics are held to depend can, at any rate, be inherited. Florence Nightingale's mother was one of the eleven children of William Smith of Parndon Hall, Essex, of whom Sir James Stephen said : " When he had nearly completed four score years, he could still gratefully acknowledge that he had no remembrance of any bodily pain or illness, and that of the very numerous family of which he was the head every member still lived to support and gladden his old age." This statement is not absolutely correct, for one child did not long survive its birth ; but of the other sons and daughters of William Smith, none died at an earlier age than 69, two lived to be more than 75, six to be more than 80, and one to be more than 90. This last was Frances, Mrs. Nightingale, who lived to be 92. On the father's side there was longevity also. Mr. Nightingale himself lived to be 80. His mother lived to be 95 ; he had an aunt who lived to be 90 ; and " your uncle," wrote his father, " young at 82, enters into politics of the present moment with all the ardour of 22." Of the children of Mr. and Mrs. WilHam Nightingale, Par- thenope lived to be 75, and Florence, though (or, in part, ^ To avoid confusion, I sometimes refer to her before her marriage as " Lady Verney," reserving " Miss Nightingale " throughout for Florence. cH.i WILLIAM SMITH, OF PARNDON 5 perhaps, because) she Hved for 53 years the Hfe of an invalid, attained the age of 90. Florence Nightingale, whether saint or not, was certainly conscious of a " call " ; but there was nothing in her descent or inheritance which encouraged her parents to allow it to become readily effectual. Because she was a woman, her early life was one long struggle for liberation from circum- stance and social prepossessions. Yet there were features in her mental equipment and intellectual outlook which may well have been inherited, and which certainly owed much to environment. Sir James Stephen adds to the remarks quoted above that if William Smith " had gone mourning all his days, he could scarcely have acquired a more tender pity for the miserable, or have laboured more habitually for their relief." In politics he was a follower of Fox. He was a friend of Wilberforce, with whom he co-operated in the House of Commons in the Abolitionist and other humani- tarian movements. Of Wilberforce, as of Thomas Clarkson, " he possessed the almost brotherly love, and of all their fellow-labourers there was none who was more devoted to their cause, or whom they more entirely trusted." ^ In religion a Unitarian, he was a stout defender of liberty of thought and conscience, a persistent opponent of religious tests and disabilities. The liberal opinions, alike in Church and State, which were thus traditional in the family of Florence Nightingale's mother, were shared by that of her father. Her grandfather Shore, in a letter to his son in 1818, referred to " one of the finest pieces of eloquence either in ancient or modern times, given by Sir Samuel RomUly in the Court of Chancery on a motion respecting the right of Jews to the benefit of a charity in Bedford. It does honour to the man and to human nature." Florence Nightingale's father was also a Unitarian ; and in politics he was a Whig. " How I hate Tories," he wrote to his wife ; and in another letter, after the election of 1835, in which the hated ones had gained ground, he explained that they were mighty only " by Beer, Brandy, and Money." The Whigs, as is ^ Essays in Ecclesiastical Biography, " The Clapham Sect," pp. 543- 544 (ed. i860). Miss Nightingale referred to this association of her grand- father with Wilberforce and Clarkson in one of her Addresses to Probationers (1875). 6 MISS NIGHTINGALE'S FATHER pt.i well known, were not all lacking in the latter equipment for political success, and Mr. Nightingale was a frequent subscriber to electoral funds on the Whig side. He was an ardent supporter of Parliamentary Reform. He held that " Bentham has taught great moral truth more effectually than all the Christian divines." At a later time he was a follower of Lord Palmerston, of whom he was also a neigh- bour in the country. One of the earliest notices which I find of Florence Nightingale's interest in politics is in a letter from her father describing a meeting at Romsey to which he had taken her. " Florence," he says, " approved very much Palmerston's exposition of his foreign policy." Something else Florence Nightingale owed to, or shared with, her father. He, like some other members of his family, was of a reflective temperament, interested in speculative problems. There is a letter written by him to his wife from his father's sick-room (Sept. 1822) which shows the bent of his thoughts : — I sit by his bedside and look at him as one would at a sleeping man, the idea of death only now and then flashing across my mind. I have been studying Mad. de Stael on the feeling of conviction, which exists more or less in different people and different nations, on the subject of soul as independent of external ideas. My imagination is a dull one, for it certainly required study with me to feel the full force of conviction that soul does and must exist quite separately from, though influenced by, external circumstances. You will say, I know, with a firm belief in Scripture and religion, Leave all philosophical speculation to the wild imaginations of the Germans. Nothing can change your reliance on religion. The perversity of my nature refers me to experience and analogies, though I begin to think that the study of the creation displayed before our faculties will exalt me into a conception of Divinity completely pervading the whole, but particularly that part of man which enables him to feel the difference between right and wrong independently of the ideas which he derives from external circumstances. Florence Nightingale's mother accepted the religious standpoint of the day without question. Unitarianism was dropped by her and by her elder daughter ; by Florence it was, as we shall hear, transcended. The mother's essential bent was practical, though the scope of it was somewhat cH.i FAMILY CIRCUMSTANCES 7 limited. The mind of her daughter Florence found room in equal measure for practice and for contemplation. She inherited her mother's organising capacity, though she turned it to directions of her own. It was from her father that she inherited the taste for speculative inquiry which absorbed a large part of her life. II From the worldly circumstances of her parents Florence came to draw conclusions little sympathetic, in some respects, with existing usages and conventions. She accepted, indeed, the position of worldly wealth into which she was born with- out any fundamental questioning. In later years a young friend, on being urged to visit the villagers around one of Miss Nightingale's country homes, explained that she did not like the relation, she could not bring herself to go from a big comfortable house to instruct poor people how to live. Miss Nightingale laughed, and said, " You surely don't call Lea Hurst a big house." It had only about fifteen bedrooms. She took for granted the position into which she was born. But she thought that wealth should only be used as a means of work. The easy, comfortable, not very strenuous condi- tions of her home life as a girl fixed the nature of her earlier years, but her soul did not become rooted in them. They sowed seeds which grew, as the years passed, not into ac- quiescence, but into revolt. Mr. Nightingale had inherited his great-uncle's property when nine years old. It accumu- lated for him, and a lead mine added greatly to its value. By the time of his marriage he was blessed (or, as his younger daughter came to think, afflicted) by the possession of a considerable fortune. Whether it were indeed a blessing or an affliction, it involved him in much uncertainty of mind. He and his wife returned from the Continent with their infant daughters in 1821, and the question became urgent, Where to live ? The landed property which he inherited from his great-uncle was a comparatively small estate at and around Lea Hall in Derbyshire. To this property he added largely. The Hall, the old residence of his great- uncle, was discarded (it is now used as a farm-house), and 8 LEA HURST, DERBYSHIRE pt.i Mr. Nightingale built a new house, called Lea Hurst. The charm of its situation and prospect is described in a letter by Mrs. Gaskell : — " High as Lea Hurst is, one seems on a pinnacle, with the clouds careering round one. Down below is a garden with stone terraces and flights of steps — the planes of these terraces being perfectly gorgeous with masses of hollyhocks, dahhas, nasturtiums, geraniums, etc. Then a sloping meadow losing itself in a steep wooded descent (such tints over the wood !) to the river Derwent, the rocks on the other side of which form the first distance, and are of a red colour streaked with misty purple. Beyond this, interlacing hills, forming three ranges of distance ; the first, deep brown with decaying heather ; the next, in some purple shadow, and the last catching some pale, watery sunlight." " I am left alone." continued Mrs. Gaskell, " established high up, in two rooms, opening one out of the other — the old nurseries." (The inner one, in which Mrs. Gaskell slept, was, when Parthenope grew up, her bedroom.) " It is curious how simple it is. The old carpet doesn't cover the floor. No easy chair, no sofa, a httle curtainless bed, a small glass. In the outer room — the former day nursery — Miss Florence's room when she is at home, everything is equally simple ; now, of course, the bed is reconverted into a sofa ; two small tables, a few bookshelves, a drab carpet only partially covering the clean boards, and stone-coloured walls — as cold in colouring as need be, but with one low window on one side, trellised over with Virginian creeper as gorgeous as can be ; and the opposite one, by which I am writing, looking over such country ! " ^ The sound of the Derwent was often in Florence's ears. When she was in the Hospital at Scutari any fretting in the Straits recalled it to her. " How I like," she said on a stormy night, " to hear that ceaseless roar ; it puts me in mind of the dear Derwent ; how often I have listened to it from the nursery window." Lea Hurst became one of Florence Nightingale's earliest homes in England, but it was not the earliest of all. The house was not built when the family returned from the Continent, and Mr. Nightingale took Kynsham Court, ^ From a letter to Catherine Winkworth, October 20, 1854, kindly communicated by Miss Meta Gaskell. Mrs. Gaskell had gone to stay at Lea Hurst with the understanding that she was to have a quiet time for writing, remaining in the house as long as she might wish after the family had left it. For other passages from the letter, see pp. 39, 41, 139. cH.i EMBLEY, HAMPSHIRE 9 Presteigne, in Herefordshire. The place, it seems, was " more picturesque than habitable," and negotiations for the purchase of it, with a view to improvements, fell through. Mr. Nightingale liked Derbyshire, and was fond of his new house ; but the rich, as well as the poor, have their per- plexities. " The difficulty is," wrote Mr. Nightingale to his wife, " where is the county that is habitable for twelve successive months ? " And, again, " How would you like Leicestershire ? For my part, I think that, provided I could get about 2000 acres and a house in some neighbour- ing county where sporting and scenery were in tolerable abundance, and the visit to Lea Hurst were annually confined to July, August, September, and October, then all would be well." While Mrs. Nightingale stayed at Kynsham, or took the children for change of air to the seaside or Tunbridge Wells, Mr. Nightingale divided his time between the manage- ment of his property in Derbyshire and the search for a second home elsewhere. Ultimately he found what he wanted at Embley Park in the parish of Wellow, near Romsey. This estate was bought in 1825, and Kynsham was given up. Embley is on the edge of the New Forest, and the rich growth of its woods and gardens is much favoured by sun and moisture. Old oaks and beeches, thickets of flowering laurel and rhododendron, and a profusion of flowers and scents, contrast with the bare breezy hills of Derbyshire. Its new owners had here the variety they wished for, and a full scope for their taste. The most praised of its beauties is a long road almost shut in by masses of rhododendron. One of the occasional pleasures of Miss Nightingale's later life in London was a drive in the Park, in rhododendron- time, " to remind her of Embley." Ill From her fifth year onwards Florence Nightingale had, then, for her homes Lea Hurst in the summer months and Embley during the rest of the year. The family usually spent a portion of the season in London. The sisters led, it will thus be seen, a life mainly in the country, and Florence as a child became fond of flowers, birds, and beasts. A neatly printed manuscript-book is preserved, in which she made a catalogue 10 CHILDHOOD pt. i of her collection of flowers, describing each with analytical accuracy, and noting the particular spot at which it was picked. Her childish letters contain many references to animal companions. She made particular friends with the nuthatch. She had a pet pig, a pet donkey, a pet pony. She was fond of riding, and fond of dogs. " A small pet animal," she said many years afterwards, " is often an excellent companion for the sick, for long chronic cases especially." " The more I see of men," wrote a cynic, " the more I love dogs." Florence Nightingale, in the same piece from which I have just quoted, drew a like moral from her experience of some nurses. " An invalid," she said, " in giving an account of his nursing by a nurse and a dog, infinitely preferred that of the dog. ' Above all,' he said, ' it did not talk.' " ^ There were no babies in the Nightingale family after the arrival of Florence herself, but most of her mother's many brothers and sisters married and had families ; and as Mr. and Mrs. Nightingale's houses were often visited by these relations, there was seldom wanting a succession of babies, and in them and their christenings, and teethings, and illnesses, and lessons, Florence took that interest which is often strong in little girls. Sometimes a baby died, and her letters show that Florence was as much interested in a death as in a birth. She rejoiced in " the little angels in heaven." One of her favourite poems at this period was The Better Land of Mrs. Hemans, which she copied out for a cousin as "so very beautiful." The earliest letter which I have seen, written when she was ten, strikes mingled notes. She is staying with Uncle Octavius Smith at " Thames Bank " (a house which then adjoined his distillery at Millbank), and writes to her sister, who is on a visit with the maid to another set of cousins : — Give my love to Clemence, and tell her, if you please, that I am not in the room where she established me, but in a very small one ; instead of the beautiful view of the Thames, a most dismal one of the black distillery, and, whenever I open my window, the nasty smell rushes in like a torrent. But I like it pretty well notwithstanding. There is a hole through the wall ^ Notes on Nursing, ed. i860, p. 147 n. cH.i THE PLEASURES OF NAUGHTINESS ii close to my door, wliich communicates with the bath-room, which is next the room where Freddy ^ sleeps, and he talks to me by there. Tell her also, if you please, that I have washed myself all over and feet in warm water since I came every night. I went up into the distillery to the very tip-top by ladders with Uncle Oc and Fred Saturday night. We walked along a great pipe. We have had a good deal of boating which I hke very much. We see three steam-boats pass every day, the Diana, the Fly, and the Endeavour. My love to all of them except Miss W . Give my love particularly to Hilary. Your affecte and only sister. Dear Pop, I think of you, pray let us love one another more than we have done. Mama wishes it particularly, it is the will of God, and it will comfort us in our trials through hfe. Good-bye. Was Miss W an unsympathetic governess ? Whoever she was, the exception in her disfavour shows an unregenerate impulse which contrasts naively with the following good resolve towards her sister. To a year earlier belongs a little note-book, entitled " Journal of Flo, Embley." It begins with the reminder, " The Lord is with thee wherever thou art." And then an entry records, " Sunday, I obliged to sit still by Miss Christie till I had the spirit of obedience." As a child, and throughout all the earlier part of her life, Florence was much given to dreaming, and in some intro- spective speculations written in 185 1 she recalled the pleasures of naughtiness. " When I was a child and was naughty, it always put an end to my dreaming for the time. I never could tell why. Was it because naughtiness was a more interesting state than the little motives which make man's peaceful civilized state, and occupied imagination for the time ? " To Miss Christie, her first governess, Florence became greatly attached, and the death of the lady a few years later threw her into deep grief. She was a sensitive, and a somewhat morbid child ; and though she presently developed a lively sense of humour, to which she had the capacity of giving trenchant expression, it was the humour of intellect rather than the outcome of a ^ Freddy, who was a bright, promising boy, went with Sir George Grey on his journey of exploration in Australia, and there died of starvation. In Rees's Life of Sir George Grey a note was made, by Sir George's desire, as to his having " met the death of a martyr in the cause of science and dis- covery, led on by personal friendship and affection for Sir George himself." 12 EDUCATION ft. 1 joyous disposition. Her early letters contain little note of childish fun. They are for the most part grave and intro- spective. She was self-absorbed, and had the shyness which attends upon that habit. " My greatest ambition," she wrote in some private reminiscences of her early life, " was not to be remarked. I was always in mortal fear of doing something unlike other people, and I said, ' If I were sure that nobody would remark me I should be quite happy.' I had a morbid terror of not using my knives and forks like other people when I should come out. I was afraid of speaking to children because I was sure I should not please them." Meanwhile, she was perhaps at times, even as a child, a little " difficult " at home. " Ask Flo," wrote her father to his wife in 1832, " if she has lost her intellect. If not, why does she grumble at troubles which she cannot remedy by grumbling ? " IV The appeal to his daughter's intellect was characteristic of Mr. Nightingale. He was himself a well-informed man, educated at Edinburgh, and Trinity, Cambridge ; and, like some others of the Unitarian circle, he held views much in ad- vance of the average opinion of his time about the intellectual education of women. The home education of his daughters was largely supervised by himself ; it included a range of subjects far outside the curriculum current in " young ladies' seminaries " ; and perhaps, like Hannah More's father, he was sometimes " frightened at his own success." Letters and note-books show, it is true, that his daughters were duly instructed in the accomplishments deemed appropriate to young ladies. We hear of them learning the use of the globes, writing books of elegant extracts, working footstools, and doing fancy work. They studied music, grammar, composition, modern languages. " We used to read Tasso and Ariosto and Alfieri with my father," Florence said ; "he was a good and always interested Italian scholar, never pedantic, never a tiresome grammarian, but he spoke Italian like an Italian and I took care of the verbs." Mr. Nightingale added constitutional history, Latin, Greek, and mathematics. By .the time Florence was sixteen, he was cH.i LEARNED STUDIES 13 reading Homer with his daughters. Miss Nightingale used to say that at Greek her sister was the quicker scholar. Their father set them appointed tasks to prepare. Parthenope would trust largely to improvisation or lucky shots. Florence was more laborious ; and sometimes would get up at four in the morning to prepare the lesson. Her knowledge of Latin was of some practical use in later years. In con- versations with abbots and monks whom she met during her travels she sometimes found in Latin their only common tongue. Among Florence's papers were preserved many sheets in her father's handwriting, containing the heads of admirable outlines of the political history of England and of some foreign states. Her own note-books show that in her teens she had mastered the elements of Latin and Greek. She analysed the Tusculan Disputations. She translated portions of the Phaedo, the Crito and the Apology. She had studied Roman, German, Italian, and Turkish history. She had analysed Dugald Stewart's Philosophy of the Human Mind. Her father was in the habit, too, of suggesting themes on which his daughters were to write compositions. It was the system of the College Essay. " Florence has now taken to mathematics," wrote her sister in 1840, " and, like every- thing she undertakes, she is deep in them and working very hard." The direction in which Florence Nightingale was to exercise the faculties thus trained was as yet hidden in the future ; but to her father's guidance she was indebted for the mental grasp and power of intellectual concentration which were to distinguish her work in life. It is a natural temptation of biographers to give a formal unity to their subject by representing the child as in all things the father of the man ; to date the vocation of their hero or heroine very early in life ; to magnify some childish incident as prophetic of what is to come thereafter. Material is available for such treatment in the case of Florence Nightingale. It has been recorded that she used to nurse and bandage the dolls which her elder sister damaged. Every book about the heroine of the Crimea contains, too, a tale of " first aid to the wounded " which Florence adminis- tered to Cap, the shepherd's collie, whom she found with a broken leg on the downs near Embley. " I wonder," wrote 14 CHILDISH NURSING pt.i her " old Pastor " ^ to her in 1858, " whether you remember how, twenty-two years ago, you and I together averted the intended hanging of poor old Shepherd Smithers's dog, Cap. How many times I have told the story since ! I well recollect the pleasure which the saving of the life of a poor dog then gave to your young mind. I was delighted to witness it ; it was to me not indeed an omen of what you were about to do and be (for of that I never dreamed), but it was an index of that kind and benevolent disposition, of that I Cor, xiii. Charity, which has been at the root of it." And it is certainly interesting and curious, if nothing more, that the very earliest piece in the handwriting of Florence Nightingale which has been preserved should be a medical prescription. It is contained in a tiny book, about the size of a postage-stamp, which the little girl stitched together and in which the instruction is written, in very childish letters, " 16 grains for an old woman, 11 for a young woman, and 7 for a child." But these things are after all but trifles. Florence Nightingale is not the only little girl who has been fond of nursing sick dolls or mending them when broken. Other children have tended wounded animals and had their pill-boxes and simples. Much, too, has been written about Florence's kindness as a child to her poorer neighbours. Her mother, both at Lea Hurst and at Embley, sometimes occupied herself in good works. She and her husband were particularly interested in a " cheap school " which they supported at their Derbyshire home. " Large sums of money have been paid," wrote Mr. Nightingale to his wife in 1832, " to your schoolmistress for many praiseworthy purposes, who works con amore in looking after the whole population, young and old." Florence took her place, beside her mother, in visiting poor neighbours, in arranging school- treats, in giving village entertainments. But thousands of other squires' daughters, before and after her, have done the like. And Florence herself, as many entries in her diaries show, was not conscious of doing much, but reproachful of herself for doing Httle. The constant burden of her self- examination, both at this time and for many years to come, was that she was for ever " dreaming " and never " doing." 1 The Rev. J. T. GifEard. cH.i FLORENCE'S FIRST CALL 15 She was dreaming because for a long time she did not clearly feel or see what her work in life was to be ; and then for yet another period of time because, when she knew what she was called to do, she could not compass the means to do it. Her faculties were not brought outwards, but were left, by the conditions of her life, to devour themselves inwardly. The discovery of her true vocation belongs, then, to a later period of our story ; and it was not the result of childish fancy, or the accomplishment of early incident ; it was the fruit of long and earnest study. What did come to Florence Nightingale early in life — perhaps, as one entry in her auto- biographical notes suggests, as early as her sixth year — was the sense of a " call " ; of some appointed mission in life ; of self -dedication to the service of God. " I remember her," wrote Fanny Allen in 1857 ^^ her niece Elizabeth Wedgwood, " as a little girl of three or four, then the girl of sixteen of high promise. When I look back on every time I saw her after her sixteenth year, I see that she was ripening constantly for her work, and that her mind was dwelling on the painful differences of man and man in this life, and on the traps that a luxurious life laid for the affluent. A conversa- tion on this subject between the father and daughter made me laugh at the time, the contrast was so striking ; but now, as I remember it, it was the Divine Spirit breathing in her." ^ In an autobiographical fragment written in 1867 Florence mentions as one of the crises of her inner life that " God called htr to His service " on February 7, 1837, ^^ Embley ; and there are later notes which still fix that day as the dawn of her true life. But as yet she knew not whither the Spirit was to lead. For three months, indeed, as she notes in another passage of retrospect, she " worked very hard among the poor people " under " a strong feeling of religion." V Presently, however, a new direction was given to her thoughts and interests. She was now seventeen, her sister eighteen. Their home education had been far .advanced, and might seem to require only such " finishing " as masters and society in France and Italy could supply. Mr. Nightin- ^ A Century of Family Letters, vol. ii. p. 174. i6 FOREIGN TOUR: 1837-9 ^^.i gale had, moreover, decided to carry out extensive altera- tions at Embley. With his wife and daughters, he crossed from Southampton to Havre on September 8, 1837, ^^^ they did not return to England till April 6, 1839. Those were days of leisurely travel, such as Ruskin describes, in which " distance could not be vanquished without toil, but in which that toil was rewarded, partly by the power of de- liberate survey of the countries through which the journey lay, and partly by the happiness of the evening hours, when from the top of the last hill he had surmounted, the traveller beheld the quiet village where he was to rest, scattered among the meadows beside its valley stream ; or, from the long- hoped-for turn in the dusty perspective of the causeway, saw, for the first time, the towers of some famed city, faint in the rays of sunset — hours of peaceful and thoughtful pleasure, for which the rush of the arrival in the railway station is perhaps not always, or to all men, an equivalent." There were many such hours during the journeys which the Nightingales took with a vetturino through France and Italy ; and Florence, writing at a later date, when all her life was fixed on doing, noted that on this tour there was " too much time for dreaming." Yet it is clear from her diaries that she entered heartily, and with a wider range of interest than some English travellers show, into the life of foreign society and sight-seeing. A love of statistical method which became one of her most marked characteristics may already be seen in an itinerary which she compiled ; noting, in its several columns, the number of leagues from place to place, with the day and the hour both of arrival and of departure. They went leisurely through France, visiting, besides many other places, Chartres, Blois, Tours, Nantes, Bordeaux, Biarritz, Carcassonne, Nimes, Avignon, and Toulon, and then going by the Riviera to Nice. There they stayed for nearly a month (Dec. 1837-Jan. 1838). A month was next spent at Genoa, and two months were given to Florence. The late spring and summer were devoted to travel in the cities of Northern Italy, among the lakes, and in Switzerland. They spent the month of September in Geneva, and reached Paris on October 8, 1838. Miss Nightingale preserved her diary of the greater part of the tour, and it shows her keenly interested cH.i SISMONDI AT GENEVA 17 alike in scenery and in works of art. It contains also, what records of sentimental pilgrimages often lack, an admixture of notes and statistics upon the laws, the land systems, the social conditions and benevolent institutions of the several states or cantons. Her interest in the politics of the day was keen wherever she was ; and the society of many refugees into which she was thrown at Geneva gave her a particularly ardent sympathy with the cause of Italian freedom. The diary contains many biographical notes upon Italian patriots, whose adventures she heard related by their own lips. " A stirring day," she wrote on September 12 (1838), " the most stirring which we have ever lived." It was the day on which the news reached Geneva that the Emperor of Austria had declared an amnesty in Italy. The Nightingales attended an evening party at which the Italian refugees assembled and the Imperial decree was read out amidst loud jubilation ; which, however, was afterwards abated when it turned out that the " general amnesty " contained many conditions and some exceptions. The Nightingales had the entree to all the learned society of Geneva. Florence records an evening spent with M. de CandoUe, the famous botanist ; and the diary gives many glimpses of Sismondi, the historian, who was then living in his native city. He escorted the Nightingale party up the Saleve. They made that not very formidable ascent first on donkeys and then " in a sledge covered with straw and drawn by four oxen." Florence was present on another occasion when " all the company gathered round Sismondi who, sitting on a table, gave us a lecture on Florentine history." The conscientious Florence made a full note in her diary of the great man's discourse. " All Sismondi's political economy," she also noted, " seems to be founded on the overflowing kindness of his heart. He gives to old beggars on principle, to young from habit. At Pescia he had 300 beggars at his door on one morning. He feeds the mice in his room while he is writing his histories." Presently there was a new excitement in Geneva. " What a stirring time we live in," Florence wrote on September 18 ; " one day to decide the fate of the Italians, to-morrow to decide the fate of Switzerland." " To-morrow " was the day fixed for the meeting of the Conseil Representatif VOL. I C i8 LOUIS NAPOLEON pt. i which was to take into consideration the demand of Louis PhiHppe for the expulsion of Louis Napoleon, the future Emperor. Many pages of Miss Nightingale's diary are given up to this affair. She analysed all the pros and cons, and recorded day by day the course of the debate. Sismondi thought that the refugee ought to be surrendered — on principle because he was a pretender, in expediency because Geneva would be unable to withstand a French assault. He " spoke for an hour " in this sense. The Genevois radicals, on the other hand, while entertaining no great love for the pretender, thought that, cost what it might, " the sacred right of asylum " should be maintained. And so the debate continued. The French Government began to move troops from Lyons ; the Genevois, to throw up fortifications. Whereupon Mr. Nightingale, like many other English visitors, thought it time to take his family across the frontier. Miss Nightingale's diary written en route to Paris shows her excitement to obtain news of the crisis. When she learnt that it had been solved by Louis Napoleon being given a passport for England, she did not see that Louis Philippe had gained very much ; the pretender would be nearer, and not less dangerous, in London than in Geneva — a very just prediction. Not every girl of eighteen, when taking her first tour abroad, shows so lively an interest in political affairs. Politics and social observations mingle in the diary with artistic and architectural notes. The city which seems most to have appealed to her imagination was not Florence ; though she said that she " would not have missed it for anything," and, curiously, her sojourn in her birthplace was the occasion of a characteristic incident. An English lady, who afterwards became Princess Reuss Kostritz, was staying in the same lodgings and fell ill, and Florence Nightingale volunteered to nurse her. But the city which she most admired was Genoa La Superba. She notes indeed the excessive indolence of the nobles and excessive poverty of the people, but the palaces " realized an Arabian Nights story " for her. Mr. and Mrs. Nightingale had many friends and brought many introductions. In the various towns where they stayed they mixed in the best society, and their cH. I " MUSIC-MAD " 19 daughters were thrown into a Hvely round of picnics, concerts, soirees, dancing : Balls and masks begun at midnight, burning ever to mid-day, \Vhen they made up fresh adventures for the morrow — There were Court balls at which Grand Dukes were " exceed- ingly polite " to Florence Nightingale and her sister. They went to an evening Court at Florence, and found " everyone most courteous and agreeable." There was a ball at the Casino in Genoa, at which, writes Florence in her diary, " my partner and I made an emhrouillement, and a military oihcer came up with a very angry face to challenge me for having refused him and then not dancing." But the music was not all to the tune of "A Toccata of Galuppi's." What gave Florence the greatest pleasure on this tour was the Italian opera. In those days the reigning singers were Grisi, Lablache, Rubini, and Tamburini. Florence Nightingale heard them all. Her Italian diary is nowhere so elaborate as in descriptions of the operas and in notes on the per- formers. She kept a separate book in which she wrote tabulated details of all the performances. " I should like to go every night," she said in her diary ; and for some time after her return from the Continent she was, as she wrote to Miss Clarke, " music-mad." She took music-lessons at Florence, and in London studied under German and Italian masters. She played and sang. It was as yet uncertain whether " the call " — to what, as yet also unknown — might not be di owned in the tastes, interests, and pursuits which fill the life of other young ladies in her position. VI The fascination of social life must have been brought vividly before her during the winter (1838-39) which they spent in Paris, in apartments in the Place Vendome (No. 22) . She was now introduced into the brilliant circle of the last of the salons. Mary Clarke, afterwards Madame Mohl, was by descent half Irish, half Scottish ; by education and residence, almost wholly French. " A charming mixture," said Ampere of her, " of French vivacity and English origin- 20 MADAME R^CAMIER'S SALON pt.i ality." Full at once of esprit and of espieglerie, well read and artistic yet wholly devoid of pedantry, without regular beauty of feature, but alert and piquante, Mary Clarke had gathered round her what Ticknor in 1837 had found the most intellectual circle in Paris. For seven years she and her mother lived in apartments in the Abbaye-au-Bois, adjoin- ing those of Madame Recamier, and Mary was a daily visitor to the famous salon during the reign of Chateaubriand, whose closing years she did much to brighten and amuse. At the time when the Nightingales arrived in Paris, Mrs. and Miss Clarke had left the Abbaye-au-Bois and established themselves in those apartments in the Rue du Bac which for nearly forty years were a haunt of all that was brilliant in the intellectual life of Paris. Mary Clarke took most affectionately to the Nightingale family, who, with some of their connections, remained for long years among her closest friends. She used to pay a yearly visit to Mr. and Mrs. Nightingale, either at Embley or at Lea Hurst, generally staying three weeks or a month ; and to her many of Florence's most interesting letters were, as we shall find, addressed. To her other and more superficial qualities, Mary Clarke added great warmth of lasting affection for her intimate friends, and her sympathetic kindness to the Nightingale circle was unfailing. The attraction of Paris to Florence lay principally in its hospitals and nursing sister- hoods, but partly also in that it was the home of " Clarkey," as they called her. And it was the same with other members of the family. There is a letter from Lady Verney to Clarkey which describes how some one asked Mr. Nightingale, " Are you going to Paris ? " " Oh, no," he replied ; " Madame Mohl is ill." " Then does Paris mean Madame Mohl ? " " Yes, certainly," he replied gravely. During the winter of 1838-39 Miss Clarke, writes Lady Verney, was " exceedingly kind to Florence and me, two young girls full of all kinds of interests, which she took the greatest pains to help. She made us acquainted with all her friends, many and notable, among them Madame Recamier. I know now, better than then, what her influence must have been thus to introduce an English family (two of them girls who, if French, would not have appeared in society) into that jealously guarded cH.i MARY CLARKE AND HER FRIENDS 21 sanctuary, the most exclusive aristocratic and literary salon in Paris, We were asked, even, to the reading by Chateau- briand, at the Abbaye-au-Bois, of his Memoir es d'Outre- Tombe, which he could not wait to put forth, as he had intended when writing them, until after his death — desiring, it was said, to discount the praises which he expected, but hardly received. This hearing was a favour eagerly sought for by the cream of the cream of Paris society at that time." ^ In Miss Clarke's own apartments, the Nightingales met many distinguished men. The intimates who were always there, and who assisted their hostess in making the tea, were MM. Fauriel and Mohl — Claude Fauriel, versed in mediaeval and Proven9al lore, a man exceedingly handsome, who had captivated Madame de Stael and other ladies besides Mary Clarke in his friendships ; and Julius Mohl, one of the first Orientalists in' Europe, a more ardent lover whom, after a probation of eighteen years, Miss Clarke married in 1847. M. Mohl was once asked by Queen Victoria why, loving Germany so much, he had given up his native country for France. " Ma foi, madame," he replied, " j'etais amoureux." With M. Mohl, no less than with his wife, Florence Nightingale was on terms of affectionate friendship. Among the frequent visitors whom she and her sister met at Miss Clarke's were Madame Tastu (the poetess), Elie de Beaumont (the geologist), Roulin (the traveller and natural- ist), Cousin, Mignet, Guizot, Tocqueville, Barthelemy St. Hilaire, and Thiers. The last-named was one of Miss Clarke's earliest admirers ; and many years later, after the Franco- German war, when Thiers was at the head of affairs, Lady Verney heard M. Mohl say to his wife, " Madame, why did you not marry M. Thiers instead of me, for now you would have been Queen of France ? " In such circles as that which gathered around Miss Clarke, Florence Nightingale was well qualified to hold her own and even to play a brilliant part. Her life of gaiety on the Riviera and in Italy must have rubbed away much of the shyness from which she had suffered. If not beautiful, she was elegant and distinguished. She was both widely and deeply read. She had many and varied interests. She ^ Julius and Mary Mohl, p. 29. 22 "TO SHINE IN SOCIETY" pt.i had powers of expression, in which clearness was not un- mixed with a note of humorous subacidity. These are social advantages, and she was not without the inclination to use them. She chose in the end another path — a path which was beset by many obstacles of circumstance ; but there were obstacles in herself also, and one of the last " temptations " to be overcome, before she was free to interpret her call and to act upon it, was (as she wrote in many a page of confession and self-examination) " the desire to shine in society." CHAPTER II HOME LIFE (1839-1845) Her passionate, ideal nature demanded an epic life : what were many- volumed romances of chivalry and the social conquests of a brilliant girl to her ? Her flame quickly burned up that light fuel ; and, fed from within, soared after some ilhmitable satisfaction, some object which would never justify weariness, which would reconcile self - despair with the rapturous consciousness of life beyond self. — George Eliot : Middlemarch. The home life to which Florence Nightingale returned in April 1839 was rich in possibilities of social pleasure, and might have seemed to promise every happiness. She was well fitted by nature and by education to be an ornament of any country house ; to shine in any cultivated society ; to become the wiie, as many of her best friends hoped and believed, of some good and clever man. But Florence, as she passed from childhood to womanhood, came to form other plans. Her life, as she ultimately shaped it, her example, which circumstances were destined to render far- shining, have been potent factors in opening new avenues for women in the modern world. Thousands of women in these days are, in consequence of Florence Nightingale's career, born free ; but it was at a great price, and after long and weary struggles, that she herself attained such freedom. During the years with which, in this Part, we shall be concerned, she lived in some sort the life of a caged bird. The cage, however, was pleasantly gilded. Florence was not always insensible of the gilding ; there were times when 23 24 THE LONDON SEASON pt.i she was tempted to chafe no longer at its bars, and to accept a restricted Hfe within the conventional lines. I do not propose to detail, as might be done from her letters, diaries, and other materials, the precise succession of her goings and comings, her visits, and her home pursuits. She her- self gives an excellent reason in one of her diaries. " Our movements are so regular," she said ; one year was very like another. The setting of Florence Nightingale's life during this period was such as many women have enjoyed, and many others have envied. The lines of the Nightingale family were laid in pleasant places. Their summer months were spent, as in preceding years, at Lea Hurst. A portion of the season was spent in London, and the rest of the year at Embley. On their return from the Continent in 1839, the Nightingales spent some weeks in London, when the two girls were presented at Court, and a letter to Miss Clarke shows Florence absorbed in music, but not so com- pletely as to conquer a lively interest in the politics of the Bedchamber Plot : — Carlton Hotel, Regent Street, June i [1839]. . . . We are enjoying ourselves much, for the Nicholsons, our cousins, came up to town the day after we did, and are living in the same hotel with us in Regent Street, the best situation in London, I think, but some people call it too noisy. As Marianne Nicholson is as music-mad as I am, we are revelling in music all day long. Schulz, who is a splendid player, and Crivelli, her singing master, give us lessons, and the unfortunate piano has been strummed out of tune in a week, not having even its natural rest at nights, as there are other masters as well. We went to Pauline Garcia's debut at the opera in Otello. She was exceedingly nervous and trembled all over, but her great im- provement towards the end promised well. Her lower notes are very fine indeed, and two shakes she made low down, though too much like instrumental to be agreeable, were very extra- ordinary. Her voice, however, is excessively unequal, and sometimes her singing is quite commonplace. She makes too much of her execution, which is very uneven. It is very easy to say that she will be another Mahbran, but if they were side by side the difference would be seen ; so say wiser judges than we. Even Grisi is quite superior to her in Desdemona, although P. Garcia's voice is the most powerful, but then P. Garcia was excessively frightened. We have heard her sing a duet with Persiani in which both were perfect, and I heard Dohler for the cH.ii THE BEDCHAMBER PLOT 25 first time at the same concert. I was nowise disappointed, although I had heard so much of him at Paris, his execution is extraordinary, but I think one would soon grow tired of it, for both his music and his style are very inferior to Thalberg's. Have you heard Batta on the violoncello at Paris ? His playing approaches more nearly to the human voice than anything I ever heard. We are going to hear charming Persiani to-night in the Lucia di Lammermoor. Tamburini, the most good-natured of mortals, has volunteered to come and sing two or three hours with my cousin Marianne every season, whenever she thinks herself sufficiently advanced. We are going to hear him at a private concert on Monday. Now there has been enough and too much of musical news, but poUtical news is scarce. . . . London was in a perfect whirl- wind of excitement for the few days that the Melbourne ministry was out, but that is stale already. Our httle Queen, who was sadly unpopular when we first came to England, recovered much of her former favour with the W^ig party after the firmness she showed in this affair. She was cheered and called forward at the opera, which had not been done for months, and again returning from chapel. And the birthday drawing-room was overflowing, whereas at the two first she gave this season, there were hardly forty people ! The story of this last fracas is that on Tuesday, the day of Lord Melbourne's resignation, the Queen dined upstairs with her mother. Baroness Lehzen, and Lady F. Hastings, which she had never done since her accession, and it is supposed that the amende honorable was then made to Lady Flora, and that in this partie carree was also arranged the course which was to be pursued with Sir Robert Peel. The poor little Queen was seen in tears by several people who told us in the course of the three days, and struggled for her Ladies, as you see, manfully. However matters may turn out now, it is said that she has taken so tremendous a dishke to Sir R. Peel in this affair, that she will never send for him again. Since that, the House has been adjourned for a fortnight and only met last Monday when the Speaker was elected, Abercromby going up to the House of Peers. We are rejoicing in the election of Shaw Lefevre, by a majority of eighteen ; rather less than was expected, however, Spring Rice arriving half an hour too late to vote, which has made rather a commotion. Shaw Lefevre is a great friend of ours, and a very agreeable man, which is his chief quahfication for the chair. Macaulay is not likely to come into the Ministry; Lord Melbourne says that it is im- possible to get on with a man who talks so fast. So he is now writing history, and saying that it is the only thing worth doing, except, however, standing for Edinburgh in Abercromby 's room 26 POLITICAL GOSSIP pt.i against Crawford. Macaulay has made an admirable speech in favour of ballot there. The Queen is vibrating between popularity and unpopularity, and it is not yet known which way the scale will turn between the two parties; she was very much applauded, and Lord Melbourne too, at Ascot yesterday. He is Hkely to keep the upper hand, as the Tories have not such a man as Lord John Russell in all their party, and the nine obstreperous Radicals have had a sop and give in their adhesion for the present. Papa is shocked to hear that M. Guizot has declared himself so anti- EngHsh. . . . We always talk of you and all that you did for us at Paris. I heard yesterday that Gonfalonier! was coming to London in a month. Is he at Paris now ? I have just been reading the account of M. Mignet's eloge of Talleyrand. I hope you were there, for it must have been very interesting, but did not he make rather an extraordinary defence of Talleyrand's political ter- giversation, and of his conduct while the Allies were at Paris ? extraordinary to our ideas of political integrity. We met " ubiquity " Young and Mr. Babbage yesterday at dinner at the E. Strutts', who told all sorts of droll stories about Lord Brougham, who seems to have fairly lost his wits. He had Lord Duncannon to dine with him the other day, which is new, he having formerly stipulated when he went out to dinner that he should see none of his former colleagues. He sends his carriage to stand before Lord Denman's house for hours while he goes and walks in the Park, or even while he is out of town, to give the idea that they are very intimate. . . . In another letter to Miss Clarke (Sept. i8), some further gossip is given. Miss Nightingale was on her way back to London from Lea Hurst, and had broken the journey at Nottingham : — The next day we went up to town by rail in six and a half hours, notwithstanding that the engine was twice out of order and stopped us. We had very agreeable company on the road, a neighbour of ours and equerry to the Queen,^ who was full of her virtues and condescensions. How much pleasanter it is travelhng by these public conveyances than in one's own stupid carriage. He said that Lord Melbourne called the Queen's favourite terrier a frightful httle beast, and often contradicted her fiat, all which she takes in good part, and lets him go to sleep after dinner, ^ General Sir Frederick Stovin, G.C.B. He was groom-in-waiting to Queen Victoria from 1837 to i860. cH.ii THE CHARM OF EMBLEY 27 taking care that he shall not be waked. ^ She reads all the newspapers and all the viHf5ang abuse which the Tories give her, and makes up her mind that a queen must be abused, and hates them cordially. II The Nightingales had taken up their residence at Embley in September 1839, ^^'^ remained there, in accord- ance with their wont, till the early summer following. The charm of the place is vividly described in a letter from Florence's sister to her cousin. Miss Hilary Bonham Carter: — My Love — It is so beautiful in this world ! so very beautiful, you really cannot fancy anything so near approaching to Eden or fairy-land, or il paradiso terrestre as depicted in the 25th Canto, stanza 40 something ; so very, very lovely that we cannot resist a very strong desire that you should come down and see it. My dear, I assure you we are worth seeing. I never, though blest with many fair visions (both in my sleeping and my waking hours), conceived anything so exquisite as to-day lying among the flowers, such smells and such sounds hovering round me ! Flo reading and talking so that my immortal profited too, and she comforted me when I said I must have much of the beast in me to be so very happy in the sunshine and the flowers, by suggest- ing that God gave us His blessings to enjoy them. So I am comforted, and set to work to enjoy with all my might, and succeed a merveille. StiU the garden is big, there are many clumps of rhododendrons and azaleas, and showers of rosebuds, and I cannot be all round them at once ; so we want you to come and help, not so much for your pleasure as to reheve the weight of responsibihty, you see. . . . My love, I am writing perched on a chair on the grass, nightingales all round, blue sky above {such long shadows sleeping on the lawn), and June smells about me. Will you not come ? The rhododendrons are early this year, and will be much passed in another ten days. Will you not come ? If you ask learned men they will tell you June at Embley is a poetry ready made ; and the first thing I shall do when I get to heaven (you'd better set about getting there Miss Pop directly, you're a very long way off at these ^ Many stories of Lord Melbourne and the " dull dog " are now ac- cessible in the Queen's own diaries, but he made friends with the pets in the end. The Queen may have forbidden others to wake her Minister ; but she herself objected sometimes, though with a pretty playfulness, to his snoring. See The Girlhood of Queen Victoria, vol. ii. p. 240. 28 FLORENCE AND HER SISTER pt.i presents), where I expect to have the gift of language, is to celebrate the pomps and beauties of the garden in this wicked world, than which I never wish for a better. Florence and her sister loved each other, but their characters were widely different, as we shall hear, and their love at this time was not that of perfect sympathy, but rather of wistful admiration on the one side, and half-pit3dng fond- ness on the other. Parthenope looked upon Florence as upon some strange being in another world, whose happiness she passionately longed to see, and whose rejection of it she could but dimly understand. Florence, on her side, regarded her elder sister's contentment in the beauties of art and nature, and in the world as she found it, with the tender pity which one may feel for a happy child. " It would be an ill return for all her affection," wrote Florence to one of her aunts, " to drag down my White Swan from her cool, fresh, blue sea of art into our baby chicken-yard of struggling, scratting ^ life. How cruel it would be, as she is rocked to rest there on her dreamy waves, for anybody to waken her." The difference in temperament between the sisters comes out very clearly in their several descriptions of Embley. Flor- ence was sensible of its beauties, but they came to her with thoughts of a better world beyond, or with echoes from the still sad music of humanity in the world that now is. " I should have so liked you to see Embley in the summer," she wrote, 2 " for everything is such a blaze of beauty. I had such a lovely walk yesterday before breakfast. The voice of the birds is like the angels calling me with their songs, and the fleecy clouds look like the white walls of our Home. Nothing makes my heart thrill like the voice of the birds ; but the living chorus so seldom finds a second voice in the starved and earthly soul, which, like the withered arm, cannot stretch forth its hand till Christ bids it." A ^ An expressive, old English word, which often occurs in Miss Nightin- gale's letters. " As we say in Derbyshire," she sometimes added. George Eliot, also of Derbyshire, often uses it. 2 Miss Nightingale took great pains with most of her letters. She often made a rough draft in a note-book, and then used the same words in letters to different correspondents, or used part of the original passage in a letter to one correspondent, and part in a letter to another. Here, as in one or two other cases, I reunite passages from two letters. One of them was addressed to the same cousin to whom Parthenope wrote. cH.ii HOSPITAL PLANS AT EMBLEY 29 very different note, it will be observed, from that which Parthenope — and Pippa — heard from "the lark on the wing." And so, too, with regard to the house at Embley. Mr. Nightingale had found it a plain, substantial building of the Georgian period. He enlarged it into an ornate mansion in the Elizabethan style. His wife and elder daughter were much occupied with the interest of furnishing it ap- propriately, and Mr. Nightingale was greatly pleased with his alterations. " Do you know," said Florence, as she walked with an American friend on the lawn in front of the drawing-room, " what I always think when I look at that row of windows ? I think how I should turn it into a hospital, and just how I should place the beds." ^ III Embley was now a large house, with accommodation enough to receive at one time, as Florence recorded in a letter, " five able-bodied married females, with their hus- bands and belongings." The large number of Mr. Nightin- gale's brothers and sisters, some of whom had many sons and daughters, made the family circle of the Nightingales a very wide one. Between four of the families the intercourse was particularly close — the Nightingales, the Nicholsons, the Bonham Carters, and the Samuel Smiths. One of Mrs. Nightingale's sisters married Mr. George Thomas Nicholson, of Waverley Abbey, near Farnham, Surrey. ^ Among their children, Marianne was as a girl a great friend of her cousin Florence. In 1851 Miss Nicholson married Captain (after- wards Sir) Douglas Galton, who, some few years later, became closely and helpfully connected with Miss Nightin- gale's work. To Mr. Nicholson's sister, " Aunt Hannah," Florence was greatly attached. Another of Mrs. Nightin- gale's sisters married Mr. John Bonham Carter, of Ditcham, near Petersfield, for many years M.P. for Portsmouth. His eldest daughter, Joanna Hilary, was a particular friend of Florence Nightingale, who said that of all her contempor- ^ Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell's Pioneer Work, 1895, p. 185. * The annals of the Cistercian Abbey (of which ruins remain) are said to have suggested to Sir Walter Scott the name of his first novel. 30 THE FAMILY CIRCLE pt.i aries within her circle, her cousin Hilary was the most gifted. One of the sons, Mr. Henry Bonham Carter, was, and is. Secretary of the Nightingale Fund, and Miss Nightin- gale appointed him one of her executors. Between the Nightingales and the Samuel Smiths the relationship was double. Mrs. Nightingale's brother, Mr. Samuel Smith, of Combe Hurst, Surrey, married Mary Shore, sister of Mr. Nightingale ; moreover, their son, Mr. William Shore Smith, was the heir (after his mother) to the entailed land at Embley and Lea Hurst, in default of a son to Mr. Nightin- gale. The eldest child of Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Smith, Blanche, married Arthur Hugh Clough, the poet, who, as we shall hear, was closely associated with Miss Nightingale. There were many other relations ; but without being troubled to go into further details, which might tax severely even the authoress of the Pillars of the House, the reader will perceive that Florence Nightingale was well provided with uncles, aunts, and cousins. The fact is of some significance in understanding the circumstances of her life at this time, and the nature of her struggle for independence. Emancipated or revolting daughters are sometimes pardoned or condoned if they can aver that they have few home ties. To Mrs. Nightingale it may have seemed that in the domestic intercourse within so large a family circle, any comfortable daughter might find abundance of outlet and interest. And so, in one respect at least, her daughter Florence did. The maternal instinct in her, for which she was not in her own person to find fruition, went out in almost passionate fulness to the young cousin, William Shore Smith, mentioned above. He was " her boy," she used to say, from the day on which he was put as a baby into her arms when she was eleven years old. Up to the time of his going up to Cambridge, he spent a portion of his holidays in every year at Lea Hurst or Embley. Florence's letters at such times were full of him. She was successively his nurse, playfellow, and tutor. " The son of my heart," she called him ; " while he is with me all that is mine is his, my head and hands and time." It generally happens in any large family circle that there is one woman to whom all its members instinctively turn cH. II FLORENCE AS " EMERGENCY MAN " 31 when trouble comes or help is needed. Florence was the one in the Nightingale circle who filled this role of Sister of Mercy or Emergency Man — taking charge of one household when an aunt was away, or being dispatched to another when illness was prevalent. In 1845 she spent some time with her father's mother, who was threatened with paralysis, and whom she nursed into partial recovery. " I am very glad sometimes," she wrote from her grandmother's sick-room to her cousin Hilary, " to walk in the valley of the shadow of death as I do here ; there is something in the stillness and silence of it which levels all earthly troubles. God tempers our wings in the waters of that valley, and I have not been so happy or so thankful for a long time. And yet it is curious, in the last years of life, that we should go down- hill in order to climb up the other side ; that in the struggle of the spiritual with the material part of the universe, the material should get the better, and the soul, just at the moment of becoming spiritualised for ever, should seem to become more materialised." She made a similar reflection a little later in the same year (1845), when tending her old nurse. Gale, in her last illness. " The old lady's spirit," she wrote, " was in her pillow-cases, and one night when she thought she was dying, and I was sitting up with her, she said, ' Now, Miss Florence, mind you have two new cases made for this bed, for I think whoever sleeps here next year will find them comfortable.' " The death-bed of the nurse of the Queen of Nurses deserves some note. The last words of Mrs. Gale, as reported in other letters, were, " Don't wake the cook," " Hannah, go to your work," and " Miss Florence, be careful in going down those stairs." If the spirit of this old servant was materialised at the moment of passing, the materialising took the form at any rate of faithful service and of consideration for others. Florence's sympathy with those in distress is shown in the letter of condolence which she wrote to Miss Clarke upon the death of M. Fauriel : — Embley, July 1844. I cannot help writing one word, my dear Miss Clarke, after having just received your note, though I know I cannot say anything which can be of any comfort. For there are few sorrows I do believe like your sorrow, and few 32 A LETTER OF CONDOLENCE pt. i people so necessary to another's happiness of every instant, as he was to yours. . . . How sorry I am, dear Miss Clarke, that you will not think of coming to us here. Oh, do not say that you " will not cloud young people's spirits." Do you think young people are so afraid of sorrow, or that if they have lively spirits, which I often doubt, they think these are worth anything, except in so far as they can be put at the service of sorrow, not to reheve it, which I believe can very seldom be done, but to sympathise with it ? I am sure this is the only thing worth living for, and I do so believe that every tear one sheds waters some good thing into hfe. . . . Dear Miss Clarke, I wish we had you here, or at least could see you and pour out something of what our hearts are full of. That clever man of Thebes, one Cadrhus, need never have existed, for any good that that cold pen and ink of his ever did, in the way of expressing oneself. The iron pen seems to make the words iron, but words are what always takes the dust off the butterfly's wings. . . . What nights we have had this last month, though when one thinks that there are hundreds and thousands of people suffering in the same way, and when one sees in every cottage some trouble which defies sympathy — and there is all the world putting on its shoes and stockings every morning all the same — and the wandering earth going its inexorable tread-mill through those cold-hearted stars in the eternal silence, as if nothing were the matter ; — death seems less dreary than Hfe at that rate. But I did not mean to say that, for who would know the peace of night, if it were not for the troubles of the day, " the welcome, the thrice-prayed- for, the most fair, the best beloved night," when one feels, what at other times one only repeats to oneself, that the coffin of every hope is the cradle of a good experience, and that nobody suffers in vain. It is odd what want of faith one has for one's friends. We know what soft lots we would have made for them if we could ; and that we should beHeve ourselves so infinitely more good-natured than God, that we cannot trust their lots with Him! It must not be supposed, however, that Florence was in request among the family circle only at times of sad emergency. She sometimes took her place no less effectually on festive occasions. Waverley Abbey, the house of Uncle Nicholson aforesaid, was the scene of family reunions at Christmas-time; and in letters to Miss Clarke from both Mrs. Nightingale and her daughter Parthe, there is a lively account of private theatricals there in 1841. The Merchant of Venice was chosen, and Macready volunteered some assistance. cH.ii FLORENCE AS STAGE-MANAGER 33 Parthe's artistic gifts were requisitioned, and she was " scene-painter, milliner, and cap -and -fur maker." The powers of command and organization, which Florence was afterwards to exhibit in another field, seem to have been divined by her cousins, for she was unanimously appointed stage-manager. Miss Joanna Horner, who was one of the party, remembers that the usual little jealousies about parts and costumes used to disappear in presence of Florence. "Flo very blooming," reported Mrs. Nightingale. " The actors were not very obstinate, and were tolerably good-tempered," wrote Parthe, " but it was hard work for Flo. There was a Captain Elliot, fresh from China, who could by no means be brought to obey. He was Antonio, and would burst out laughing in the midst of his most pathetic bits, to the horror of Shylock, who was very earnest and hard-working." The Lady-in-Chief in later years in the Crimea had a rather peremptory way with obstructive military gentlemen. On this occasion, however, she was perhaps satisfied with the assurance given at a well-known pantomime rehearsal, that it would " be all right on the night." But it was not. " Your flame. Uncle Adams," ^ continues the letter to Miss Clarke, " was very fine in Lancelot ! but, oh, desperation, forgot his Duke's part in the most flagrant way, tho' Flo had been putting it into him with a sledge-hammer all the week." In the intervals of rehearsing, the girls and their cousins danced and sang, and took large walks, sixteen together. After the performance, dancing was kept up till five in the morning. " Next day," continues Lady Verney, " we were debating whether ' Sing a Song of Sixpence ' went on with a hag or a pocket full of rye ; and warming on this interesting subject, we young ones dragged in all the old people, sought recruits high and low, and had a regular election scene. Uncle Adams made a hustings speech, giving both parties hopes of his vote ; then the boys slunk out after the counting, and came in with large outcries to be counted a second time, with many other corrupt practices much used at such times ; then we bribed a little boy to go and make disturbances in the other faction ; but you will be happy to hear the pockets had it by a large majority, ^ William Adams Smith, an unmarried brother of Mrs. Nightingale. VOL. I D 34 CARLYLE'S "PAST AND PRESENT" pt. i and we beat the base baggites out of the field. After the holloaing was over, and the alarming rushings and scream- ings we had made, M. Kroff (a Bohemian), who had listened and assisted, came to Mama, and said, ' This do give me the great idea of the liberty of your land, your young people are brought up so to understand it in your domestic life ; if we were to make such a noise we should have the police in with swords and cutlasses to divide us t ' " IV The Nightingales had as many friends without as within the family circle. Their two homes brought them in touch with county society alike in Derbyshire and in Hampshire, and acquaintanceships made in London were often ripened in the country, or vice versa. In Derbyshire their friends included the Strutts, and Richard Monckton Milnes, who afterwards took a cordial interest in the Nightingale Fund. In London, Florence and her sister went out a great deal, and saw all that was interesting to well-educated young persons. A letter from Florence to one of her aunts shows her occupied in politics, in literature, in astronomy, with something, perhaps, of the note of a blue ; yet with her mind already set on a purpose in life : — [Miss F. Nightingale to Miss Julia Smith.) June 20 [1843]. A cold east wind, forty-one days of rain in the last month ! as our newspaper informs us to prove that '43 is worse than any preceding year. Du reste, the world very pleasant — people looking up in the prospect of Peel's giving them free trade and all radical measures in the course of one or two years. Carlyle's new Past and Present, a beautiful book. There are bits about " Work," which how I should like to read with you ! " Blessed is he who has found his work : let him ask no other blessedness. He has a work, a life-purpose : he has found it and will follow it. . . ." Sir J. Graham is going to be obliged to give up his Factories Education Bill for this year ; O ye bigoted Dissenters ! but I am going to hold my tongue and not " meddle with politics " or " talk about things which I don't understand," for I tremble already in anticipation, and proceed at once to facts. . . . The two things we have done in London this year — the most striking things — are seeing Bouffe cH.ii FLORENCE'S FRIENDS 35 in Clermont, the blind painter (you have seen him, so I need not descant on his entire difference from anybody else) ; and going under Mr. Bethune to Sir James South's at Kensington, ^ where we were from ten o'clock till three the next morning. Mr. Bethune is certainly the most good-natured man in ancient or modern history. You will fancy the first going out upon the lawn on that most beautiful of nights, with the immense fellow slung in his frame like a great steam-engine, and working as easily ; and the mountains of the moon striking out like bright points in the sky, and the little stars resolving themselves into double and even quadi"uple stars. . . . Those dialogues of GaUleo are so beautiful. Mr. Bethune lent them us to read in the real o\6. first edition. At Embley the Nightingales saw something of the Palmerstons and the Ashburtons. With Miss Louisa Stewart Mackenzie, who afterwards became the second wife of the second Lord Ashburton, Florence formed a friendship which was one of the solaces and supports of her life at this time. Other friends who played a yet larger part in her life were Mr. and Mrs. Bracebridge ^ of Atherstone, near Coventry. Florence sketches the character of some of her friends in a letter to her cousin Hilary (April 1846) : — Mrs. Keith, Miss Button, and Louisa Mackenzie, may be shortly described as the respective representatives of the Soul, the Mind, and the Heart. The first has one's whole worship, the second one's greatest admiration, and the third one's most lively interest. Mrs. Bracebridge may be described as all three ; the Human Trinity in one ; and never do I see her, without feeUng that she is eyes to the blind and feet to the lame. Many a plan, which disappointment has thinned off into a phantom in my mind, takes form and shape and fair reahty when touched by her Ithuriel's spear (for there is an Ithuriel's spear for good as well as for evil). Dr. Richard Dawes, Dean of Hereford, who was an educational reformer, and Dr. Fowler of Salisbury, who anticipated the open-air treatment, and was otherwise a man of marked originality, were among those whose friend- ship she valued, li Florence Nightingale was to find her ^ Sir James South, astronomer (i 785-1 867), had a famous observatory on Campden Hill. 2 Nee Mills, cousin of Mr. Arthur Mills, M.P. 36 COUNTRY-HOUSE SOCIETY pt. i home life empty and unprofitable, it was not for lack of congenial friends. She saw much, too, of general society, and Embley was often the scene of entertaining. We get a glimpse of its parties from an invitation which Mr. Nightingale sent to Miss Clarke (Oct. 1843) to bring her friend Leopold von Ranke with her on a visit : — Pray send him a sly line to the effect that he will find Nota- bilities here on the 24th — to wit, the Speaker (Shaw Lefevre), the ex-Foreign Secretary (Palmerston), the CathoUc Weld (future owner of Lulworth and nephew of the Cardinal of that ilk), and mayhap a Queen's Equerry or two, a Baron of the Exchequer (Rolfe), an Inspector, or rather Engineering Architect, of the new prisons, 1 and a couple of Baronets. He should think well on this. Yours, quizzically, but faithfully, W. E. N. " Papa is quizzing the Baronets," added Florence, " who are not wise ones. Provided you come, I care for nobody, no not I, and shall be quite satisfied. As M. de Something said to the Stael, ' Nous aurons a nous deux de I'esprit pour quarante ; vous pour quatre et moi pour zero.' " There were return invitations to great houses, and occasionally Florence retails their gossip, or her own re- flections, for the benefit of cousins or aunts : — {To Miss Hilary Bonham Carter.) 1845 (or early '46). What is the secret of Lady Jocelyn's subhme placidity ? I never saw anything so lovely as she is, and she has lived four-and- twenty years of more excitement, I suppose, than ever fell to anybody's lot but an actress, all the young peerage having pro- posed to her. What gives her such a fulness of Hfe now and makes her find enough in herself ? It is not that she talks to Lord Palmerston or Lord Jocelyu, for she never does ; and though she is very fond of her baby, she told me herself she did not care to play with it. Perhaps you will say it is want of earnestness, but, good gracious, my dear, if earnestness breaks one heart, who is fulfilling most the Creation's end — she who is breaking her heart, or this woman who has kept her serenity in the midst of excitement and her simplicity in unbounded admiration ? The Palmerstons are certainly the most good- natured people under the stars to their guests. 1 Sir Joshua Jebb, surveyor-general of prisons, designed the " model prison " at Pentonville. Miss Nightingale valued his friendship greatly, and appointed him a member of the Council of the Nightingale Fund. cH.ii THE PALMERSTONS AND ASHBURTONS 37 We liave been since to Sir William Heathcote's to meet the Ashburtons. I wish you had been there for the sake of the pictures, and also for the sake of the artistical dinner which, even I became aware, was such a dinner and such plate as has seldom blessed my housekeeping eyes. The Palmerstons, too, have had down all their pictures from London — such a Rembrandt, Pilate washing his hands. Lord Ashburton does not look much hke a settler of a Boundary question.^ She is an American, and we swore eternal friendship upon Boston ; I having, you know, much curious information to give lier upon that city and its inhabitants. She had a raspberry-tart of diamonds upon her forehead worth seeing. Then Mesmerism, and when we parted, we had got up so high into Vestiges ^ that I could not get down again, and was obliged to go off as an angel. The Ash- burtons were the only people asked to meet the Queen at Strathfieldsaye (of her society). It was the most entire crash ever heard of, and the not asking the Palmerstons considered almost a personal insult ; but they say the old Duke now cares for nothing but flattery, and asks nobody but masters of hounds. He almost ill-treated the Speaker. After dinner, they all stood at ease about the drawing-room, and behaved like so many soldiers on parade. The Queen did her very best to enliven the gloom, but was at last over-powered by numbers, gagged, and her hands tied. The only amusement was seeing Albert taught to miss at billiards. Florence's remark that she would only provide the zero of esprit to Miss Clarke's quatre, is by no means to be taken literally. She was attractive, and she attracted both men and women. She talked well, and often laid herself out to interest her companions, and sometimes confounded them with learning. In 1844 Julia Ward Howe was in England with her husband, Dr. Howe, and they visited the Nightingales at Embley. " Florence," writes Mrs. Howe in her reminis- cences, " was rather elegant than beautiful ; she was tall and graceful of figure, her countenance mobile and expres- sive, her conversation most interesting." ^ A reminiscence of a later date records an encounter with Sir Henry de la ^ A reference to the " Ashburton Treaty " concluded at Washington in 1842. Alexander Baring, first Baron Ashburton, was the English com- missioner. * Vestiges of Creation, by Robert Chambers, had been published in the preceding year (1844). * Reminiscences, iSig-iSgg, by Julia Ward Howe, 1900, p. 138. 38 LADY LOVELACE'S "PORTRAIT" pt. i Beche, the pioneer of the Geological Map of England. Warrenton Smythe and Sir Henry dined at Mr. Nightingale's, and Florence sat between them. " She began by drawing Sir Henry out on geology, and charmed him by the boldness and breadth of her views, which were not common then. She accidentally proceeded into regions of Latin and Greek, and then our geologist had to get out of it. She was fresh from Egypt, and began talking with W. Smythe about the inscriptions, etc., where he thought he could do pretty well ; but when she began quoting Lepsius, which she had been studying in the original, he was in the same case as Sir Henry. When the ladies left the room. Sir Henry said to Smythe, ' A capital young lady that, if she hadn't floored me with her Latin and Greek.' " ^ "I have been dowager- ing out with Papa," wrote Florence to Miss Clarke (March 1843), " in the big coach to a formal dinner-party, where, however, Mr. Gerard Noel and I were very thick, he inquiring tenderly after you and your whereabouts." Of Miss Nightingale's personal appearance in early womanhood, there are pen-pictures by very competent hands. Lady Lovelace, in her verses entitled A Portrait, Taken from Life, emphasises a certain spiritual aloofness in her friend : — I saw her pass, and paused to think ! She moves as one on whom to gaze With calm and holy thoughts, that link The soul to God in prayer and praise. She walks as if on heaven's brink, Unscathed thro' hfe's entangled maze. I heard her soft and silver voice Take part in songs of harmony. Well framed to gladden and rejoice ; Whilst her ethereal melody Still kept my soul in wav'ring choice, 'Twixt smiles and tears of ectasy. . . . I deem her fair, — yes, very fair ! Yet some there are who pass her by. Unmoved by all the graces there. Her face doth raise no burning sigh. Nor hath her slender form the glare Which strikes and rivets every eye. ^ Caroline Fox, Memories of Old Friends, 1882, pp. 311-312. cH.ii MRS. GASKELL'S DESCRIPTION 39 Her grave, but large and lucid eye, Unites a boundless depth of feeling With Truth's own bright transparency. Her singleness of heart reveahng ; But still her spirit's history From light and curious gaze concealing. . . . Mrs. Gaskell's picture in prose gives some lighter touches. " She is tall ; very straight and willowy in figure ; thick and shortish rich brown hair ; very delicate complexion ; grey eyes, which are generally pensive and drooping, but when they choose can be the merriest eyes I ever saw ; and perfect teeth, making her smile the sweetest I ever saw. Put a long piece of soft net, and tie it round this beautifully shaped head, so as to form a soft white framework for the full oval of her face (for she had the toothache, and so wore this little piece of drapery), and dress her up in black silk, high up to the long, white round throat, and with a black shawl on, and you may get near an idea of her perfect grace and lovely appearance. She is so like a saint." ^ She dressed becomingly ; but had a saint's carelessness in such things, somewhat to her elder sister's despair. " Make Flo wear her white silk frock to-night," she wrote on one occasion to her mother. Many years later, when stores and comforts were being sent out to the East under cover to the Lady-in- Chief, Lady Verney insinuated " one little gown for Flo," and who will not love her for it ? " When in 1849 she started to winter in the East, her mother says" — I quote again from Mrs. Gaskell — " they equipped her en princesse, and when she came back she had little besides the clothes she had on ; she had given away her hnen, etc., right and left to those who wanted it." VI Those who have social gifts often find sufficient happi- ness in their exercise ; but Florence, though she sometimes enjoyed the intercourse of intellectual society, reproached herself all the while for doing so. She felt increasingly that she had other gifts which were more properly hers, and that ^ From a letter to Catherine Winkworth, written in 1854 ; for other passages in the letter, see pp. 8, 41, 139. \ 40 LIMITATIONS OF HOME LIFE pt. i the life of society was a distraction into the wrong path. She found even the London season more congenial than the life of the hospitable country-house. " People talk of London gaieties," she wrote to Miss Nicholson (" Aunt Hannah ") ; " but there you can at least have your mornings to yourself. To me the country is the place of ' row.' Since we came home in September, how long do you think we have been alone ? Not one fortnight. A country-house is the real place for dissipation. Sometimes I think that every- body is hard upon me, that to be for ever expected to be looking merry and saying something lively is more than can be asked mornings, noons, and nights." When she was alone with her parents and her sister, she hardly found the life at home more satisfying. This was partly, as she confessed in many a page of self-examination, the result of her own shortcomings. " Ask me," she wrote to " Aunt Hannah," "to do something for your sake, some- thing difficult, and you will see that I shall do it regularly, which is for me the most difficult thing of all." Let those who reproach themselves for a desultoriness, seemingly incurable, take heart again from the example of Florence Nightingale ! No self-reproach recurs more often in her private outpourings at this time than that of irregularity and even sloth. She found it difficult to rise early in the morning ; she prayed and wrestled to be delivered from desultory thoughts, from idle dreaming, from scrappiness in unselfish work. She wrestled, and she won. When her capacities had found full scope in congenial work, nothing was more fixed and noteworthy in her life and work than regularity, precision, method, persistence. But in part, the failings with which she reproached herself were the fault of her circumstances. The fact of the two country homes militated against steady work in either. Her parents were not, indeed, careless or thoughtless beyond others in their station, but rather the reverse. Mr. Nightin- gale was a careful landlord and zealous in county business, and his wife took some interest, as I have already said, in village schools and charities. But to Florence's parents, these things were rather graces rightly incidental to their station, than the main business of life. Florence's more cH.ii THE BOREDOM OF READING ALOUD 41 eager temperament and larger capacity craved for greater consistency in the energies of life. She was expected to play the part of Lady Bountiful one day, and to be equally ready to play that of Lady Graceful the next. A friend who visited at Lea Hurst recalls how Florence would often be missing in the evening, and on search being made she would be found in the village, sitting by the bedside of some sick person, and saying she could not sit down to a grand seven o'clock dinner while this was going on.^ But by the time she had schooled herself to any regularity of work at Lea Hurst, the hour had come for moving to Embley. By the time she had settled down to work amongst her poor at Embley, the hour of the London season had struck. " I should be very glad," she wrote to her aunt from Embley, " if I could have been left here when they went to London, as there is so much to be done, but as that would not be heard of, London is really my place of rest." The companionship which Florence had at home was sometimes wearisome to her. The sisters, as we have already seen, were not in full sympathy. The parents were not un- intellectual persons, but, again, much the reverse. Mrs. Nightingale was a woman of bright intelligence, and of much social charm. Mr. Nightingale was a highly intellectual man, sensitive, too, and refined. He shot and hunted, but he was not ardently devoted to either sport, and was interested in many things. Perhaps in too many, and yet not enough in any. Florence Nightingale in her later years used some- times to describe with a twinkle of affectionate humour the routine of a morning in her home life as a girl. Mama, we may suppose, was busy with housekeeping cares. Papa was very fond of reading aloud, and in order to interest his daughters, would take them through the whole of The Times, with many a comment, no doubt, by the way. " Now, for Parthe," Miss Nightingale used to say, " the morning's reading did not matter ; she went on with her drawing ; but for me, who had no such cover, the thing was boring to desperation." " To be read aloud to," she wrote, " is the most miserable exercise of the human intellect. Or rather, is it any exercise at all ? It is like lying on one's back, with ^ Letter of Mrs. Gaskell to Catherine Winkworth, Oct. 20, 1854. 42 OBSTINATE QUESTIONINGS pt.i one's hands tied, and having Hquid poured down one's throat. Worse than that, because suffocation would immediately ensue, and put a stop to this operation. But no suffocation would stop the other." ^ As the younger daughter of a busily efficient mother, Florence was not often entrusted with household duties ; but on one occasion at any rate, she was left in command, and that, during the important season of jam-making. " My reign is now over," she wrote to her cousin Hilary, who was an art-student (Dec. 1845) ; " angels and ministers of grace defend me from another ! though I cannot but view my fifty-six pots with the proud satisfaction of an Artist, my head a little on one side, inspecting the happy effect of my works with more feeling of the Beautiful than Parthe ever had in hers." And even housekeeping brought obstinate questionings with it to Florence. She describes a bout of it on another occasion in a letter to Madame Mohl (July 1847) :— I am up to my chin in linen and glass, and I am very fond of housekeeping. In this too-highly-educated, too-little-active age it, at least, is a practical application of our theories to some- thing — and yet, in the middle of my Hsts, my green lists, brown lists, red lists, of all my instruments of the ornamental in culinary accomplishments which I cannot even divine the use of, I can- not help asking in my head, Can reasonable people want all this ? Is all that china, linen, glass necessary to make man a Pro- gressive animal ? Is it even good Political Economy (query, for "good," read " atheistical" Pol. Econ. ?) to invent wants in order to supply employment ? Or ought not, in these times, all expenditure to be reproductive ? " And a proper stupid answer you'll get," says the best Versailles service ; " so go and do your accounts ; there is one of us cracked." VII Florence was an affectionate and dutiful daughter. She obeyed and yielded for many years. She strove hard to think that her duty lay at home, and that the trivial round and common task would furnish all that she had any right, before God or man, to ask. But as the sense of a vocation elsewhere strengthened and deepened in her mind, she may ^ Suggestions for Thought, vol. ji. p. 3S5. cH.ii INTELLECTUAL INTERESTS 43 well have thought that, as her elder sister was contented to stay at home, a life of activity outside might for the other daughter not be inconsistent with affection for her parents. She had, indeed, intellectual interests of her own. She read a great deal in English, French, German ; in devotional works, in poetry, history, philosophy. And what she read she marked, and inwardly digested. A copy (unfortunately not complete) is preserved of the first edition of Browning's Paracelsus, which she annotated with remarks, paraphrases, and illustrative cases as she read. The first scene of the poem — " Paracelsus Aspires " — contains many a passage which aroused a sympathetic echo in her heart. The key- note is struck early. " Pursuing an aim not to be found in life," is her comment, " is its true misery." Then she kept commonplace-books, in which, under heads alphabetically arranged — such as Age of Reason, Bigotry, Creeds, Death, Education, and so forth — she copied out passages which struck her. She was accumulating stores of information and reflection. In some remarks upon Lacordaire in one of her note-books I find this passage copied out : — I desire for a considerable time only to lead a life of obscurity and toil, for the purpose of allowing whatever I may have received of God to ripen, and turning it some day to the glory of His Name. Nowadays people are too much in a hurry both to produce and consume themselves. It is only in retirement, in silence, in meditation, that are formed the men who are called to exercise an influence on society. For her own part, as her powers of reflection were strengthened, so did her sense of a vocation become more insistent with every year. In some autobiographical notes, Miss Nightingale records May 7, 1852, as the date at which she was conscious of " a call from God to be a saviour " ; but the thought of devoting herself to be a nurse came much earlier. Mrs. Julia Ward Howe, in the reminiscences quoted above, describes how during the visit of herself and her husband to Embley in 1844, Florence had taken Dr. Howe aside and asked him this question : " If I should determine to study nursing, and to devote my life to that profession, do you think it would be a dreadful thing ? " Dr. Howe, it will be remembered, was of wide repute as a philanthropist, 44 A DASH FOR LIBERTY pt. i and Miss Nightingale thought much of his opinion. It was favourable to her wish. " Not a dreadful thing at all," he replied ; "I think it would be a very good thing." " My idea of heaven," she wrote a little time afterwards, " is when my dear Aunt Hannah and I and my boy Shore and all of us shall be together, nursing the sick people who are left behind, and giving each other sympathies beside, and our Saviour in the midst of us, giving us strength." But, meanwhile, she hoped to realize some little piece of the heaven on earth. She pursued other inquiries, laid her plans, kept her own counsel, and then made a first bid for freedom. The nature of her plans, the nipping of them in the bud by maternal frost, and her following dejection are told in a letter to her cousin Hilary (Dec. ii, 1845) : — Well, my dearest, I am not yet come to the great thing I wanted to say. I have always found that there was so much truth in the suggestion that you must dig for hidden treasures in silence or you will not find it ; and so I dug after my poor little plan in silence, even from you. It was to go to be a nurse at Salisbury Hospital for these few months to learn the " prax." ; and then to come home and make such wondrous intimacies at West Wellow, under the shelter of a rhubarb powder and a dressed leg ; let alone that no one could ever say to me again, your health will not stand this or that. I saw a poor woman die before my eyes this summer because there was no one but fools to sit up with her, who poisoned her as much as if they had given her arsenic. And then I had such a fine plan for those dreaded latter days (which I have never dreaded), if I should outlive my immediate ties, of taking a small house in West Wellow. — Well, I do not Hke much talking about it, but I thought something like a Protestant Sisterhood, without vows, for women of educated feelings, might be established. But there have been difficulties about my very first step, which terrified Mama. I do not mean the physically revolting parts of a hospital, but things about the surgeons and nurses which you may guess. Even Mrs. Fowler ^ threw cold water upon it ; and nothing will be done this year at all events, and I do not believe — ever ; and no advantage that I see comes of my Uving on, excepting that one becomes less and less of a young lady every year, which is only a negative one. You will laugh, dear, at the whole plan, I daresay ; but no one but the mother of it knows how precious ^ The wife of Dr. Richard Fowler, physician to the Sahsbury Infirmary, n.entioned above, p. 35. CH. u DISAPPOINTMENT 45 an infant idea becomes ; nor how the soul dies between the destruction of one and the taking up of another. I shall never do anything, and am worse than dust and nothing. I wonder if our Saviour were to walk the earth again, and I were to go to Him and ask, whether He would send me back to live this hfe again, which crushes me into vanity and deceit. Oh for some strong thing to sweep this loathsome Hfe into the past. And so ended for the time the dash of the caged bird for liberty. CHAPTER III THE SPIRITUAL LIFE Though the outward man may perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. For our Ught affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory ; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen : for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. — St. Paul. The failure of her plan left Florence in a state of great dejection. " The day of personal hopes and fears," she wrote, " is over for me. Now I dread and desire no more." This was but a passing mood ; and very soon, as we shall hear in the next chapter, she resumed, with increased deter- mination, her struggle for freedom and self-expression in a life of action. But for the moment, and at many recurring moments in later years, the dejection was intense. It was not merely the disappointment of an eager mind denied its appropriate energy ; it was the exceeding bitter cry of an intensely religious soul, tempted in its perplexity to ask, " My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me ? " In some autobiographical notes Miss Nightingale re- corded under the year 1843 " an illness and an acquaintance I made \vith a woman to whom all unseen things seemed real, and eternal things near, awakened me" [from dreaming]. The woman to whom she referred was, it may safely be con- jectured, Miss Hannah Nicholson. They met once or twice a year — when Miss Nicholson visited Embley or Miss Nightin- gale stayed with Miss Nicholson's brother at Waverley. At other times they exchanged a voluminous correspondence, and this was almost entirely devoted to religious experi- 46 CH. Ill " AUNT HANNAH " 47 ences and speculations. " Aunt Hannah " had inexhaustible sympathy with her self-torturing young friend. She did not chide or discourage Florence ; but the burden of her message was the claim of the spiritual life, the message of Paul to the Corinthians. " Your whole life," wrote Florence in one of many bursts of affectionate gratitude to Miss Nicholson, " seems to be love, and you always find words in your heart which, without the pretension of enlightening, yet are like a clearing up to me. You always seem to rest on the heart of the divine Teacher, and to participate in His mysteries." " Your letters," she said on another occasion, " stay by me and warm me when the dreams of life come one after another, clouding and covering the realities of the unseen." To this sympathetic and (in some limited respects) kindred soul, Florence poured out unreservedly the experi- ences of her spiritual life ; as also, sometimes, though with more conscious art of literary expression, to Miss Clarke in Paris. II A few letters, selected from a great number, will serve to trace the course of her religious thoughts. They resumed, it will be seen, the spiritual experiences and convictions of the saints who have served mankind. The Reality of the Unseen World is the subject of a letter to Miss Clarke (August 1846), in which, after a page of family news, she continues: — But I think you must be tired of all this, for I fancy that you live much more in the supernatural than the natural world. I always believe in Homer ; and in St. Paul's " cloud of wit- nesses " ; and in the old Italian pictures, which have a first story, where the Unseen live au premier, with a two-pair back, where the Pere Etemel's shadow is half seen peeping out, and a ground floor where poor mortals live, but still have a connexion with the establishment above stairs. I like those books, where the Invisible communicates freely with the Visible Kingdom ; not that they ever come up to one's idea, which is always so much brighter than the execution (for the word is only the shadow cast by the light of the thought) ; but they are suggestive. I always believe in a multitude of spirits inhabiting the same house with ourselves ; we are only the entresol, quite the most insignificant of its lodgers, and too busy with our pursuit of daily 48 THE REALITY OF THE UNSEEN WORLD pt. i bread, too much confined with hard work, and too full of the struggle with the material world, to visit the glorious beings immediately about us — whom we shall see, when the present candle of our earthly reason is put out, which blinds us just as the candle end, left burning after one is in bed, long prevents us from seeing the world without, lit up by the full moon. It trembles and fhckers and sinks into its socket, and then we catch a bright stripe of moonhght shining on the floor ; but it flares up again, and the silvery stream is gone "as if it could not be, as if it had not been," and we can see nothing but the candle, and hardly imagine any other hght — till at last it goes quite out, and the flood of moonhght rushes into the room, and every pane of the casement window, and every ivy leaf without, are stamped, as it were, upon the floor, and a whole world revealed to us, which that flickering candle was the means of concealing from us. This is what Jesus Christ meant, I suppose, when He said that He must go away in order to be with His friends in His spirit, that He would be much nearer to them after death than in the flesh. In the flesh, we were separated from our friends by their going into the next room only — a door, a partition divided us ; but what can separate two souls ? Often I fancy that we can perceive the presence of a good spirit communicating thoughts to us : are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister unto us ? When Jesus Christ warns us not to despise any one, because that in Heaven their angels do always behold the face of His Father, perhaps He thought that our beloved ones, who are gone, might be these our " angels," who must therefore have communion with men. It is here, where a cold and false life of conventionalism and prejudices and frivohty is often all that reaches our outward senses, that we are sometimes baffled in seeing into the life which lies beneath ; it is here, amidst the tempers and little vexations, which are the shadows that dim the brightest intercourse, it is here that we fail sometimes in having intimate communion with souls, and we stop short at the dead coverings ; but between the soul which is free, and our soul, what barrier, what restraint can there be ? Human sympathy is indeed necessary to our happiness of every moment, and the absence of it makes an awful void in our Hfe. Every room becomes a grave, and every book we used to read together a monument to the one we love. But some one says, that we need an idee merveilleuse to preserve us from the busy devils, which imagination here is always conjuring up. This idee merveilleuse, I think, is the idea of the loving presence of spirits. Those dear ones are safe, and yet with us still, for truly do I beheve that these senses of ours are what veil from us, not discover to us, the world around (which is CH. Ill MOONRISE UPON THE SPIRITUAL WORLD 49 sometimes revealed to us in dreams, or in moments of excitement, as at the point of death, either our own or a friend's, or by mesmerism, or by faith). Faith is the real eye and ear of the soul, and as it would be impossible to describe the harmony and melody of Music to one who was bom deaf, or to make a blind man perceive the beauty of the effects of colour, so without faith the spiritual world is as much a hidden one to the soul as the Art of Painting to the bhnd man. On a dark night the moon, when at last she rises, reveals to us, just at our feet, a world of objects, of the presence of which we were not aware before. We see the river sparkhng in the moonbeams close beside us, and the tall shadows sleeping quietly on the grass, and the sharp relief of the architectural cornices, and the strong outline of the lights and shades, so well defined that we can scarcely believe that a moment ago, and we did not see them. What shall we say if, one day, the moon rises upon our spiritual world, and we see close at hand, ready to hold the most intimate communion with us, those spirits, whom we had loved and mourned as lost to us ? We are like the blind men by the wayside, and ought to sit and cry. Lord that we may receive our sight ! And, when we do receive it, we shall perhaps find that we require no transporting into another world, to become aware of the immediate presence of an Infinite Spirit, and of other lesser ones whom we thought gone. What we require is sight, not change of place, I beheve. The struggle which absorbed Florence's mind and heart was to establish some harmony between her dealings in the world of sense and her communion with the unseen world. She reproached herself for impatience, for selfish- ness, for lack of confidence in the good time of God. Happy are they who have no more occasion than she to deem them- selves unprofitable servants ! But the condition of attain- ment to comparative sinlessness is, I suppose, the Conviction of Sin ; and this was intensely present to Florence Nightin- gale. " I have read over your letters many times again and again since I have been here," she wrote from Tapton (her grandmother Shore's house) in 1845. " Ah, my dear Aunt Hannah, you are like the white swan on your cool, fresh, blue lake, rocked to peace and rest by the sweet winds of your faith and love, and you cannot be dragged down into our busy chicken-yard of struggling, scratting life.^ You do not know what it is, when one has sinned with such ^ The reader will note the recurrence here of some phrases already used in another letter. It is an instance of a point there noted (p. 28). VOL. I E 50 THE CONVICTION OF SIN pt. i aggravation as I have. No one has had such advantages, and I have sinned with all these, and after having been made to know what sin was, and what my obligations were. No one has so grieved the Holy Spirit. I have sinned against my conviction, and, as it were, standing before God's judgment-seat." In many of Miss Nightingale's religious outpourings, both in letters and in private diaries, there is a note which borders on the morbid ; but the danger- point is averted, sometimes by practical good sense, and sometimes by a saving sense of humour. The letter, just given, was soon followed by another (from Embley, Oct. 1845), containing this account of a scene at the bedside of her favourite little cousin : — " One night when I was reading to Shore the verse about the temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil, and we were agreeing that the temptations of the flesh were liking a great deal of play and no work, and lying long in bed, and the temptations of the world liking to be praised and admired, and be a general favourite, and so on, more than anything else, and we were both very much affected, he said before I left him, ' Now I may lie in bed to-morrow, and you won't call me at six, will you ? ' And I too went awa}^ to dream about a great many things which I had much better not think about. Oh, how I did laugh at the results of all our feelings ! To think and to be are two such different things ! " To bring thought and action into harmony, to make the presence of the Unseen a guide through the path of this present world : that is the problem of the practically re- ligious life. To Florence Nightingale, communion with the Unseen meant something deeper, richer, fuller, more positive than the fear of God. The fear of God is the beginning, but not the end, of wisdom, for perfect love casteth out fear. It was for the love of God as an active principle in her mind, constraining all her deeds, that she strove. When she was conscious of falling away from this grace, she knew the pains of hell, here and now, as the state of a soul in estrangement from the Eternal goodness : — {To Miss Nicholson.) Embley, Christmas Eve [undated]. Think of me to-morrow at the Sacrament. I have not taken it since I last took it with you, except once, with a poor woman CH. Ill THE SORROWS OF HELL 5! on her death-bed. Time has sped wearily with me since then, Aunt Hannah. If, when the plough goes over the soul, there were always the hand of the Sower there to scatter the seed after it, who would regret ? But how often the seed-time has passed, it is too late, the harrow has gone over, the time of harvest has come and the harvest is not. . . . Give me your thoughts to-morrow, my dear Aunt Hannah ; I want them sadly ; and take me with you to the Throne of Grace. Bless me too, as poor Esau said. I have so felt with him, and cried with a great and exceeding bitter cry, Bless me, even me also, O my Father ; but He never has yet, and I have not deserved that He should. {To Miss Nicholson, May 1846.) " The sorrows of hell compassed me about." We learn to know what these are beforehand, when we cannot command our thoughts to pray, when all our omissions give themselves form and hfe, and shut us up within a wall over which there is no looking, no return : when they hold us down with a resistless power, and we are hemmed in with our remembrances, hke a cell compassing us about. What can the future hell be other than this ? The Unspeakable Presence may be joy and peace unspeakable, but it may be a Horror, a Dweller on our Threshold, a Spirit of Fear to the stricken conscience. Jesus Christ prayed on the Cross not for life or safety, but only for the hght of His countenance : Why hast Thou forsaken me ? And all sorrows disappear before that one. Let those who have felt it say if it is not so, and if there is any sorrow like unto that sorrow. How wilhngly would we exchange it for pain, which we almost welcome as a proof of His care and attention. Grief in itself is no evil ; as making the Unseen, the Eternal, and the Infinite present to our consciousness, it is rather a good. But when all one's imaginations are wandering out of one's reach, then one realizes the future state of punishment even in this world. Pray that He will not leave my soul in hell. How Uttle can be done under the spirit of fear ; it is the very sentence pronounced upon the serpent, " Upon thy belly shalt thou go all the days of thy life." Oh, if any one thinks that, in the repentance of fear, this is the time for the soul to open to the Infinite goodness, to the spirit of love and of power and of a sound mind, in the heart's death to live and love, — let him try how hard it is to collect oneself out of distraction — let him feel the woes of sajdng To-morrow, when God has said To-day ; and then when he has found how weary, stale, fiat, and unprofitable seem all the uses of the world, let him try with a dead heart to live unto God, to love with all his strength when all energy to love is gone. The state of perfect love, expressing itself in perfect 52 HUNGER FOR RIGHTEOUSNESS pt. i Tightness of thought and deed, may be unattainable on earth, but nothing lower than the search for this ideal can satisfy the yearnings of a soul such as was Florence Night- ingale's. She had the Hunger for Righteousness. " The crown of righteousness ! " she wrote to Miss Nicholson (May 1846). " That word always strikes me more than anything in the Bible. Strange that not happiness, not rest, not forgiveness, not glory, should have been the thought of that glorious man's mind, when at the eve of the last and greatest of his labours ; all desires so swallowed up in the one great craving after righteousness that, at the end of all his struggles, it was mightier within him than ever, mightier even than the desire of peace. How can people tell one to dwell within a good conscience, when the chief of all the apostles so panted after righteousness that he considered it the last best gift, unattainable on earth, to be bestowed in Heaven ? " To do All for the Love of God was the ideal which she sought to attain. " The foundation of all must be the love of God. That the sufferings of Christ's life were intense, who doubts ? but the happiness must also have been intense. Only think of the happiness of working, and working success- fully too, and with no doubts as to His path, and with no alloy of vanity or love of display or glory, but with the ecstasy of single-heartedness ! All that I do is always poisoned by the fear that I am not doing it in simplicity and godly sincerity." This was one of the constant dreads throughout her life. When she had become famous, and was praised and courted by the popular breath, she shrank, with an abhorrence which some may have considered almost morbid and which was certainly foreign to the fashion of the world, from any avoidable publicity. This was no pose or affectation ; it was part of her religion. It was a counsel dictated by her earnest striving to dissociate her work for God from any taint of worldliness. Ill The world which came to owe much to the life and example of Florence Nightingale, owes something to Miss CH. Ill THE SERVICE OF MAN 53 Nicholson, whose gentle sympathy brought to her young friend much strength and peace. But the world may also be glad, I think, that Miss Nightingale's religious thought worked itself out in the end on lines of her own. Florence Nightingale has been enrolled by the popular voice among the saints ; but there are saints and saints — saints con- templative or mystic, and saints active and ministering. In all ages of the world there have been godly women whose passion of religious spirit has led them to lives of professional pieties, rather than of practical service ; who have spent in ecstasies of pity, or in tortures of self-abasement at the foot of the Cross, powers which might have gone to redeem and save the world. Florence Nightingale had, as we have sufficiently seen, a profound sense of personal religion. She felt, as all the saints must feel, that a religious life means a state of the soul ; but she attained also to the conviction, which became ever stronger within her, that a state of the soul can only be approved by its fruits, and that thus the Service of God is the Service of Man : — {To Miss Nicholson.) Embley, Sept. 24, [1846]. I am almost heart-broken to leave Lea Hurst. There are so many duties there which lie near at hand, and I could be well content to do them there all the days of my life. I have left so many poor friends there whom I shall never see again, and so much might have been done for them. ... I feel my sympathies are with Ignorance and Poverty. The things which interest me interest them ; we are alike in expecting little from life, much from God ; we are taken up with the same objects. . . . My imagination is so filled with the misery of this world that the only thing in which to labour brings any return, seems to me helping and sympathizing there ; and all that poets sing of the glories of this world appears to me untrue : all the people I see are eaten up with care or poverty or disease. I know that it was God who created the good, and man the evil, which was not the will of God, but the necessary consequence of His leaving free-will to man. I know that misery is the alphabet of fire, in which history, with its warning hand, writes in flaming letters the consequences of Evil (the Kingdom of Man), and that without its glaring light, we should never see the path back into the Kingdom of God, or heed the directing guide-posts. But the judgments of nature (the law of God), as she goes her mighty, solemn, inflexible march, sweeps sometimes so fearfully over 54 THE TEST OF RELIGIOUS DOCTRINE pt. i man that though it is the triumph, not the defeat of God's truth and of His laws, that falsehood against them must work misery, and misery is perhaps here the strongest proof that His loving hand is present, — yet all our powers, hopes, and fears must, it seems to me, be engrossed by doing His work for its relief. Life is no holiday game, nor is it a clever book, nor is it a school of instruction, nor a valley of tears ; but it is a hard fight, a struggle, a wrestling with the Principle of Evil, hand to hand, foot to foot. Every inch of the way must be disputed. The night is given us to take breath, to pray, to drink deep at the fountain of power. The day, to use the strength which has been given us, to go forth to work with it till the evening. The Kingdom of God is coming ; and " Thy Kingdom come " does not mean only " My salvation come." " To find out what we can do," she wrote as an annota- tion in Browning's Paracelsus, " one's individual place, as well as the General End, is man's task. To serve man for God's sake, not man's, will prevent failure from being disappointment." Florence Nightingale sought then to save her soul by serving others. It was by this same test of practical service that she came to try and to weigh the various forms of religious doctrine. Her father was, as I have said, a Unitarian, and several other members of her family circle were of the same persuasion. But she and some others of that circle con- formed in practice to the services of the English Church. And so, in some degree, Miss Nightingale continued to con- form to the end of her life ; though, as we shall find later on, she departed widely from the doctrines of the Church as ordinarily received, did not care about " going to church," and framed a creed of her own. But she always had a tolerant mind for any faith that issued in good works, and an impatience with any that did not. It is for this reason that she seemed to be all things to all men in religious matters. Her mission to the Crimea involved, as we shall learn, some religious bickerings. Protestants thought her too indulgent to Roman Catholics, and Catholics were sore that she did not go further with them. But her real attitude is perfectly clear, and was entirely consistent. If she looked with a favouring eye on Roman Catholics, it was on account, not of their dogmas, but of their deeds. Two letters to CH. Ill CATHOLICS AND PROTESTANTS 55 Madame Mohl, ten years apart in date, suggest what was always Miss Nightingale's point of view : — Lea Hurst, Sept. [1841]. We are very anxious to hear, dearest Miss Clarke, how you are going on, and how Mrs. Clarke is, some day when you are able to write. We are just returned from the Leeds Consecration, and a more curious or interesting sight I never saw. Imagine a procession of 400 clergj^- men, all in their white robes, with scarfs of blue and black and fur and even scarlet, so that I thought some of them were cardinals, headed by the Archbishop of York,i the Bishop of Ripon, &c., and most curious of all the Bishop of New Jersey to whom Dr. Hook (who is, — you know, perhaps, — the Puseyite vicar of Leeds) had written to ask him to come over from America, expressly to preach the consecration sermon. Imagine all this procession, entering the church, repeating the 24th Ps. — and then filling the space before the altar and the Transept — and all responding aloud through the service, so that the roll and echo of their responses through the Transept, without being able to see them, was the most striking thing I ever heard. It was quite a gathering-place for Puseyites from all parts of England. Papa heard them debating, whether they should have hghted candles before the Altar, but they decided no, because the Bishop of Ripon would not like it — however they had them in the evening and the next morning when he was gone — and Dr. Hook has the regular CathoUc jerk in making the genuflexion every time he approaches the altar. The church is a most magnificent one, and every one has contributed their best to it, with a true Catholic spirit ; one gave the beautiful painted window, another the Correggio for the Altar piece, the Queen Dowager the Altar-cloth, another the bells, &c., &c. Dr. Hook gives a service every morning and evening at I p. 7, and the Sacrament every Sunday ; and the aisle is all occupied by open seats. During the consecration I wished to have been a clergyman, but when Mrs. Gaskell ^ (whom I was with, she is a good Tory and half a Puseyite and withal the most general favourite and generally lenient person in England) — when she and I came down afterwards for the Sacrament, I could not help looldng in the faces of the clergymen, for the impression I expected to see, as they walked down the aisle, and wandered about, (this immense crowd) after the Sacrament — and oh ! I was woefully disappointed — they looked so stupid; and I could not help thinking. If you had been Cathohcs, you would ^ Edward Vernon Harcourt. 2 Nee Brandreth (not Mrs. Gaskell, the authoress). 56 THE " NO POPERY " AGITATION pt. i all have been on your knees during the service, without minding your fine gowns and the cold stones. Embley, Feb. 7 [1851]. ... I suppose you know how the two churches have been convulsing themselves in England in a manner discreditable to themselves and ridiculous to others. The Anglican Ch. screamed and struggled as if they were taking away something of hers, the Catholic Ch. sang and shouted as if she had conquered England — ^neither the one nor the other has happened. Only a good many people (in our Church) found out they were Cathohcs and went to Rome, and a good many other people found out they were Protestants, which they never knew before, and left the Puseyite pen, which has now lost half its sheep. At Oxford the Puseyite volcano is extinct. . . . You know what a row there will be this Session in Parliament about it. The most moderate wish for a Con- cordat, but even these say that we must strip the R.C. Bishops of their new titles. Many think the present Gov. will go out upon it, because they won't do enough to satisfy the awakened prejudices of dear John Bull. I used to think it was a mere selfish quarrel between red stockings and lawn sleeves ; but not a bit of it ; it's a real popular feeling. One would think that all our religion was political by the way we talk, and so I believe it is. From the rising of the sun until the going down of the same, you hear our clergy talking of nothing but Bishops versus Vicars General — never a word of different plans of education, prisons, penitentiaries, and so on. One would think we were born ready made as to education, but that Art made a Church. I feel little zeal in pulling down one Church or building up another, in making Bishops or unmaking them. If they would make us, our Faith would spring up of itself, and then we shouldn't want either Anglican Ch. or R.C. Church to make it for us. But, bless my soul, people are just as ignorant now of any law in the human mind as they were in Socrates' time. We have learnt the physical laws since then ; but mental laws — why, people don't even acknowledge their existence. They talk of grace and divine influence, — why, if it's an arbitrary gift from God, how unkind of Him not to give it before ! And if it comes by certain laws, why don't we find them out ? But people in England think it quite profane to talk of finding them out, and they pray " That it may please Thee to have mercy upon all men," when I should knock you down if you were to say to me " That it should please you to have mercy upon your boy." I never had any training; and training to be called " training," (as we train the fingers to play CH. Ill WOMEN AND THE CHURCH 57 scales and shakes) — I doubt whether anybody ever gets from other people, because they don't know how to give it according to any certain laws. I wish everybody would write as far as they can A Short Account of God's Dealings with them, hke the old Puritans, and then perhaps we should find out at last what are God's ways in His goings on and what are not. Arthur Stanley (afterwards the Dean) once asked her to iise her influence in preventing a friend of his and of hers from taking the step, supposed to be imminent, of joining the Roman Communion. In a long reply which Miss Nightingale wrote with great care (Nov. 26, 1852), she promised to do what she could, but explained that this might not be much. She herself remained in the Anglican Communion " because she was born there," and because the Roman Church offered some things which she personally did not want. She feared their friend might consider that such arguments as she could urge against the Roman Church applied equally against the Anglican. And, on the other hand, she had never concealed her opinion that the Roman Communion offered advantages to women which the Church of England (at that time) did not. " The Catholic orders," she wrote, " offered me work, training for that work, sympathy and help in it, such as I had in vain sought in the Church of England. The Church of England has for men bishoprics, archbishoprics, and a little work (good men make a great deal for themselves). For women she has — what ? I had no taste for theological discoveries. I would have given her my head, my heart, my hand. She y would not have them. She did not know what to do with them. She told me to go back and do crochet in my mother's drawing-room ; or, if I were tired of that, to marry and look well at the head of my husband's table. You may go to the Sunday School, if you like it, she said. But she gave me no training even for that. She gave me neither work to do for her, nor education for it." The latter part of the second letter to Miss Clarke shows Miss Nightingale's interest in speculations about the basis of moral law ; but so far as the rivalry of Churches was concerned, it was by works that she tried them. " In all the dens of disgrace and disease," she wrote in one of her 58 " WORKS, NOT DOCTRINES " pt. i note-books (1849), " ^^^ *^^ly clergy who deserve the name of pastors are the Roman Cathohc. The rest, of all de- nominations — Church of England, Church of Scotland, Dissenters — are only theology or tea mongers." " It will never do," she once said to a friend, " unless we have a Church of which the terms of membership shall be works, not doctrines." ^ She was interested, however, in doctrines also. If she was resolved to dedicate her life to the Service of Man, she was no less convinced that such service could only be ren- dered, at the best and highest, in the light, and with the sanction, of Service to God, Herein may be found an underlying unity and harmony through the many and diverse interests of her life. We shall see that she who opened new careers and standards of practical benevolence in the modern world, spent also years of thought upon the less manageable task, if not of providing the world with a new religion, at any rate of giving to old doctrines a new application, and, as she hoped, a more acceptable sanction. ^ Life of Lord Houghton, by T. Wemyss Reid, vol. i. p. 524. CHAPTER IV DISAPPOINTMENT (1846-1847) There are Private Martyrs as well as burnt or drowned ones. Society of course does not know them ; and Family cannot, because our position to one another in our families is, and must be, hke that of the Moon to the Earth. The Moon revolves round her, moves with her, never leaves her. Yet the Earth never sees but one side of her ; the other side remains for ever unknown. — Florence Nightingale (in a Note-book of 1847-49). A POET of our time has counted " Disappointment's dry and bitter root " among the ingredients of " the right mother- milk to the tough hearts that pioneer their kind." If it indeed be so, Florence Nightingale was well nurtured. The spiritual experiences and speculations, recorded in the last chapter, worked round to a justification, as we have seen, of her chosen plan of life. Religion thus brought no con- solation for the failure of her scheme to escape in December 1845. " My misery and vacuity afterwards," she wrote in an autobiographical retrospect, " were indescribable." " All my plans have been wrecked," she wrote at the time, " and my hopes destroyed, and yet without any visible, any material change." She faced the new year and its life on the old lines in a mood of depression which, with some happier intervals, was to grow deeper and more intense during the next few years. She did not, however, abandon her ideal. We shall see in subsequent chapters that neither foreign travel dis- tracted her from it, nor did opportunities for another kind of life allure her from the chosen path. The way was dark 59 6o GENTLEWOMEN AND NURSING pt. i before her ; the goal might never be reached, she often thought, in this present sphere ; but she felt increasingly that only in a life of nursing or other service to the afflicted could her being find its end and scope. " The longer I live," she wrote in her diary (June 22, 1846), " the more I feel as if all my being was gradually drawing to one point, and if I could be permitted to return and accomplish that in another being, if I may not in this, I should need no other heaven. I could give up the hope of meeting and living with those I have loved (and nobody knows how I love) and been separated from here, if it would please God to give me, with a nearer consciousness of His Presence, the task of doing this in the real life." Meanwhile she pursued her inquiries. Now that the fruits of Florence Nightingale's pioneer work have been gathered, and that nursing is one of the recognized occupa- tions for gentlewomen, it is not altogether easy to realize the difficulties which stood in her way. The objections were moral and social, rooted to large measure in conven- tional ideas. Gentlewomen, it was felt, would be exposed, if not to danger and temptations, at least to undesirable and unfitting conditions. " It was as if I had wanted to be a kitchen-maid," she said in later years. Nothing is more tenacious than a social prejudice. But the prejudice was in part founded on very intelligible reasons, and in part was justified by the level of the nursing profession at the time. These are considerations to which full weight must be allowed, both in justice to those who opposed Miss Nightin- gale's plans, and in order to understand her own courage and persistence. The idea was widely prevalent at the time that for certain cases in hospital practice a modest woman was, from the nature of things, unsuited to act as a nurse. Mr. Nightingale, who desired to do what was right by his daughter, made many inquiries, and consulted many friends. There is a letter to him from a Brighton doctor arguing against the prevalent belief, and maintaining stoutly that " women of a proper age and character are not unfit for such cases. Age, habit, and office give the mind a different turn." But the whole of this letter shows a degree of broad- mindedness with regard to the education and sphere of CH. IV CHARACTER OF HOSPITAL NURSES 6i women which was in advance of the average opinion at the time. And in any case, whether women were fit or unfit by nature, it was certain that many, perhaps most, of the women actually engaged in nursing were unfit by character, and that a refined gentlewoman, who joined the profession, might thus find herself in unpleasant surroundings. We shall have to consider this matter more fully in a subsequent chapter. Here it will suffice to say that though there were better-managed hospitals and worse-managed, yet there was a strong body of evidence to show that hospital nurses had opportunities, which they freely used, for putting the bottle to their lips " when so disposed," and that other evils were more or less prevalent also.^ Reports from Paris and its famous schools of medicine and surgery were no better. One who had been through it said that life at the " Mater- nite " was very coarse. In the cliniquc obstetricale at the Ecole de Medecin, " the eleves have the reputation of being pretty generally the students' mistresses." The difficulties in the way of a refined woman, who sought to obtain access to the best training, were very great. Dr. Elizabeth Black- well, a pioneer among woman-doctors in America, told Miss Nightingale of a young girl who had planned, as the only feasible way of studying surgery in Paris, to don male attire. " Pantaloons will be accepted as a token she is in earnest, while a petticoat is always a flag for intrigue. She has a deep voice, and I think will pass muster exceedingly well among a set of young students, but I shall be quite sorry for her to sacrifice a mass of beautiful dark auburn hair ! What a strange age we live in ! What singular sacrifices and extraordinary actions are required of us in the service of truth ! An age of reform is a stirring, exciting one, but it is not the most beautiful." The more she heard of the worst, the more was Florence Nightingale resolved to make things better ; but the more her parents heard, the greater and the more natural was their repugnance. Somebody ^ See Miss Nightingale's letter, printed below (p. 117). Similarly she wrote to her father in 1854 (Feb. 22), that the head nurse in a certain London hospital told her that " in the course of her large experience she had never known a nurse who was not drunken, and that there was immoral ■ conduct practised in the very wards, of which she gave me some awful ', examples." 62 THE CASE FOR SISTERHOODS pt. i must do the rough pioneer work of the world ; but one can understand how the parents of an attractive daughter, for whom their own hfe at home seemed to them to open many possibilities of comfortable happiness, came to desire that in this case the somebody should be somebody else. Miss Nightingale herself was so much impressed by the difficulties and dangers in the way of women nurses, that she was inclined at first to the idea that the admission of gentle- women into the calling could best be secured, either in special hospitals connected with some religious institution, or in general hospitals under cover of some religious bond. " I think," wrote Monckton Milnes to his wife, " that Florence always much distrusted the Sisterhood matter," ^ and such was the case. Her inner thought was that no vow was needed other than the nurse's own fitness for the calling and devotion to it. But she was engaged in the crusade of a pioneer, and had to consider what was practically expedient and immediately feasible, as well as what was theoretically reasonable. Dr. Black well was of the same opinion. She did not like religious orders in themselves ; they only " become beautiful," she said, " as an expedient, a temporary condition, an antidote to present evils." Miss Nightingale was therefore intensely interested in the Institution for Deaconesses, with its hospital, school, and penitentiary, which a Protestant minister. Pastor Theodor Fliedner, had established some years before at Kaiserswerth. Her family were great friends with the Bunsens, and the Baron had sent Florence one of Pastor Fliedner' s Annual Reports.^ Her interest in it was twofold. It was the kind of institution to which Protestant mothers might not object to send their daughters. It was also in some sort a school of nursing where, whatever wider scope might afterwards be attainable, gentlewomen could serve an apprenticeship to the calling. " Flo," wrote her sister to a friend in 1848, " is exceedingly ^ Life of Lord Houghton, vol. i. p. 524. * In many accounts of Kaiserswerth and of Florence Nightingale, it is stated that her knowledge of the Institution came from Elizabeth Fry. It was a pleasant temptation to establish such a link between these two famous women, but Mrs. Fry was dead (1845) before Miss Nightingale had ever heard, so far as her papers show, of Kaiserswerth. CH. IV REPORTS FROM KAISERSWERTH 63 full of the Hospital Institutions of Germany, which she thinks so much better than ours. Do you know anything of the great establishment at Kaiserswerth, where the schools, the reform place for the wicked, and a great hospital are all under the guidance of the Deaconesses ? " Two years before (June 1846) Florence herself had written to Miss Hilary Bonham Carter, begging her to ask Mrs. Jameson about " the German • lady she knew, who, not being a Catholic, could not take upon herself the vows of a Sister of Charity, but who obtained permission from the physician of the hospital of her town to attend the sick there, and perform all the duties which the Soeurs do at Dublin and the Hotel Dieu, and who had been | there fifteen years when Mrs. Jameson knew her. I do not want to know her name, if it is a secret ; but only if she has ^ extended it further into anything like a Protestant Sister-/ hood, if she had any plans of that sort which should embrace; women of an educated class, and not, as in England, merely women who would be servants if they were not nurses. How she disposed of the difficulties of surgeons making love to her, and of living with the women of indifferent character who generally make the nurses of hospitals, as it appears she was quite a young woman when she began, and these are the difficulties which vows remove which one sees nothing else can." Perhaps it was as a result of these inquiries that* Florence Nightingale became acquainted, through Baron von Bunsen, with the institution at Kaiserswerth ; though, as appears from a letter given below, Madame Mohl had also sent her some information about it. It is certain that by the autumn of 1846 she was in possession of its Reports, and that the place had become the home of her heart. During these years she was also quietly pursuing studies on medical and sanitary subjects. II With such thoughts in her mind, the routine of home life became more than ever empty and distasteful. Here are two typical extracts from her diary of 1846 : — Lea Hurst, July 7. What is my business in this world and what have I done this last fortnight ? I have read the Daughter 64 EMPTINESS OF HOME LIFE pt. i at Home ^ to Father and two chapters of Mackintosh ; a volume of Sybil to Mama. Learnt seven tunes by heart. Written various letters. Ridden with Papa. Paid eight visits. Done company. And that is all, Embley, Oct. 7. What have I done the last three months ? happy, happy six weeks at the Hurst, where (from July 15 to Sept. i) I had found my business in this world. My heart was filled. My soul was at home. I wanted no other heaven. May God be thanked as He never yet has been thanked for that glimpse of what it is to live. Now for the last five weeks my business has been much harder. They don't know how weary this way of life is to me — this table d'hdte of people. . . . When I want Erfrischung 1 read a little of the Jahresberichte icber die Diakonissen-Anstalt in Kaiserswerth. There is my home ; there are my brothers and sisters all at work. There my heart is, and there I trust one day will be my body ; whether in this state or in the next, in Germany or in England, 1 do not care. The " happy six weeks at Lea Hurst " were a time, as appears from the letter to Miss Nicholson already given (P- 53)' when she found opportunity to do much sick- visiting. " One's days pass away," she added in the same letter, " like a shadow, and leave not a trace behind. How we spend hours that are sacred in things that are profane, which we choose to call necessities, and then say ' We cannot ' to our Father's business." At Embley the oppor- tunities for work among the poor were less favourable. The distances were greater. Florence interested herself, so far as she was able, in the school at Wellow ; and amongst her papers of 1846 there is an able discussion of the defects of elementary education as she had there observed them. But the distractions were many. There was a constant round of company at home ; and, as has been said before, the migrations of the family between London, Lea Hurst, and Embley were fatal to concentration of effort. Ill The year 1847 was one of much social movement in Miss Nightingale's life. In the spring she was in London ^ See below, p. 94. CH. IV A VISIT TO OXFORD 65 " doing the exhibitions and hearing Jenny Lind ; but it really requires a new language to define her." Then she went with her parents to the meeting of the British Associa- tion at Oxford, where Adams and Leverrier, the twin dis- coverers of Neptune, were the lions of the day. She wrote many lively accounts of the meeting to her friends, from which a passage or two may be given : — Here we are in the midst of loveliness and learning ; for never anything so beautiful as this place is looking now, my dearest, have I seen abroad or at home, with its flowering acacias in the midst of its streets of palaces. I saunter about the church- yards and gardens by myself before breakfast, and wish I were a College man. I wish you could see the Astronomical Section — Leverrier and Adams sitting on either side of the President, like a pair of turtle-doves cooing at their joint star and holding it between them. . . . We work hard. Chapel at 8, to that glorious service at New College ; such an anthem yesterday morning ! and that quiet cloister where no one goes. I brought home a white rose to-day to dry in remembrance. Sections from II to 3. Then Colleges or Blenheim till dinner time. Then lecture at 8 in the Radcliffe Library. And philosopliical tea and muffins at somebody's afterwards. The Fowlers, Hamilton Grays, Barlows and selves are the muffins ; Wheat- stone, Hallam, Chevalier, Monckton Milnes and some of the great guns occasionally are the philosophy . . . and so forth, and so forth ; with particulars of " church every two hours " on Sunday, and of a luncheon with Buck- land and his famous menagerie at Christ Church, when Florence petted a little bear, and her father drew her away, but Mr. Milnes mesmerised it. " And one thing more," she adds ; " Mr. Hallam's discovery that Gladstone is the Beast 666 (in the Revelations) came to him one day by inspiration in the Athenaeum, after he had tried Pusey and Newman, and found that they wouldn't do." Miss Nightingale paid many visits during the same year with her father. They went, for instance, to Lord Sher- borne, whose daughter, Mrs. Plunkett, became a great friend of hers ; and they spent a couple of days with Lord Lovelace. Lady Lovelace, Byron's daughter, conceived a great admira- tion for Florence Nightingale, which found expression in the verses already quoted. It was in this year that Miss VOL. I F 66 SAPPHO'S LEAP px. i Clarke married her old admirer, M. Mohl. Florence's letter of congratulation was not without significance upon the state of her own feelings, as will be seen in a later chapter : — Embley, October 13 [1847]. Dearest Friend — To think that you are now a two months' wife, and I have never written to tell you that your piece of news gave me more joy than I ever felt in all my Ufe, except once, no, not even excepting that once, because that was a game of Blind-man 's-Buff, — and in your case you knew even as you were known. I had the news on a Sunday from dear Ju, and it was indeed a Sunday joy and I kept it holy, though not like the city, which was to be in cotton to be looked at only on Sundays. As has often been said, we must all take Sappho's leap, one way or other, before we attain to her repose — though some take it to death, and some to marriage, and some again to a new life even in this world. Which of them to the better part, God only knows. Popular prejudice gives it in favour of marriage. Should we not look upon marriage, less as an absolute blessing, than as a remove into another and higher class of this great school-room — a promotion — for it is a promotion, which creates new duties, before which the coward sometimes shrinks, and gives new lessons, of more advanced knowledge, with more advanced powers to meet them, and a much clearer power of vision to read them. In your new development of hfe, I take, dearest friend, a right fervent interest, and bless you with a right heart- felt and earnest love. We are only just returned to Embley, after having passed through London, on our way from Derbyshire. News have I none, excepting iinancial, for no one could talk of anything in London excepting the horrid quantity of failures in the City, by which aU England has suffered more or less. Why didn't I write before ? Because I thought you would rather be let alone at first and that you were on your travels. And now for my confessions. I utterly abjure, I entirely renounce and abhor, all that I may have said about M. Robert Mohl, not because he is now your brother-in-law, but because I was so moved and touched by the letters which he wrote after your marriage to Mama ; so anxious they were to know more about you, so absorbed in the subject, so eager to prove to us that his brother was such a man, he was quite sure to make you happy. And I have not said half enough either upon that score, not anything that I feel ; how " to marry " is no impersonal CH. IV MARRIAGE OF MISS CLARKE 67 verb, upon which I am to congratulate you, but depends entirely upon the Accusative Case which it governs, upon which I do wish you heartfelt and trusting joy. In single hfe the stage of the Present and the Outward World is so filled with phantoms, the phantoms, not unreal tho' intangible, of Vague Remorse, Tears, dwelhng on the threshold of every thing we undertake alone, Dissatisfaction with what is, and Restless Yearnings for what is not, cravings after a world of wonders (which is, but is like the chariot and horses of fire, which Ehsha's frightened servant could not see, till his eyes were opened) — the stage of actual Hfe gets so filled with these that we are almost pushed off the boards and are conscious of only just holding on to the foot lights by our chins, yet even in that very inconvenient position love still precedes joy, as in St. Paul's list, for love laying to sleep these phantoms (by assuring us of a love so great that we may lay aside all care for our own happiness, not because it is of no consequence to us, whether we are happy or not, as Carlyle says, but because it is of so much consequence to another) gives that leisure frame to our mind, which opens it at once to joy. But how impertinently I ramble on — " You see a penitent before you," don't say " I see an impudent scoundrel before me " — But when thou seest, and what's more, when thou readest, forgive. — You will not let another year pass without our seeing you. M. Mohl gives us hopes, in his letter to Ju, that you won't, that you will come to England next year for many months, then, dearest friend, we will have a long talk out. If not, we really must come to Paris — and then I shall see you, and see the Deaconesses too, whom you so kindly wrote to me about, but of whom I have never heard half enough. . . . The Bracebridges are at home — she rejoiced as much as we did over your event — Parthe is going at the end of November to do Officiating Verger to a friend of ours on a like event. — Her prospects are hkewise so satisfactory, that I can rejoice and sympathize under any form she may choose to marry in. Other- wise I think that the day will come, when it will surprise us as much, to see people dressing up for a marriage, as it would to see them put on a fine coat for the Sacrament. Why should the Sacrament or Oath of Marriage be less sacred than any other ? The letter goes on to speak of a visit recently paid to Mrs. Archer Clive, well known in her day as the authoress of Poems by V. and of Paul F err oil, a sensational novel of some force, — a lady whose powers of heart and mind were housed in an infirm body. Miss Nightingale admired her talents and her character, and valued her friendship. 68 A DISTRACTION pt. i But new friendships and varied interests did not bring satisfaction to Miss Nightingale. She was still constantly bent on pursuing a vocation of her own. Her parents caught eageriy at an opportunity which offered itself at the end of this year (1847), for giving, as they hoped, a new turn to her thoughts. CHAPTER V A WINTER IN ROME ; AND AFTER (1847-1849) Six months of Rome and happiness. — Florence Nightingale (i It was an event of some importance in the Nightingale family when Florence set out with Mr. and Mrs. Bracebridge, in the autumn of 1847, ^^ spend the winter at Rome. The attraction to her was the society of Mrs. Bracebridge, the friend of whom she spoke as " her Ithuriel." Moreover the mental unrest from which Florence constantly suffered at home was beginning to tell upon her health. " All that I want to do in life," she wrote to her cousin Hilary, in ex- plaining the motive of the tour, " depends upon my health, which, I am told, a winter in Rome will establish for ever." She took the foreign tour as a tonic to enable her the better to fulfil her vocation. By her parents and her sister the tour was regarded as a tonic which might divert her from it. They hoped that foreign travel would distract her thoughts, and dispel what they perhaps considered morbid fancies. She would enjoy pleasant companionship. She would see famous and beautiful things. She might return converted to the more comfortable belief that her duty lay in accepting life as she found it. The point of view comes out clearly enough in a letter from her sister to Miss Bonham Carter : — Embley, October [1847]. It is a very great pleasure to think of her with such a companion, one who, she says, lives always with the best part of her ; one who has all the sense and discretion and the warm-hearted sympathy and the quick enjoyment and the taste and the affection which will most give her happiness ; who will value her and take care of her, and do 69 70 WINTER IN ROME : 1847-8 pt. i her all the good mentally and bodily one can fancy. Yes, dear, God is very good to provide such a pleasant time, and it will rest her mind, I think, entirely from wearing thoughts that all men have at home when their duties weigh much on their consciences, while she wiU feel she is wasting nothing ; for Mrs. Bracebridge has not been at all well and Flo wiU feel herself a comfort and a help to her, I hope, for I know she is a great one. . . . Though it is but for so short a time, yet it seems to me a great event, the solemn first launching her into Hfe, and my heart is very full of many feehngs, but yet the joy is greatest by an incalculable deal, for one does not see how harm can come to her. Yet when one loves a great deal, one cannot but be a httle anxious, ... It is so pretty to see Papa wandering over the big map of Rome remembering every comer, and Mama over Piranesi, and both over all the fair things that dwell there as the' they had just left them. And Florence herself did find comfort and pleasure in the tour ; but it was destined not to divert, but to strengthen, her purpose, as also to lay a train of circumstances which was to lead her to the Crimea. Florence and her companions reached Paris on October 27, took ship at Marseilles for Civita Vecchia, and stayed in Rome — in the Via S. Bastinello (No. 8) — from the beginning of November till March 29, 1848. Florence entered heartily into all the pursuits and occupations of elegant tourists in Rome, She studied the ruins ; explored the catacombs ; copied inscriptions ; visited the churches and galleries ; spent a morning in Gibson's studio and another in Over- beck's ; collected plants in the Colosseum ; rode in the Campagna, and bought brooches, mosaics, and Roman pearls. Her father had drawn out a programme of famous sights and pretty walks and drives ; and the methodical Florence duly ticked them off on the list. She read her own thoughts and aspirations into many of the works of art. She greatly admired the Apollo Belvedere, seeing in it the type of triumphant Free Will. " We can never lose the recollection of our poor selves while we still do things with difficulty, while we are still uncertain whether we shall succeed or not. The triumph of success may be great and cH. V THE SISTINE CHAPEL 71 delightful, but the divine life — eternal life — is when to will is to do, when the will is the same thing as the act, and therefore the act is unconscious." Of the Jupiter of the Capitol, again, she says : " Jupiter is that perfect grace in power where the divine Will, pure from exertion, speaks, and It is done." But what chiefly interested her, what really impressed her mind and stimulated her imagination, was the genius of Michael Angelo : — {To her Sister.) December ly [1847]. Oh, my dearest, I have had such a day — my red Dominical, my Golden Letter, the 15th of December is its name, and of all my days in Rome this has been the most happy and glorious. Think of a day alone in the Sistine Chapel with 2 [Selina, Mrs. Bracebridge], quite alone, without custode, without visitors, looking up into that heaven of angels and prophets. ... I did not think that I was looking at pictures, but straight into Heaven itself, and that the faults of the representation and the blackening of the colours were the dimness of my own earthly vision, which would only allow me to see obscurely, indistinctly, what was there in all its glory to be known even as I w^as known, if mortal eyes and understandings were cleared from the mists wliich we have wilfully thrown around them. There is Daniel, opening his windows and praying to the God of his Fathers three times a day in defiance of fear. You see that young and noble head like an eagle's, disdaining danger, those glorious eyes undazzled by all the honours of Babylon. Then comes Isaiah, but he is so divine that there is nothing but his own 53rd chapter will describe him. He is the Isaiah, the " grosse Unbekannte " of the Comfort ye, Comfort ye my people. I was rather startled at first by finding him so young, which was not my idea of him at all, while the others are old. But M. Angelo knew him better ; it is the perpetual youth of inspiration, the vigour and freshness, ever new, ever living, of that eternal spring of thought which is typed under that youthful face. Genius has no age, while mind (Zechariah) has no youth. Next to Isaiah comes the Delphic Sibyl, the most beautiful, the most inspired of all the Sibyls here ; but the distinction which M. Angelo has drawn even between her and the Prophets is so interesting. There is a security of inspiration about Isaiah ; he is listening and he is speaking ; " that which we hear we declare unto you." There is an anxiety, an effort to hear even, about the Delphian ; she is not quite sure ; there is an uncertainty, a wistfulness in her eyes ; she expects to be rewarded rather in another stage than this for her struggle to gain the prize of her high calling, to reach 72 THE DELPHIC SIBYL pt. i to the Unknown that Isaiah knows already. There is no un- certainty as to her feeling of being called to hear the voice, but she fears that her earthly ears are heavy and gross, and corrupt the meaning of the heavenly words. I cannot tell you how affecting this anxious look of her far-reaching eyes is to the poor mortals standing on the pavement below, while the Prophets ride secure on the storm of Inspiration, ... I feel these things to be part of the word of God, of the ladder to Heaven. The word of God is all by which He reveals His thought, all by which He makes a manifestation of Himself to men. It is not to be narrowed and confined to one book, or one nation ; and no one can have seen the Sistine without feeling that he has been very near to God, that he will understand some of His words better for ever after ; and that Michael Angelo, one of the greatest of the sons of men, when one looks at the dome of St. Peter's on the one hand and the prophets and martyrs on the other, has received as much of the breath of God, and has done as much to communicate it to men, as any Seer of old. He has performed that wonderful miracle of giving form to the breath of God, wonderful whether it is done by words, colours, or hard stones. . . . The thoughts and emotions which have been suggested by the contemplation of the vault of the Sistine Chapel are countless. None are more enthusiastic than those which it inspired in Florence Nightingale, and few have been so discriminating. It is at once the privilege and a mark of consummate works of art to be capable of as many meanings as they may find of competent spectators. Each man brings to the study of them the insight of which he is capable ; and each, perchance, finds in them some image of himself or of his own experience. " There are few moments, most prob- ably," Florence Nightingale went on to say, " which we shall carry with us through the gate of Death, few recollec- tions which will stand the Eternal Light." She felt as she came out of the Sistine Chapel that her first sight of Michael Angelo's stupendous work would be one of those few for her. We may surmise that the wistful uncertainty which she found in the face of the Delphic Sibyl had especially appealed to her in its truth to life as she had experienced it ; conscious as she was of a call from God, conscious also as she could not but have been of great powers, and yet doubt- ful whether on this side of the gate of Death it would be cii. V ON THE MONTE MARIO 73 given to her to inteq^ret the Divine voice aright. She retained to the end of her Hfe the same reverential feeUng for Michael Angelo. She had photographs and engravings of the Sistine ceiling hanging in her rooms, and she sent some framed and inscribed photographs of the symbolical figures on the Medici tombs to hang at Embley on the little private staircase, where her father fell and died. Those at her home were bequeathed specifically in her Will. The afternoon of the day on which the revelation of the Sistine Chapel came to her was spent by Florence and her friend in walking up the Monte Mario, to enjoy the famous view from the Villa Mellini, not then, as now, included within a fort : — "We spent an exquisite half-hour," she wrote, "mooning, or rather sunning about ; the whole Campagna and city lying at our feet, the sea on one side hke a golden laver below the declining sun, the windings of the Tiber and the hills of Lucretilis on the other, with Frascati, Tivoli, Tusculum on their cypress sides, for in that clear atmosphere you could see the very cypresses of Maecenas' villa at Tivoli ; with long stripes of violet and pomegranate coloured light sweeping over the plain like waves ; one stone pine upon the edge of our Mellini hill ; and Rome, the fallen Babylon, like a dead city beneath, no sound of multi- tudes ascending, but the only life these great crimson lights and shadows (for here the shadow of a red light is violet) like the carnation-coloured wings of angels, themselves invisible, flapping over the plain and leaving this place behind them. We rushed down as fast as we could for the sun was setting, and we reached St. Peter's just as the doors were going to close. We had the great Church all to ourselves, the tomb of St. Peter wreathed with lights. It felt like the times when a Christian knight watched by his arms before some great enterprise at the Holy Sepulchre ; and one shadowy white angel we could see through the windows over the great door ; and do you know he quite made us start as he stood there in the gloaming. Of course it was the marble statue on the fagade ; and there were workmen still laughing and talking at the extreme end, and their sounds, as they were repeated under the long vaults, were like the gibbering of devils, and their lanthorns, as they wavered along close to the ground, were hke corpse-Ughts. I thought of St. Anthony and holy knights and their temptations. And at last the Sacristan took us out of that vast solemn dome through a tomh ! and we ghded into the silvery moonlight, and walked home over Ponte St. Angelo, where I made a Httle 74 LIBERAL CATHOLICISM px. i invocation to St. Michael to help me to thank; for why the Protestants should shut themselves out, in solitary pride, from the Communion of Saints in heaven and in earth, I never could understand. And so ended this glorious day." The obsession of Rome, which sooner or later comes upon every intelligent visitor to the Eternal City, dated in the case of Florence Nightingale from this golden-letter day. She surmounted the sense of confusion which sometimes oppresses the traveller. " I do not feel," she wrote, " though Pagan in the morning, Jew in the afternoon, and Christian in the evening, anything but a unity of interest in all these representations. To know God we must study Him as much in the Pagan and Jewish dispensations as in the Christian (though that is the last and most perfect manifestation) , and this gives unity to the whole — one continuous thread of interest to all these pearls." II The politics of modern Italy interested her no less than the ruins of ancient Rome or the monuments of mediaeval art. She had met many Italian refugees, both at Geneva and in the salon of Madame Mohl in Paris, and was a whole- hearted enthusiast in the cause of Italian freedom. Her present visit to Rome synchronized with that curious and short-lived episode in the struggle during which Pio Nono was playing " the ineffectual tragedy of Liberal Catholicism." All Rome seemed seized with sympathy for the cities beyond the Papal states, which were fighting for liberty, and within the states themselves Pio Nono's offerings of mild benevol- ence sufficed to call forth " floods of ecstatic, demonstrative Italian humanity, torchlight processions, and crowds kneel- ing at his feet." i Miss Nightingale saw the Roman nobles, Prince Corsini, Prince Gaetano, and others, presiding at " patriotic altars," which had been set up in the public squares for the receipt of gifts in money and in jewellery. She heard the famous Father Gavazzi preach the crusade in the Colosseum. She cheered as the Tricolor of Italy was hoisted on the Capitol. " I certainly was born," she wrote ^ G. M. Trevelyan, Garibaldi's Defence of the Roman Republic, p. 65. cH. V PIO NONO AS PATRIOT HERO 75 to her cousin Hilary, " to be a tag-rag-and-bob-tail, for when I hear of a popular demonstration, I am nothing better than a ragamuffin." She heard the rumble of a distant drum, and rushed up for Mr. Bracebridge, and he and she broke their own windows because they were not illuminated ; stayed to see the torchlight procession of patriots singing the hymn to Pio Nono, and were rewarded by the crowd crying " God save the Queen," as they passed the English " milord " and his companion. " Very touching," she said ; " though royalty was the very last thing I was thinking of " ; for at this time, as she often avowed in her letters, her sympathies were Republican. " When this memorable year began with all its revolutions," she wrote later to Madame Mohl, after disillusion had come (June 27), "I thought that it was the Kingdom of Heaven coming under the fate of a Republic. But alas ! things have shown that more of us must slowly ripen to angels here, before the regime of the angels, i.e. the Kingdom of Heaven, will begin." But for the moment everything seemed radiant. She recorded with pleasure in February that a deputation of Romans had gone up to the Pope to express their " complete confidence in him." In her note-books she collected par- ticulars of his life and character ; and when in March he granted what can only be called a sort of a Constitution, she wrote to Madame Mohl : " My dear Santo Padre seems doing very well. He has given up his Temporal Power. No man took it from him ; he laid it down of himself. I think that he will reign in history as the only prince who ever did, and that his character is nearer Christ's than any I ever heard of." History will hardly confirm this saying ; but if Miss Nightingale's words seem ill-balanced in the light of subsequent events, let it be remembered that, as Mr. Trevelyan says, " the cult of Pio Nono was for some months the religion of Italy, and of Liberals and exiles all over the world. Even Garibaldi in Monte Video, and Mazzini in London, shared the enthusiasm of the hour." A year later, when the Roman Republic had been declared and the Pope had fled, and the French troops besieged Rome on his be- half, Miss Nightingale had only pity for Pio Nono ; her anger she reserved for the French " cannibals," for the one 76 FRANCE AND THE ROMAN REPUBLIC pt. i Republic that was devouring another. " I must exhale my rage and indignation," she wrote in a diary (June 30, 1849), " before I have lost all notions of absolute right and wrong. It makes my heart bleed that the French nation, the nation above all others capable of an ideal, of aspiring after the abstract right, should have lent itself to such a brutal crime against its own brother — one may say its own offspring, for the Roman Republic sprang from the French ; it is purest cannibalism ; this breaks my heart. When I think of that afternoon at Villa Mellini (now occupied by a French general) , of Rome, bathed in her crimson and purple shadows, lying at our feet, and St. Michael spreading his wings over all — the Angel of Regeneration as we thought him then — my eyes fill with tears. But he will be the Angel of Re- generation yet." The French, she said, might reduce the city and occupy it ; but the heroic defence of the Republic /" will have raised the Romans in the moral scale, and in their own esteem." They would never sink back to what they had been. Sooner or later, Rome would be free. She was especially indignant at the talk which she heard on all sides in cultivated society at home about the " vandalism " of the Romans in exposing their precious monuments of art to assault. She loved those monuments, as we have seen ; but if the defence of Rome against the French required it, she would have been ready to see them all levelled to the ground. " They must carry out their defence to the last," she cried. " I should like to see them fight the streets, inch by inch, till the last man dies at his barricade, till St. Peter's is level with the ground, till the Vatican is blown into the air. Then would this be the last of such brutal, not house-breakings, but city-breakings ; then, and not till then, would Europe do justice to France as a thief and a murderer, and a similar crime be rendered impossible for all ages. If I were in Rome, I should be the first to fire the Sistine, turning my head aside, and Michael Angelo would cry, ' Well done,' as he saw his work destroyed." It was not only in relation to the restraints of conventional domes- ticity that Florence Nightingale was a rebel. STUDIES IN ROMAN DOCTRINE 77 III During her o^vn stay in Rome, however, there was some- thing which interested her more than Roman pohtics or Roman monuments. It was the philanthropic work of a Convent School. Every visitor to Rome knows the Trinita de' Monti. The flight of steps between the church and the Piazza di Spagna is celebrated alike for its own beauty and for the flower-girls and women in peasant-costume who frequent it. The church itself contains many fine works of art, and the choral service is one of the attrac- tions of ecclesiastical Rome. The neighbourhood is rich in artistic and literary associations. Florence Nightingale had sympathetic eyes and ears for all these things ; but what attracted her most was the convent attached to the church, with its school for girls, and (in another part of the city) its orphanage. She was broad-minded, as we have seen in an earlier chapter, in relation to church creeds. It was by works, not faith, or at any rate by faith issuing in works, that she weighed the churches. It was characteristic of the thoroughness of her mental character that during this sojourn in Rome she made a methodical study of Roman doctrine and ritual. Among her papers and note-books belonging to this time, there are careful analyses of the theory of Indulgence, of the Real Presence, of the Rosary, and so forth. She made, too, a careful collation of the Latin Breviary with the English Prayer-Book. She summed up her comparative study of the churches in this generaliza- tion : 'I The great merit of the Catholic Church : its assertion of the truth that God still inspires mankind as much as ever. Its great fault : its limiting this inspiration to itself. The great merit of Protestantism : its proclamation of freedom of conscience within the limits of the Scriptures. Its great fault : its erection of the Bible into a master of the soul." Her deep sense of the self-responsibility of every human soul kept her free from any inclination to Roman doctrine ; but , she was profoundly impressed by the practical beneficence j of Roman sisterhoods. An example of such beneficence she found in the school and orphanage of the Dames 78 THE SECRET OF DEVOTION pt. i du Sacre Cceur. She had picked up a poor girl called Felicetta Sensi, and procured her admission as a free boarder, paying for her care and education for many years. She formed a warm attachment to the Lady Superior, the Madre Sta. Colomba. She studied the organization, rules, and methods of the large school, and for ten days she went into Retreat in the Convent. ^ Her intercourse with the Madre Sta. Colomba, of whose talk and spiritual experiences she made full and detailed notes, made a very deep impression on her mind. She studied rules and organization, but, as in all her studies, she was seeking a motive, as well as, and indeed more than, a method. Many years later, a friend wrote to her : "It seems to me that the greatest want among nurses is devotion. I use the word in a very wide sense, meaning that state of mind in which the current of desire is flowing towards one high end. This does not pre- suppose knowledge, but it very soon attains it." ^ This was a profound conviction of her own, often expressed, as we shall hear, in her Addresses and Letters of Exhortation in later years. What she set herself to study at the Trinita de' Monti was the secret of devotion. She made notes of the Lady Superior's exhortations ; of the spiritual exercises which were enjoined upon novices ; of the forms and dis- cipline of self-examination. She sought to extract the secret, and to apply it to the inculcation of the highest kind of service to man as the service of God. For many years the thought in her mind was to be the foundation of some distinctive order or sisterhood ; and though in the end she came to be glad that she had not done this, she never abandoned the high ideal which was behind her thought. Nor, though in some ways and in some cases she came to be disillusioned about nursing sisterhoods, did she ever cease to speak with admiration of what she had seen and learnt in some of them. She thought more often, and with more affectionate remembrance, about the spirit ^ The Convent was giving hospitality at this time to the Abbess of Minsk (in Lithuania), whose persecution by the Russian Government formed the subject of much debate. Miss Nightingale wrote a long account of the extraordinary adventures which the Abbess related to her. She was advised in 1853 to print this, but I cannot find that she did so. ^ Letter from R. Angus Smith, July 7, 1859. CH. V MEETING WITH SIDNEY HERBERT 79 of the best Catholic sisterhoods than of Kaiserswerth, or indeed of anything else in her professional experience. In such studies upon the Trinita de' Monti in the winter of 1847-48, she was taken, as she said in a note of self- examination, out of all interests that fostered her " vanity " ; it was her " happiest New Year." " The most entire and unbroken freedom from dreaming I ever had," she wrote at a later time. " Oh, how happy I was ! " And so again, looking back after twenty years, she wrote : "I never en- joyed any time in my life so much as my time at Rome." ^ IV Another incident of Miss Nightingale's sojourn in Rome was destined, though she knew it not at the time, to have a far-reaching influence upon her career. Among the English visitors who spent the winter of 1847-48 in Rome were Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Herbert. Mr. Herbert had already been Secretary at War under Peel, a post to which he was after- wards to return under Aberdeen. The resignation of Peel's Cabinet in 1846 released Mr. Herbert from official work. Later in the year he married a lady with whom he had been long acquainted, Elizabeth a Court, daughter of General Charles Ashe a Court ; and in the following year he and his wife set out for a long Continental tour. Mr. and Mrs. Bracebridge were friends of the Herberts, and thus Florence Nightingale made their acquaintance in Rome. In her retrospect she specially recalled the beginning there of her friendship with Sidney Herbert " under the dear Bracebridges' wing." Compatriots who meet in this way in any foreign resort are apt to see a good deal of each other, and from this winter dates the beginning of a friendship which was to be a governing factor in the life of Florence Nightingale. Sidney Herbert, when they met in galleries or at soirees, or rode together in the Campagna, must have been struck by Miss Nightin- gale's marked abilities, and for Mrs. Herbert she formed an affectionate attachment. She noted " the great kind- ness, the desire of love, the magnanimous generosity " ^ Letter to M. Mohl, Nov, 21, 1869. 8o LORD ASHLEY AND THE CHARTISTS ft. i of her new friend. Mr. and Mrs. Herbert saw much of Archdeacon Manning (the future cardinal), who was also spending the winter in Rome, and Miss Nightingale was on friendly terms with him.^ This also was an acquaintance which had some influence on her future career. Sidney Herbert, aided by the ready sympathy of his wife, was devoting much thought, now liberated from official duties, to schemes of benevolence among the poor on his estates. " He felt strongly the disadvantage at which the poor were placed in being compelled after illness, and perhaps after undergoing painful operations, to return in the earliest stage of convalescence, without rest or change, to their accustomed labour." ^ He was full of a scheme for a Con- valescent Home and Cottage Hospital (such as is now no rarity, but was then almost unknown) , and it can be imagined with what zest Miss Nightingale shared his thoughts. One of the first things which she records in her diary after return from the Continent is "an expedition with Mrs. Sidney Herbert to set up her Convalescent Home at Charmouth " ; but this was only a passing incident, and return to the habitual home life, after the distraction of foreign travel, left her no more contented than before. On her return to London in the early summer of 1848 she sent her friends occasionally the talk of the town : — {To Madame Mohl.) July 26 [1848]. In London there have been the usual amount of Charity Balls, Charity Concerts, Charity Bazaars, whereby people bamboozle their consciences and shut their eyes. Nevertheless there does not seem the slightest prospect of a revolution here. Why, would be hard to say, as England is surely the country where luxury has reached its height and poverty its depth. Perhaps it is our Poor Law, perhaps the strength of our Middle Class, perhaps a greater degree of sympathy between the rich and poor, which is the conservative principle. Lord Ashley had a Chartist deputation with him the other day, who stayed to tea and talked with him for five hours. " That a man should ride in a carriage and have twenty thou- sand a year is contrary to the laws of Nature," said their leader, and slapped his leg. " I could show you, if you would go with me to-night," said Lord Ashley, " people who would say to you, ^ Purcell's Life of Manning, vol. i. p. 362. ^ Sidney Herbert : a Memoir, by Lord Stanmore, vol. i. pp. 97-98. CH. V DISTASTE FOR SOCIETY 8l that a man should go in broadcloth and wear a shirt-pin (pointing to the Chartist's shirt) is contrary to the laws of Nature." The Chartist was silent. " And it was the only thing I said," says Lord Ashley, " after arguing with them for live hours which made the least impression." Her acquaintance with Lord Ashley (afterwards Lord Shaftesbury) brought her in touch with Ragged School work. But society grew more and more distasteful to Miss Nightingale. She explained the reasons in a letter to her " Aunt Hannah." Why could she not smile and be gay, while yet biding her time and not forsaking her ultimate ideals ? It was, she said, because she " hated God to hear her laugh, as if she had not repented of her sin." There is something obviously morbid in such words, and they might be multiplied indefinitely, if there were good reason for doing so, from her letters, diaries, and note-books. The sins of which she most often convicted herself were " hypocrisy " and " vanity." She prayed to be delivered from " the desire of producing an effect." That was the " vanity " ; and it was " hypocrisy," because she was playing a part, responding to friends' conception of her, though all the while her heart was really set on other things, and her true life was being lived elsewhere. The morbidness was a symptom of a mind at war with its surroundings. Then again the kind "Aunt " reminded her, in the spirit of George Herbert, that anything and everything may be done " to the glory of God." But Miss Nightingale at this time was deep in the study of political economy ; and " can it be to the glory of God," she asked, " when there is so much misery among the poor, which we might be curing instead of living in luxury ? " In the autumn of 1848 an opportunity occurred which promised the realization of the dearest wish of her heart, but once more she was doomed to disappointment. Her mother and sister had been advised to go to Carlsbad for the cure. M. and Madame Mohl were to be at Frankfurt, and they were all to meet in that city. Frankfurt is near VOL. I G 82 PROJECTED VISIT TO KAISERSWERTH pt. i to Kaiserswerth, and Florence was to be allowed to go there. But at the very moment disturbances broke out in Frank- furt, and the whole plan was abandoned. " I am not going to consign to paper for your benefit," she wrote to Madame Mohl (October 1848), " all the cursings and swearings which relieved my disappointed feelings ; for oh ! what a plan of plans I had made out for myself ! All that I most wanted to do at Kaiserswerth, Brussels, and Co., lay for the first time within reach of my mouth, and the ripe plum has dropped." Florence accompanied her mother to the cure at Malvern instead, where, with many prayers for humility under the will of God, she lived for several weeks upon the dry and bitter fruit of disappointment. During the winter of 1848-49 Miss Nightingale saw something of M. Guizot and his family. The Minister had escaped to London after the fall of Louis Philippe, and was living in a modest house in Brompton. He found in Miss Nightingale " a brave and sympathetic soul, for whom great thoughts and great devotions had a serious attraction." ^ During the next year she found some congenial work in London. She inspected hospitals. She worked in Ragged Schools. She spoke of her " little thieves at Westminster " as her " greatest joy in London." But these unconventional attractions of the London season set her all the more against the life of country houses. " Ought not one's externals," she wrote in her diary (July 2, 1849), " ^0 be as nearly as possible an incarnation of what life really is ? Life is not a green pasture and a still water, as our homes make it. Life is to some a forty days' fasting, moral or physical, in the wilderness ; to some it is a fainting under the carrying of the crop ; to some it is a crucifixion ; to all, a struggle for truth, for safety. Life is seen in a much truer form in London than in the country. In an English country place everything that is painful is so carefully removed out of sight, behind those fine trees, to a village three miles off. In London, at all events if you open your eyes, you cannot help seeing in the next street that life is not as it has been made to you. You cannot get out of a carriage at a party ^ See the " Lettre de M. Guizot " prefixed to the French translation of Notes on Nursing (1862). CH. V DISAPPOINTMENT AGAIN 83 without seeing what is in the faces making the lane on either side, and without feehng tempted to rush back and say, ' Those are my brothers and sisters.' " She longed to rush back, to be able to go out freely into the slums, to comfort some old woman who was dying unattended, or rescue some child who was going astray untaught. But the proprieties prevented. " It would never do," she was told, "for a young woman in her station in life to go out in London without a servant." In the autumn of 1849 ^^e distraction of another foreign tour was offered. Her parents and her sister hoped once more that Florence would return a different and a more comfortable woman. Those with whom we are cast into the nearest intimacy sometimes understand us least. CHAPTER VI FOREIGN TRAVEL : EGYPT AND GREECE ( I 849-1 850) When o'er the world we range 'Tis but our climate, not our mind, we change. Horace. In the autumn of 1849 ^^r. and Mrs. Bracebridge, who were to spend some months in the East, again proposed that Miss Nightingale should travel with them, and again the offer was gladly accepted. Her sister was delighted. The expedition to Rome had not done what was hoped, but here was a second chance. The sister reported to her friends that " Flo had taken tea with the Bunsens to receive the dernier mot on Eg5^tology," and that she was going out " laden with learned books." Perhaps Florence would become absorbed in such studies, and adopt a life of grace- fully learned leisure. The literary temptation did, it is true, assail Florence, but she put it behind her. The party started in October, bound for Egypt, where the winter was to be spent. Thence they were to proceed to Athens, where Mr. Bracebridge had property. The return journey in the summer of 1850 was to be made through Germany, and Kaiserswerth was to be visited. Florence, we may surmise, looked forward most to the last stage in the journey. On November 18 the travellers landed at Alexandria. On the 27th they reached Cairo. On December 4 they started in a dahabiah for the Nile voyage. The boat was christened in honour of Florence's sister. 84 CH. VI TOUR IN EGYPT : 1849-50 85 " My work," she wrote, " is making the pennant, blue bunting with swallow tail, a Latin red cross upon it, and IIAPQENOIIH in white tape. It has taken all my tape, and a vast amount of stitches, but it will be the finest pennant on the river, and my petticoats will joyfully acknowledge the tribute to sisterly affection, for sisterly affection in tape in Lower Egypt, let me observe, is worth having." They went up the river as far as Ipsambul (Abu-Simbel), a little below Wady Halfy ; on the return journey they spent several days at Thebes. The letters which Florence sent home show that Egypt appealed strongly to her imagination. What struck her most was the solemnity of the country. " Nothing ever laughs or plays. Everything is grown up and grown old." The letters are full too of Egyptology ; for she had made tables of dynasties, copied plans of temples, and analysed the leading ideas in Egyptian mythology as expounded by the best writers of the time : — Abu-Simbel, January ly [1850]. ... I passed through other halls, till at last I found myself in a chamber in the rock, where sat, in the silence of an eternal night, four figures against the further end. I could see nothing more ; yet I did not feel afraid as I did at Karnak, though I was quite alone in these subterranean halls ; for the sublime expression of that judge of the dead had looked down on me, the incarnation of the goodness of the deity, as Osiris is ; and I thought how beautiful the idea which placed him in the foremost hall, and then led the worshipper gradually on to the more awful attributes of the deity ; for here, as I could dimly see through the darkness, sat the creative power of the mind — Neph, " the intellect " ; Amun, " the concealed god " ; Phthah, " the creator of the visible world " ; and Ra, " the sustainer," Ra, " the sun " to whom the temple is dedicated. ... I turned to go out, and saw at the further end the golden sand ghttering in the sunshine outside the top of the door ; and the long sand-hill, sloping down from it to the feet of the innermost Osirides, which are left quite free, all but their pedestals, looked Hke the waves of time, gradually flowing in and covering up these imperishable genii, who have seen three thousand years pass over their heads and heed them not. In the holiest place, there where no sound ever reaches, it is as if you felt the sensible progress of time, not by the tick of a clock, as we measure time, but by some spiritual pulse which marks to you its onward march, not by 86 THE VALLEY OF THE KINGS pt. i its second, nor its minute, nor its hour-hand, but by its century hand, I thought of the worshippers of three thousand years ago ; how they by this time have reached the goal of spiritual ambition, have brought all their thoughts to serve God or the ideal of goodness ; how we stand there with the same goal before us, only as distant as the star, which, a httle later, I saw rising exactly over that same sand-hill in the centre of the top of the doorway, but as sure and fixed ; how to them all other thoughts are now as nothing, and the ideal we all pursue of happiness is won ; not because they have not probably sufferings, like ours, but because they no longer suggest any other thought but of doing God's will, which is happiness. I thought, too, three thousand years hence, we might perhaps have attained — and others would stand here, and still those old gods would be sitting in the eternal twihght. . . . Thebes, February lo [1850]. . . . The Valley of the Kings seems, though within a mile of Thebes, as if one had arrived at the mountains of Kaf, beyond which are only " creatures un- known to any but God," — so deep are the ravines, so high and blue the sky, so absolutely solitary and unearthly, so utterly uninhabitable the place. One look at that valley would give you more idea of the supernatural, the gate of Hades, than all the descriptions, sacred or profane. What a moment it is, the entering that valley, where in those rocky caverns, the vastness and the gloomy darkness of which are equally awful, the kings of the earth lie, each in his huge sarcophagus, with the bodies of his chiefs, each in their chamber, about him ; and where, about this time, they are to return, to find their bodies and resume their abode on earth, — if purified by their three thousand years of probation, in a higher and better state ; if degraded, in a lower. I thought I met them at every turn in those long subterraneous galleries, — saw their shades rising from their shattered sarcophagi, and advancing once more towards the light of day, which shone hke a star, so distant and so faint, at the end of that opening ; the dead were stirred up, the chief ones of the earth. . , . Well, these Pharaohs are perhaps now here, again in the body, their three thousand years having just elapsed to some of them, — that is, if they have philosophized sincerely, or, together with philosophy, have " loved beautiful forms." . . . And if I were a Pharaoh now, I would choose the Arab form, and come back to help these poor people ; and I am going to-morrow to a tomb of Rameses, B.C. 1150, to meet him and tell him so. . . . It was no wonder that Miss Nightingale pitied the poor cH.vi " TO HELP THESE POOR PEOPLE " 87 people ; for the Egypt in which she travelled was as Mehemet Ali, the Lion of the Levant, had left it. She saw girls sold in the open slave market " at from £2 to £9 a head." She heard how justice was sold to the highest bidder ; and " everybody," she noted, " seems to bastinado everybody else." " Every man," she noted further, " is a conscript for the army, and mothers put out their children's right eye to save them from conscription, till Mehemet Ali, who was too clever for them, had a one-eyed regiment, who carried the musket on the left shoulder." Miss Nightingale was fond of escaping from the dahabiah in order to wander about the desert, " poking my own nose," as she wrote home, " into all the villages," and seeing for herself how " these poor people " lived. " They call me ' the wild ass of the wilderness, snufhng up the wind,' because I am so fond of getting away." Egyptian impressions stayed long in her memory, and they recurred to her thirty years later in con- nection with her Indian studies.^ As on her earlier visit to Rome, so now in Egypt she utilized all such opportunities as came in her way for studying the work of religious Sister- hoods. At Alexandria she passed her days, she wrote, " much to my satisfaction, as I had travelled with two Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul from Paris to Auxerre, who gave me an introduction to the Sisters here ; and I have spent a great deal of time with them in their beautiful schools and Misericorde. There are only 19 of them, but they seem to do the work of 90." II In April 1850 Miss Nightingale went with her friends to Athens. Their house was in Eucharis Street, and Florence " slept in the library, which opens on to a terrace looking ^ E.g. in an article in Good Words, August 1879 : " Whoever in the glorious light of an Egyptian sunset — where all glows with colour, not like that of birds and flowers, but like transparent emeralds and sapphires and rubies and amethysts, the gold and jewels and precious stones of the Revelations — has seen the herds wending their way home on the plain of Thebes by the colossal pair of sitting statues, followed by the stately woman in her one draped garment, plying her distafE, a naked, lovely little brown child riding on her shoulder, and another on a buffalo, can conjure up something of the ideal of the ryot's family life in India." 88 REPUBLICAN ARCHITECTURE pt. i upon the back of the AcropoHs." She had Httle taste for the topographical research and nice distinctions between different masters of sculpture which absorb the interest of many modern travellers and students. She was interested in broader speculations. The soul of a people, as expressed in their art, was the object to which she directed her observa- tion, and around which she loved to let her imagination play. In her note-books and letters she discusses the spiritual conceptions embodied in the worship of the several Greek gods ; she traces the symbols of Greek mythology to their sources in Greek scenery ; she pictures the genius of Aes- chylus (her favourite tragedian, preferred by her even to Shakespeare) or of Sophocles developing in relation to local conditions and surroundings. Of the statues, the pensive beauty of the sepulchral bas-reliefs most arrested her atten- tion ; and in architecture, she loved most the Doric, for its severity, its simplicity, its perfection of proportion, its image of the ideal republic : — Only a republican could have conceived it, and it is sin for any other government to imitate it. Look at each column — man, I mean — rearing its noble head ; yet none has a separate base. Each man stands upon the common base of his country. Look at the simplicity of the fluting of the capital. No man thinks of his own adornment, but only of the glory of the whole. The fluting does not look like its ornament, but its drapery. I do love the old Doric as if it was a person. Then comes the Ionic, light and elegant and airy, it is true, like the Attic wit, but somewhat luscious to the taste ; it soon palls ; the fluting is too laboured, too semicircular, like the people sitting in a semi- circle to hear the wit of Aristophanes ; it does not look as if it belonged to the column ; and that ridge between the flutes, what is it doing there ? It looks like the interval while the next inter- locutor is thinking of a repartee. Then that rich beading round the base, like one of Euripides' choruses which have nothing to do with the piece. Give me the Ionic to amuse me, but the Doric to interest me. The Corinthian is like the worship of Dionysus, like the illustration of Nature by Art — a bad conjunction, I think, which in any other hands would become Art run mad, but modified by the exquisite artistic perceptions of the Greeks is exquisitely beautiful, but it is not architecture. The Doric, the Ionic, and the Corinthian are the ethical, the poetical, and the aesthetic views of Ufe. But look at the workmanship of these things. How mathematically exact it is — the very poetry of number. CH. VI THE SCENERY OF GREECE 89 It was characteristic of the philosophical bent of her mind that she sought to refer the charm of the scenery to some general law : — Athens, June 8. I have been taking some lovely rides with Mr. Hill on Hymettus, along the Daphne road, and to Kara. How lovely the scenery is, would be difficult to describe, and why it is so lovely. I begin to think that it is the proportion, and that there must be proportion in the things of Nature as of Art. I am talking nonsense, I believe, but nobody minds me, you know. In the valleys of Switzerland the height is too great for the width, and it looks like a bottle. In the valleys of Egypt the width is too great for the height, and it looks like a tray. For this reason clouds are provided in Switzerland and Scotland ; the height would become intolerably out of proportion unless it were covered in at the top. For this reason clear sky is in Egjrpt, or you would feel in a shelf. But here, where the clear sky is meant, they say, to be perpetual (tho' I cannot say I have seen much of it since I came), the proportion observed has been perfect, the exact curve is always there, the exact slope which you want ; and if a line were to change its place, you feel the effect would be spoilt. You feel towards it as to an archi- tectural building. I believe that in this lies the great peculiarity of the Athenian views. Otherwise, for colouring, I must de- clare I have seen nothing like the evenings of the Campagna. Of the Parthenon by moonlight she wrote that it was " impossible that earth or heaven could produce anything more beautiful." In other letters she dwells on the beauty of the view from Lycabettus, and the glory of the sunset from Hymettus. One day upon the Acropolis she found some boys with a baby owl that had just fallen from its nest in the Parthenon. She bought it from them and kept it. It used to travel in her pocket, and lived at Embley. Ill Public affairs in Greece interested her also. She had arrived in Greek waters at the height of the " Pacifico crisis." There had been a rupture between England and Greece, which threatened also the relations between England and France, and which convulsed political parties at West- minster, over the claims of Mr. Finlay, the historian of modern Greece, and Don Pacifico, a native of Gibraltar. 90 GREEK POLITICS : 1850 pt. i Lord Palmerston had ordered the Mediterranean Fleet to the Peiraeus to enforce the British claims, and Miss Nightin- gale was sitting beside Mr. Wyse, the British Minister at Athens, at dinner on board H.M.S. Howe, when the sub- mission of the Greek Government was brought to him. Her home letters throw much light on the ins and outs of this affair, which, however, is now only remembered as the occasion of Lord Palmerston's vindication in the House of Commons with its famous peroration about Civis Romanus sum. Miss Nightingale now, as earlier, was a strong Palmerstonian. " The friends of Broadlands," she wrote to her parents, " need never have been less uneasy for his reputation " ; and if parliamentary success be a sufficient test, she was entirely right. She found herself again in the thick of political discussion on leaving Greek waters. Her party sailed from Athens on June 17, and went to Trieste by Corfu — " that fairy island," she wrote, " where every flower grows twice as big as it does anywhere else, and where no frost can touch the olive and the pomegranate." She and her parents were acquainted with Sir Henry Ward, then Lord High Commissioner of the Ionian Islands. Sir Henry, who had been an active Liberal at home, had felt himself obliged to adopt sternly repressive measures in the islands. Miss Nightingale was opposed to his policy, as also to the British occupation. He invited her and her friends to the Palace. She went to proffer excuses. " He came out, said that I had often called him ' Tyrant,' and took me in his arms like a father, and stood over me in the character of Tyrant (he said) till I had written a letter compelling them all to come, which he then sealed and I sent. So the whole posse comitatus of us spent the day there, they sending the carriage for us, and I am really glad to have seen what is my idea of Eastern luxury." The tyrant placed his accuser next to him at dinner, deplored his " false position," and so forth, and they made some sort of peace ; though not perhaps till Miss Nightingale had sought to bring him to a conviction of sin for his executions and arbitrary arrests, for she was armed, as her letters show, now as ever, with all the facts and figures marshalled in Blue-book precision. CH. VI AMERICAN MISSIONARIES AT ATHENS 91 IV Her mind was interested in all these things, but her heart was elsewhere. " WTierever thou art," said a famous statesman, " it is with the poor that thou should'st live." It was so with Florence Nightingale's inmost thoughts. Her greatest pleasure in Athens was found in the society of the American missionaries, Mr. and Mrs. Hill, who conducted a school and orphanage. Of Mrs. Hill she wrote, " From heaven she comes, in heaven she lives." In charge of the mission school was a Greek refugee from Crete, Elizabeth Kontaxaki, and with her too Florence Nightingale formed a warm friendship. Elizabeth had lived an adventurous life before she found security at Athens. Her father had fallen by a Turkish bullet. Her mother had made an heroic escape from a Turkish captor, and the first years of the child's life were spent in the fastnesses of Mount Ida. " Alas," wrote Miss Nightingale, " how worthless my hfe seems to me by the side of these women." A mood of great dejection appears in her diary of this time, to which an attack of low-fever no doubt contributed. She could not find satisfaction in the interests of foreign travel. She was tortured by unsatisfied longings which could find outlet only in a world of dreams. An entry in her diary for June 7 is in these words : " Grotto of the Eumenides. Will this Fury go on increasing till by degrees my mind is more and more taken off the outer world with all its claims, and I am no longer able to command my attention at all ? " Miss Nightingale and her friends landed at Trieste at the end of June, and thence made their way to Dresden and Berlin. The pictures which most impressed her were Raphael's " Sistine Madonna " and the " Reading Mag- dalen," then attributed to Correggio. A year later her mother and sister were at Dresden, and she enjoined them, above all things, to see " the Magdalen, the queen of pic- tures." " How I feel that picture now," she wrote to them (August 26, 1851), " dark wood behind, sharp stones in front, nothing to look back upon, nothing to look forward to, clinging to the present as she does to the book, which 92 FIRST VISIT TO KAISERSWERTH pt. i beams bright light upon me. Oh what a history that picture contains in its httle canvass ; and how well it hangs near that glorious Sistine Virgin. All that woman might be, all that she will be, near what she is ; for it is not a Magdalen, in the common sense of the word, or rather it is in the common sense of what woman commonly is — not what we mean by a Magdalen." At Dresden Miss Nightin- gale was still in much dejection. " I have never felt so bad," she wrote (July 7) ; " the habit of living not in the present but in a future of dreams is gradually spreading over my whole existence. It is rapidly approaching the state of madness when dreams become realities." And now when the goal of Kaiserswerth was near, she felt almost unmanned ; almost inclined to turn back and follow another path. " It seemed to me now (July 10) as if quiet, with somebody to look for my coming back, was all I wanted." But this was only a moment of passing weakness. At Berlin her spirits revived ; for her vital interests were satisfied, and she spent some days in inspecting the hospitals and other benevolent institutions. On July 31 she reached Kaiserswerth. " I could hardly believe I was there," she wrote in her diary. " With the feeling with which a pilgrim first looks on the Kedron, I saw the Rhine, dearer to me than the Nile." She stayed a fortnight with the Pastor and his wife and the Deaconesses, studying their institutions. " Left Kaiserswerth," says the diary (August 13), " feeling so brave as if nothing could ever vex me again." ^ She rejoined her friends at Diisseldorf. " They staid at Ghent actually for me to finish my MS." (August 17). " Finished my MS. They read it. Mr. Bracebridge corrected it and sent it off " (August 19). Next day they returned to Eng- ^ In the Album of the Pastor's eldest daughter, Miss Nightingale left this inscription : — " Vier Dinge, Gott, habe ich dir zu bieten, Die sich in all deinen Schatzkammern nicht finden : Meine Nichtigkeit, meine traurige Armut, Meine verderbliche Siinde, meine ernste Reue. Nimm diese Gaben an und nimm den Geber hin. Kaiserswerth, den 13 August 1850. Fl. N., die mit iiberfliezendem Herzen sich immer der Giite all ihrer Freunde in heben Kaiserswerth erinnern wird. Ich bin ein Gast gewesen, und ihr habt mir beherbergt " Eine Heldin unter Helden, 191 2, p. 45). CH. VI THE LITERARY TEMPTATION 93 land. The manuscript was of the pamphlet describing " The Institution of Kaiserswerth on the Rhine," which was issued anonymously soon after Miss Nightingale's return.^ Some notice of the pamphlet will be found in a later chapter in connection with her longer sojourn at Kaisers- werth in 185 1. It was printed by the inmates of the Ragged School at Westminster in which she was interested. She described in it the work of the Deaconesses, and ended with an appeal to Englishwomen to go and do likewise. The fire burnt within her, and she returned home more than ever resolved to consecrate her life to the service of the sick and sorrowful. Foreign travel, it will thus be seen, had worked no such cure, had created no such diversion, as her family desired. Their hope, even their expectation, was not unreasonable. Florence Nightingale was a woman of learning, and her foreign travels had stimulated her alike to research and to imaginative thought. At home, too, during all the years of restless and unsatisfied yearning for some other life, she had been a diligent reader and student. She had a real gift for literary expression, as her letters may already have indicated, and as her later writings were to prove more decisively. She had, moreover, the instinct for self-expres- sion. She was a constant letter- writer and note-taker. She communed with herself not only in speechless thought, but in written memoranda. Had another impulse not been stronger within her, she might easily have become a literary woman of some distinction. But though she was fond of writing for her own satisfaction, she had a profound distrust of it as a substitute for action. Like one of George Eliot's heroines, " she did not want to deck herself with knowledge — to wear it loose from the nerves and blood that fed her action." " You ask me," she had written to Miss Clarke in 1844, " why I do not write something. I think what is not of the first class had better not exist at all ; and besides I had so much rather live than write ; writing is only a sup- plement for living. Would you have one go away and ^ Bibliography A, No. i. 94 WRITING AND DOING pt.i ' give utterance to one's feelings ' in a poem to appear (price 2 guineas) in the Belle Assemblee ? ' I think one's feehngs waste themselves in words ; they ought all to be distilled r I into actions, and into actions which bring results. Do you I think a babe would ever learn to walk if it were to talk about its living in such ' strange times/ ' I must learn to use my legs,' and so on ? Or do you think anybody ever did any- thing, who did not go to it with a directness of purpose, which prevented him from frittering away his impressions in words ? " She was of Ibsen's persuasion : — What is Life ? a fighting In heart and in brain with trolls. Poetry ? that means writing Doomsday-accounts of our souls. ^ She held in great suspicion and dislike what she called the " artist-like way of looking upon life." It reduces all religions, she said, and most inward and spiritual feelings " into a sort of magic-lantern, with which to make play for the amusement of the company." Her mother used to praise her " beautiful letters," was proud of the " European reputation " she had won among learned men, and wanted to know why she could not be happy in cultivating at home the gifts which God had given her. To Florence Nightingale these things were not gifts to be cultivated, but rather temptations to be subdued. She read with some attention in 1846 a book called Passages from the Life of a Daughter at Home, a religious work containing counsels of submission for women dissatisfied with their home life. " Piling up miscellaneous instruction for oneself," she wrote in one place in the margin ; " the most unsatisfactory of all pur- suits ! " She strove to say to God, as she wrote in another place, " Behold the handmaid of the Lord ! not Behold the handmaid of correspondence, or of music, or of meta- physics! " "That power of always writing a good letter whenever one likes," she said in one of her pages of self- examination, "is a great temptation " — a temptation, if such it be, to which, it must be confessed, she continually succumbed. But she wished to win no repute from her fall. In 1854 her sister printed the " beautiful letters " from ^ Lyrics and Poems from Ibsen, translated by F. E. Garrett. cH.vi " DEVOTION TO THE SICK " 95 Egypt,^ and issued a few copies for private circulation. Florence was not pleased, but acquiesced, and corrected the proofs. Any dreams, then, which she may have harboured of literary distinction, she had put resolutely away from her, " Oh God," she had written in her diary at Cairo, " thou puttest into my heart this great desire to devote myself to the sick and sorrowful. I offer it to thee. Do with it what is for thy service." But there was still one other temptation to be subdued. ^ Bibliography A, No. 2. CHAPTER VII THE SINGLE LIFE The craving for sympathy, which exists between two who are to form one indivisible and perfect whole, is in most cases between man and woman, in some between man and God. This the Roman Cathohcs have under- stood and expressed under the simile, Christ the bridegroom, the Nun married to Him, the Monk married to the Church ; or as St. Francis to poverty, or as St. Ignatius Loyola to the divine mistress of his thoughts, the Virgin. This sort of tie between man and God seems alone able to fill the want of the other, the permanent exclusive tie between the one man and the one woman. — Florence Nightingale : Suggestions for Thought. " I HAD three paths among which to choose," wrote Miss Nightingale in a diary of 1850 : "I might have been a Hterary woman, or a married woman, or a Hospital Sister." We have seen how she turned away from the first path. Why did she reject the second ? " Our dear Flo," wrote Mrs. Bracebridge to Miss Clarke in 1844, " has just recovered from a severe cold, but I hear nothing of what I long for, i.e. some noble-hearted, true man, one who can love her as she deserves to be loved, prepared to take her to a house of her own." And three years later another friend, Fanny Allen, in describing a visit to Embley, said of Florence : " What a wife she would make for a man worthy of her ! but I am not sure I yet know the mate fit for her." The two Nightingale girls, she surmised, would experience a " difficulty in finding any one they would like well enough to forsake such a home." ^ In the case of Florence, the position was ill understood by outsiders. To her the home was not a happy garden which she would be ^ A Century of Family Letters, vol. ii. pp. 106, 107. 96 CH. VII A CRITICISM OF " MIDDLEMARCH " 97 very reluctant to forsake, but rather a gilded cage from which she eagerly sought a way of escape. To us who have the means of knowing her inmost thoughts and feelings, the question thus presents itself in another light than that in which it appeared to her friends at the time. She craved for a larger, fuller life than she could find at home. Why could she not, or why did she not, seek it in marriage ? It is love that sometimes " frees the imprisoned spirit," that enables it to find and to express itself. That Miss Nightin- gale remained single was not the result of lack of opportunity to marry. The reason is to be found elsewhere — in feelings, thoughts, and ideals, in reasoned convictions and aspira- tions, which, if I can present them aright, will illuminate her character and her career. In 1873 Miss Nightingale, like the rest of the world, was reading Middlemarch, and a paper which she wrote in that year contained some notice of George Eliot's heroine.^ " A novel of genius has appeared. Its writer once put before the world (in a work of fiction too), certainly the most living, probably the most historically truthful, presentment of the great Idealist, Savonarola of Florence. This author now can find no better outlet for the heroine — also an Idealist — because she cannot be a ' St. Teresa ' or an ' Anti- gone,' than to marry an elderly sort of literary impostor, and, quick after him, his relation, a baby sort of itinerant Cluricaune (see Irish Fairies) or inferior Faun (see Haw- thorne's matchless Transformation). Yet close at hand, in actual life, was a woman — an Idealist too — and if we mistake not, a connection of the author's, who has managed to make her ideal very real indeed. By taking charge of blocks of buildings in poorest London, while making herself the rent- collector, she found work for those who could not find work for themselves ; she organized a system of visitors ; . . . she brought sympathy and education to bear from individual to individual, ... so that one might be tempted to say, ' Were there one such woman with power to direct the flow of volunteer help, nearly everywhere running to waste, in every street of London's East End, almost might the East End be persuaded to become Christian.' Could not the ^ Fraser's Magazine, May 1873. VOL. I H 98 FANCY FREE px.i heroine, the ' sweet sad enthusiast,' have been set to some such work as this ? Indeed it is past telling the mischief that is done in thus putting down youthful ideals. There are not too many to begin with. There are few indeed to end with — even without such a gratuitous impulse as this to end them." In this passage, as in much that Florence Nightingale wrote, there is an autobiographical note. She did not marry because she held fast to an ideal — an ideal nearer to that of Octavia Hill than to that of Dorothea Brooke. II For two or three years Florence Nightingale was in much trouble of mind from an attachment which one of her cousins had formed for her. In no case would she have thought it right to marry him. " Accident or relationship," she wrote some years later,^ " throw people together in their childhood, and acquaintance has grown up naturally and unconsciously. Accordingly in novels it is generally cousins who marry ; and now it seems the only natural thing, the only possible way of making an intimacy. And yet we know that inter- marriage between relations is in direct contravention of the laws of nature for the well-being of the race." It was sup- posed by some of the family circle at the time that this was the only objection to an engagement ; but there were others. Florence was in no mood, then or afterwards, to marry for the sake of marrying. Marriage, she had written to Miss Clarke (p. 66), was not an absolute blessing ; and though she liked her cousin, she was in no sense in love with him. She felt relief, intense and unmixed, as she recorded in her private meditations, when she learnt that the young man had at last forgotten her. But though this episode left her heart-whole, it had a great and painful influence upon her mind. " Cleanse all my love from the desire of creating an interest in another's heart " is the burden of many of her meditations. Among other attachments of which Florence Nightingale was the object, there was one which had a deeper effect and called for a more difficult and searching choice in life. ^ Suggestions for Thought, vol. ii. p. 401. cH.vii A REASONED REFUSAL 99 She was asked in marriage by one who continued for some years to press his suit. It was a proposal which seemed to those about her to promise every happiness. The match would by all have been deemed suitable, and by many might have been called brilliant. And Florence herself was strongly drawn to her admirer. She had not come to this state of mind in hasty inclination. She was on her guard against any such temptation. Many years before, in a letter to her " brother Jonathan," as she called Miss Hilary Bonham Carter, she had written : — It strikes me that in all the most ««worldly poetry (both prose and verse) la passion qu'on appelle inclination is treated in a very extraordinary way. When one finds a comparative stranger becoming all of a sudden more essential to one than one's family (via flattery, in general, of one sort or another), one is content with saying to oneself, " Oh ! that's love," instead of saying, " How unjust and how blind this feeling is." I wonder whether if people were to examine— for, as Socrates says, the life unexamined is not a living life — they would not find that (whatever it may ripen to afterwards) this feeling at first is generally begun by vanity or jealousy or self-love ; and that what is very much to be guarded against, instead of submitted to, is the stranger's admiration (and I suppose everybody has been susceptible at one time of their lives) having more effect upon one than one's own family's. In this case, however, the stranger's admiration had stood the test. She felt drawn to him, not by vanity or self-love ; but because she admired his talents, and because the more she saw of him the greater pleasure did she find in his society. She leaned more and more upon his sympathy. Yet when the proposal first came, she refused it ; and when it was renewed, she persisted. Then, it may be said, she cannot have been " in love " with him. And in one sense that is, I suppose, quite true ; for love, as the poets tell us, does not reason, and Florence Nightingale reasoned deeply over her case. But it is certain that she felt at least as much affection as suffices to make half the marriages in the world. She turned away from a path to which she was strongly drawn in order to pursue her Ideal. In one of the many pages of autobiographical notes which she preserved in relation to this episode in her life. 100 THE THREE-FOLD NATURE pt. i Miss Nightingale thus explained her refusal to marry, i " I k I have an intellectual nature which requires satisfaction, and I that would find it in him. I have a passional nature which requires satisfaction, and that would find it in him. I have a moral, an active nature which requires satisfaction, and that would not find it in his life. I can hardly find satis- faction for any of my natures. Sometimes I think that I will satisfy my passional nature at all events, because that will at least secure me from the evil of dreaming. But would it ? I could be satisfied to spend a life with him combining our different powers in some great object. I could not satisfy this nature by spending a life with him in making society and arranging domestic things. ... To be nailed to a continuation and exaggeration of my present life, without hope of another, would be intolerable to me. Voluntarily to put it out of my power ever to be able to seize the chance of forming for myself a true and rich life would seem to me like suicide." Florence Nightingale was no vestal ascetic. A true and perfect marriage was, she thought, the perfect state. "Marry- ing a man of high and good purpose, and following out that purpose with him is the happiest "lot. " The highest, the only true love, is when two persons, a man and a woman, who have an attraction for one another, unite together in some true purpose for mankind and God." ^ The thought of God in instituting marriage was " that these two, when the right two are united, shall throw themselves fearlessly into the universe, and do its work, secure of companionship and sympathy." Miss Nightingale recognized also that for many women marriage, even though it may fall short of this ideal state, is the proper lot in life. But she held, on the other hand, that there are some women who may be marked out for single life. " I don't agree at all (she wrote in 1846) that a woman has no reason (if she does not care for any one else) for not marrying a good man who asks her, and I don't think Providence does either. I think He has as clearly marked out some to be single women as He has others to be wives, and has organized them accordingly for their vocation, I think some have every reason for not ^ Suggestions for Thought, vol. ii. pp. 229, 231. CH. VII THE CHOICE OF THE SINGLE LIFE loi marrying, and that for these it is much better to educate . the children who are aheady in the world and can't be got out of it, than to bring more into it. The Primitive Church clearly thought so too, and provided accordingly ; and though no doubt the Primitive Church was in many matters an old woman, yet I think the experience of ages has proved her right in this." And again : " Ours is a system of Chris- tianity without the Cross " ; the single life was the life of Christ. " Has Heaven bestowed everlasting souls on men, and sent them upon earth for no better purpose than to marry and be given in marriage ? True, there is in this world much more waiting to be done ; but is it the man leading a secular life who will do it ? He is apt to see nothing beyond himself and the fair creature he has chosen for his bride." And, as with men, so with women. There are women of intellectual or actively moral natures for whom marriage (unless it realizes the perfect ideal) means the sacrifice of their higher capacities to the satisfaction of their lower. " Death," she wrote (again in a note-book of 1846), " is often the gateway to the Garden where we shall no longer hunger and thirst after real satisfaction. Marriage, on the contrary, is often an initiation into the meaning of that inexorable word Never ; which does not deprive us, it is true, of what ' at their festivals the idle and inconsiderate call life,' but which brings in reality the end of our lives, and the chill of death with it," In her own case. Miss Nightingale was conscious of capacities within her for " high purposes for mankind and for God." She could not feel sure that the marriage which was offered to her would enable her to employ those capaci- ties to their best and fullest power. And so she sacrificed her "passional" nature to her moral ideal. " I am 30,". she wrote on her birthday in her diary of 1850 ; " the age at which Christ began His mission. Now no more childish things, no more vain things, no more love, no more marriage. Now, Lord, let me only think of Thy will." And amongst her sayings in another book, I find this : " Strong passions to teach the secrets of the human heart, and a strong will -^ to hold them in subjection, these are the keys of the king- dom in this world and the next." Florence Nightingale 102 WEDDED TO THE IDEAL pt.i turned away from marriage in order that she might remain entirely free to fulfil her vocation. Ill It was not a sacrifice which cost her little. If, as some may hold, she was not in love, yet she confessed to herself many of a lover's pangs, and there were moments when, as she met her admirer again, or as she thought of him, she was half inclined to repent of her choice of the single life. And the sacrifice, moreover, was of an immediate satisfaction to an ideal which after all she might never be able to realize. The legends of the saints tell of many virgins and martyrs who have crucified the flesh and sacrificed worldly happiness for the love of Christ. But when the sacrifice was made, the love which seemed to them far better was already theirs. In the ears of St. Agnes the Divine Voice had sounded with sweet assurance, and she had tasted of the milk and honey of His lips. St. Dorothea was already espoused in a garden where celestial fruits and roses that never fade surrounded her. And to Florence Nightingale also happiness was to be given, filling aU her life for some years, so that she " sought no better heaven " ; but at the time when she made her choice, and renounced all else to follow her ideal, the way before her was still dark and uncertain. She was conscious of a call, but she had no assurance of appointed work. To have entered into a marriage which gave no sure promise of her ideal, would have been, she felt, the suicide of a soul ; yet, when she was called to choose between the two paths, her present life was starvation. Perhaps it was the price which she had paid for her ideal that led to what, in later years, some considered a certain hardness in her. When once a woman had devoted her life to the work of nursing, Miss Nightingale had little sympathy with any turning back. She seemed sometimes in such cases to regard marriage as the unpardonable sin. But another and a loftier train of thought was prompted by her experience. At the end of one of her meditations upon marriage, and her refusal of it, I find these significant words : " I must strive after a better life for woman." She CH. vii NEW SPHERES FOR WOMEN 103 did not mean a better life than marriage ; she meant also a life that should make the conditions of marriage better. In the world in which she lived, daughters, she wrote, " can only have a choice among those people whom their parents like, and who like their parents well enough to come to their house." One may doubt whether in the mid- Victorian or in any age, young men paid calls only because they liked the parents ; but unquestionably restriction in the employ- ments of women involves also limitation in the opportunities for choice in marriage. And at the same time the lack of interest and variety in the lives of girls at home makes many of them inclined to marriage as a mere means of escape. By throwing open new spheres of usefulness to^ women. Miss Nightingale hoped at one and the same time \ y^ to improve the lot of those who were marked out to be wives, and to find satisfaction for those marked out for the single life. CHAPTER VIII APPRENTICESHIP AT KAISERSWERTH (1851) The only happiness a brave man ever troubled himself with asking much about was, happiness enough to get his work done. It is, after all, the one unhappiness of a man, that he cannot work ; that he cannot get his destiny as a man fulfilled. — Carlyle. Foreign travel had, as we have seen, in no way changed Florence Nightingale's resolve to devote herself to a life of nursing. She had turned away deliberately from marriage, and was bent upon finding a new field of usefulness for unmarried women. But ways and means of doing this were not yet apparent. She had no independent fortune of her own. She returned to a family circle which understood her cravings no better than before. The call of domestic duties was the same as before. There were aunts and a grandmother to be visited, company at home to be enter- tained, a sister to be humoured, a father and mother to be pleased. But she could not please them, because she herself could find no pleasure in their Hfe. She did not say to herself that she was better than they. Still less did she thank God that she was not as they were. But she felt with piteous keenness the gulf that separated her alike from her parents and from her sister. She loved her father, and admired his good impulses and amiable character. But she per- ceived that his contentment in a life of busy idleness made him constitutionally unable to enter fully into her state of mind. She loved her mother, and considered that she was, 104 en. vKi FLORENCE AND HER SISTER 105 within her range, a woman of genius. " She has the genius of order," she wrote in a character-sketch of her mother, " the genius to organize a parish, to form society. She has obtained by her own exertions the best society in England." What pained the daughter was the inabihty to please the mother. " When I feel her disappointment in me, it is as if I was becoming insane." She loved her sister also, and, I think, yet more tenderly. But as the sister once wrote : " The natures God has given us differ as widely as different races." Florence was deeply sensible of the attractive side of her sister's character. Lady Verney had indeed a most attractive mind ; she was very vivacious, inquiring, and highly gifted, both as an artist and as a writer. She was a perfect hostess, and her memory is pleasant to all who knew her. If she lacked some of her sister's stronger English characteristics, she had a light touch which Florence did not possess. And Florence felt the charm of all this. " No one less than I," she wrote, " wants her to do one single thing different from what she does. She wants no other religion, no other occupation, no other training than what she has. She has never had a difficulty except with me ; she knows nothing of struggle in her own unselfish nature." But for that very reason she could not sympathize with, because she could not understand, her sister's difficulties. In a passage which is doubtless autobiographical, Florence wrote : " Very few people can sympathise with each other in any pursuit or thought of any importance. If people do not give you thought for thought, receive yours, digest it, and give it back with the impression of their own character upon it, then give you one for you to do hkewise, it is best to know what one is about, and not to attempt more than kindly, cheerful outward intercourse. Some find amusement in the outward, do not suffer inwardly, because the attention is turned elsewhere." ^ Meanwhile Florence felt that everything she said or did was a subject of vexation to her sister, a disappointment to her mother, a worry to her father. " I have never known a happy time," she exclaimed to herself, " except at Rome and that fortnight at Kaiserswerth. It is not the unhappi- ^ Suggestions for Thought, vol. ii. pp. 236, 237. io6 A LIFE OF " STARVATION " pt.i ness I mind, it is not indeed ; but people can't be unhappy without making those about them so." She strove to attain happiness. She tried to submit her will to what her spiritual confidantes told her must be taken to be the will of God ; to trust that in His own good time He would make her vocation sure ; in such confidence to find relief, and to throw herself meanwhile into the round of immediate duties. But the more she struggled, the more she failed. She could not subdue the imperious longing to be up and doing which surged within her. " The thoughts and feelings that I have now," she wrote, " I can remember since I was six years old. It was not that I made them. A profession, a trade, a necessary occupation, something to fill and employ all my faculties, I have always felt essential to me, I have always longed for, consciously or not. During a middle part of my life, college education, acquirement, I longed for, but that was tem- porary. The first thought I can remember, and the last, was nursing work ; and in the absence of this, education work, but more the education of the bad than of the young. But for this I had had no education myself." Finding no outlet in active reality, she lived more than ever in a land of dreams. " Everything has been tried," she exclaimed to herself ; " foreign travel, kind friends, every- thing." And again, " My God ! what is to become of me ? " Eighteen months before she had resolved on a great effort to crucify her old self, " to break through the habits, entailed upon me by an idle life, of living, not in the present world of action, but in a future one of dreams. Since then nations have passed before me, but have brought no new life to me. In my 31st year I see nothing desirable but death." She was perishing, as she put it, for want of food ; and she could find no impulse to activity. Her habit of late rising grew upon her ; for what had she to wake for ? " Starvation does not lead a man to exertion, it only weakens him. O weary days, O evenings that seem never to end ! For how many long years, I have watched that drawing-room clock and thought it would never reach the ten ! And for 20 or 30 more years to do this ! " And again, " Oh, how I am to get through CH. vin A SPIRIT OF REVOLT 107 this day, to talk through all this day, is the thought of every morning. . . . This is the sting of death. Why do I wish to leave this world ? God knows I do not expect a heaven beyond, but that He would set me down in St. Giles's, at a Kaiserswerth, there to find my work and my salvation in my work." II Such cries from the heart, cries for the food for which she was hungering and which her parents could or would not let her take, filled many a sheet of Florence Nightingale's diaries, letters, and memoranda. " Mountains of diffi- culties," as she says in one place, were " piled up " around her. Looking forward to a New Year (1851) she could see nothing in front of her but the same unsatisfying routine. " The next three weeks," she said, in one of her written colloquies with herself, " you will have company ; then a fortnight alone ; then a few weeks of London, then Embley ; then perhaps go abroad ; then three months of company at Lea Hurst ; next the same round of Embley company." And then, with a humorous transition not infrequent in her musings, she asks, " But why can't you get up in the morning ? I have nothing I like so much as unconsciousness, but I will try." As the year advanced a more decided spirit of revolt begins to appear in her diaries. One of her per- plexities hitherto had been a doubt whether the " mountains of difficulties " were to be taken as occasions for submission to God's will, or whether they were piled up in order to try her patience and her resolve, and were to be surmounted by some initiative of her own. She now began to interpret God's will in the latter sense. " I must take some things," she wrote on Whitsunday (June 8, 1851), " as few as I can, to enable me to live. I must take them, they will not be given me ; take them in a true spirit of doing Thy will, not of snatching them for my own will. I must do without some things, as many as I can, which I could not have without causing more suffering than I am obliged to cause any way." She would cease looking for the sympathy and understanding of her mother and sister. " I have been so long treated as a child and have so long "allowed io8 SECOND VISIT TO KAISERSWERTH pt.i myself to be treated as a child." She would submit to such tutelage no longer. Various plans had at different times found place in her dreams. She would collect funds for founding a sisterhood, an institution, a hospital ; but one thing she saw clearly and consistently. If she were ever to have an opportunity of doing good work in nursing or otherwise in service to the poor, she must first leam her business. There is a long letter of 1850 from her to her father in which she argues the point, not specifically with reference to herself, but as a general proposition. Something more than good intention is necessary in order to do good. Philanthropy is a matter of skill, and an apprenticeship in it is necessary. An opportunity occurred sooner than she had dared to hope which enabled her to serve such an apprenticeship. Her sister was still in bad health, and a visit to Carlsbad was again proposed. She insisted on being allowed to start with her mother and her sister, and to spend at Kaiserswerth the time that they would spend upon the cure and subsequent travels. She reached Kaiserswerth early in July and stayed there as an inmate of the Institution until October 8. Ill Kaiserswerth is an ancient town on the Rhine, on the right bank, six miles below Diisseldorf. In its Church of the twelfth century a reliquary is shown, in which are preserved the bones of St. Suitbertus, who came there from Ireland to preach the Gospel in 710. Eleven centuries later, a Protestant pastor of Kaiserswerth repaid the debt to the British Isles by founding the famous Institution for Deaconesses which was now to give Florence Nightingale an important part of her training. The order of deaconesses, as she was careful to point out in her account of Kaiserswerth, was known in the Primitive Church ; and long before St. Vincent de Paul established the Sisters of Mercy in 1633, Protestant communities had in 1457 organized " Presby- terae," since " many women chose a single state, not because they expected thereby to reach a super-eminent degree of cH.viii PASTOR FLIEDNER'S FOUNDATION 109 holiness, but that they might be better able to care for the sick and young." It was in 1823-24 that the young pastor. of Kaiserswerth, Theodor Fliedner, set out on a journey' ^ to Holland and England to beg for funds to reheve his H parish, which had been ruined by the failure of a silk-mill. I In England, the little Princess Victoria headed his list of subscribers. In London he met Mrs. Elizabeth Fry and was greatly impressed with her work in Newgate. Shortly after his return he founded (1826) the Rhenish- Westphalian Prison Association. Presently he met a kindred spirit in Friederike Miinster, a woman in comparatively easy circum- stances who was devoting herself to reformatory work. They married, and in 1833 — ^^ ^ tiny summer-house in the pastor's garden — a refuge was opened for the reception of a single discharged prisoner. Three years later, they added, on an equally modest scale at first, an Infant School, and a Hospital in which to train volunteer-nurses as deaconesses. From these humble beginnings has grown a great congeries of institutions, the fame of which has spread throughout the philanthropic world. There are thirty branch or daughter houses in various parts of Germany. They are to be found also at Jerusalem, Alex- andria, Cairo, Beirut, Smyrna, and Bucharest. " Not only its own daughter houses, but all independent institutions for deaconesses, owe their existence to Kaiserswerth, for all subsequent work wrought by deaconesses whether in France, Switzerland, or America, whether Lutheran, Methodist, or Episcopalian, has been the fruit of the Kaisers- werth tree." ^ But the forest began as a tiny acorn. Pastor Fliedner started his work not with grandiose schemes or full-fledged programmes, but with individual cases and personal devotion. This was a point to which Miss Nightingale called particular attention in her account of the place. "It is impossible not to observe," she said, " how different was the beginning from the way in which institutions are generally founded — a list of subscribers with some royal and noble names at the head — a double column of rules and regulations — a collection of great names begin (and end) most new enterprises. The ^ History of Nursing, vol. ii. p. 4. no THE INSTITUTIONS OF KAISERSWERTH pt. i regulations are made without experience. Honorary members abound, but where are the working ones ? The scheme is excellent, but what are the results ? " Miss Nightingale's intensely practical genius had ever a holy horror of prospectuses. In some notes wiitten on June 15, 1848, I find this passage : — Eschew Prospectuses ; they're the devil, and make one sick. It is like making out a bill of fare when you have not a single pound of meat. What do the cookery books say ? First catch your hare. All the instances on the Continent have begun in one of two ways. At Kaiserswerth, a clergyman and his wife have begun, not with a Prospectus, but with a couple of hospital beds, and have offered, not an advertisement, but a home to young women willing to come. At Berne, a Mdlle. Wiirstenberger, a woman of rank and education, goes to Kaiserswerth to learn, and her friend to Strassburg. They return and open a hospital with two rooms, increase their funds, others join them and are taught by them. ... To publish first is as bad a practical bull as is the name of the Prospective Review. A few years were to pass, and Florence Nightingale herself was to begin her work in the world not with a programme, but with a deed. The institutions of Kaiserswerth, when she was there in 1 85 1, were still on a comparatively modest scale. They comprised, as she enumerates them, a Hospital (with 100 beds), an Infant School, a Penitentiary (with 12 inmates), an Orphan Asylum, and a Normal School for schoolmistresses. There were in all 116 deaconesses, of whom 94 were " consecrated," the remainder being still on probation. The " consecration " consisted only of "a solemn blessing in the Church, without vows of any kind." Of the 116 deaconesses, 67 were on service in other parts of Germany, or abroad ; the rest were engaged in working the various institutions at Kaiserswerth itself. After six months' trial they received a modest salary, just enough to provide their clothes. There was no other reward, except that the Mother House stood open to receive those who might fall ill or become infirm in its service. Everything was clean and well ordered, but there was no luxury ; the board was simple to the verge of roughness. The place was pervaded by two notes. It was a place of cH.viii ITS STANDARDS iii training, and a place of consecrated service. The training was both in practice and by precept. Every week the pastor gave a conversational lecture to the deaconesses, finding out from each the difficulties she might have experienced in her work, and suggesting how they could best be met. The education of the young, the ministration of the sick, the art of district visiting, the yet more difficult work of rescue and reformation, all were taught. In such a place as this, Florence Nightingale found by actual experience, as already she had learnt to expect from reading the reports, the realization in some degree of her most earnest desires. The training in nursing was, it is true, not particularly good ; it fell far short of the pro- fessional standard which the Nightingale School was after- wards to set up. She objected strongly in later years to current statements that her own training was confined to Kaiserswerth. " The nursing there," she wrote, " was ; nil. The hygiene horrible. The hospital was certainly ! the worst part of Kaiserswerth. I took all the training/-^ that was to be had — there was none to be had in England, but Kaiserswerth was far from having trained me." On the other hand " the tone was excellent, admirable. And Pastor Fliedner's addresses were the very best I ever heard. The penitentiary out-door work and vegetable gardening under a very capable Sister were excellently adapted to the case. And Pastor Fliedner's solemn and reverential teaching to us of the sad events of hospital life was what I have never heard in England." ^ But here, at Kaisers- werth, Miss Nightingale found " a better life for women," a scope for the exercise of " morally active " powers. And here, though the field was limited, was provided in some sort the training which alone could fit women for larger responsibilities elsewhere. Here was " the service of man " organized as " the service of God " ; here was opportunity for the Dedicated Life, as she had found it also in the Trinita de' Monti. Her manner of life at Kaiserswerth and her joy in it were told in letters to her mother : — ^ Letter to Mrs. C. S. Roundell, August 4, 1896. 112 DAILY LIFE AT KAISERSWERTH pt. i On Sunday I took the sick boys a long walk along the Rhine ; two Sisters were with me to help me to keep order. They were all in ecstasies with the beauty of the scenery, and really I thought it very fine too in its way — the broad mass of waters flowing ever on slowly and calmly to their destination, and all that unvarying horizon — so hke the slow, calm, earnest, meditative German character. The world here fills my hfe with interest, and strengthens me in body and mind. I succeeded directly to an office, and am now in another, so that until yesterday I never had time even to send my things to the wash. We have ten minutes for each of our meals, of which we have four. We get up at 5 ; breakfast I before 6. The patients dine at 11 ; the Sisters at 12. We drink tea {i.e. a drink made of ground rye) between 2 and 3, and sup at 7. We have two ryes and two broths — ryes at 6 and 3, broths at 12 and 7 ; bread at the two former, vegetables at 12. Several evenings in the week we collect in the Great Hall for a Bible lesson. The Pastor sent for me once to give me some of his unexampled instructions ; the man's wisdom and knowledge of human nature is wonderful ; he has an instinctive acquaintance with every character in his place. Except that once I have only seen him in his rounds. The operation to which Mrs. Bracebridge alludes was an amputation at which I was present, but which I did not mention to , knowing that she would see no more in my interest in it than the pleasure dirty boys have in playing in the puddles about a butcher's shop. I find the deepest interest in everything here, and am so well in body and mind. This is Life. Now I know what it is to five and to love hfe, and really I should be sorry now to leave life. I know you will be glad to hear this, dearest Mum. God has indeed made life rich in interests and blessings, and I wish for no other earth, no other world but this. The room in which Miss Nightingale slept during her residence at Kaiserswerth was in the Orphan Asylum. She took her meals with the Deaconesses. The Spartan severity, but no less the beautiful spirit of the place, were clear in her recollection nearly half a century later. In 1897 the authorities of the British Museum applied to her for a copy of the pamphlet on Kaiserswerth which she had printed in 185 1. The pencilled note which she sent with a torn copy of the pamphlet, the only one she could find, is preserved in the Museum Library. " I was twice in training there myself," she wrote (September 24, 1897). " Of course CH. VIII CRAVING FOR SYMPATHY 113 since then, Hospital and District nursing have made giant strides. Indeed District nursing has been invented. But never have I met with a higher tone, a purer devotion, than there. There was no neglect. It was the more remarkable because many of the Deaconesses had been only peasants — none were gentlewomen (when I was there). The food was poor. No coffee but bean - coffee. No luxury ; but cleanliness." Pastor Fliedner told a visitor to Kaiserswerth that " no person had ever passed so dis- tinguished an examination, or shown herself so thoroughly mistress of all she had to learn, as Miss Nightingale." ^ IV Happy as Miss Nightingale was at Kaiserswerth, there was yet one thing lacking. She wished, it is true, for no other earth ; she had found her pictured heaven ; her life was full and rich. Yet with all her self-reliance, and even in the moment of first victory in her long struggle for self- expression, she yearned, woman-like, for sympathy. Nay, and not only woman-like. " Not till we can think," said Carlyle, " that here and there one is thinking of us, one is loving us, does this waste earth become a peopled garden." It was not enough to Florence that she should have had her way and that her parents should have acquiesced. Her loving heart craved for their positive sympathy ; her mind, half leaning for all its masterfulness, demanded that what she had decided should be accepted by those dear to her as their choice also. " I should be as happy here,"' she wrote to her mother (August 31), "as the day is long, if I could hope that I had your smile, your blessing, your, sympathy upon it ; without which I cannot be quite happy. 1 My beloved people, I cannot bear to grieve you. Life and everything in it that charms you, you would sacrifice for me ; but unknown to you is my thirst, unseen by you are waters which would save me. To save me, I know would be to bless yourselves, whose love for me passes the love of women. Oh how shall I show you love and gratitude in return, yet ^ Mr. Sidney Herbert's speech at the Nightingale Fund Meeting, Nov. 29. 1855. VOL. I I 114 WHAT WILL PEOPLE THINK ? pt. i not so perish that you chiefly would mourn ! Give me time, give me faith. Trust me, help me, I feel within me that I could gladden your loving hearts which now I wound. Say to me, ' Follow the dictates of that spirit within thee.' Oh my beloved people, that spirit shall never lead me to anything unworthy of one who is yours in love." ^ But her mother and her sister, though they loved and admired her, or perhaps from their point of view because they did so. were unable to give any such active sympathy as that for which she craved. Her sister hoped that the visit to Kaiserswerth would be only an episode. It was a good thing, she had written to her mother, for Florence to go there, "as we can get her back sooner to Lea Hurst." To Florence herself she wrote affectionately, but yet with gentle irony. She sent a lively letter describing in detail the birth of a friend's twins : "I tell you, as you are going to be a sage femme, I suppose," Mrs. Nightingale, for her part, had acquiesced in the visit to Kaiserswerth, but was already wondering what people would think of her daughter's escapade. " I have not mentioned to any one," wrote Florence (July i6), " where I am, and should also be very sorry that the old ladies should know. With regard, however, to your fear of what people will say, the people whose opinion you most care about, it has been their earnest wish for years that I should come here. The Bunsens (I know he wishes one of his own daughters would come), the Bracebridges, the Sam Smiths, Lady Inglis, the Sidney Herberts, the Plunketts, all wish it ; and I know that others — Lady Bjnron, Caroline Bathurst, Mr. Tremenheere, Mr. Rich (whose opinions however I have not asked) — would think it a very desirable thing for everybody. . . . With regard to telhng people the fact (afterwards) of my having been here, I can see no difficulty. The Herberts, as you know, even commissioned me to do something for them here. The fact itself will pain none of them," Mr. and Mrs, Herbert, who were at Homburg, presently paid her a visit at Kaiserswerth, Mrs, Nightingale and her elder daughter reached Cologne ^ Much of this appeal was suggested to Florence, in almost identical words (as an extant letter shows), by her Aunt Mai. cH.viii MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 115 on their way home in October 185 1, and there Florence rejoined them. " Our dear child Florence," wrote the mother to Madame Mohl (October 9), " came to us yesterday, and is gone this morning to visit certain Deaconesses and others. I long to be at home and among our people. Daily and hourly I congratulate myself that our home is where it is. Oh what a land of justice and freedom and all good things it is, compared to what we have seen, and how surprising that with all our advantages and our freedom won we should not be so much better than other people. Well, I hope Florence will be able to apply all the fine things she has been learning, to do a little to make us better. Parthe and I are much too idle to help and too apt to be satisfied with things as they are." CHAPTER IX AN INTERLUDE (1852) Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow. — Byron. The three months which Miss Nightingale spent at Kaisers- werth in 1851 were a turning-point in her career, but they were not immediately effectual in altering the tenor of her life. The battle for freedom was not yet completely won ; but the " mountains of difficulty " in her way had been turned, and henceforth the resistance offered to her was but a rear-guard action. A note of serenity, in marked contrast to the storm and distress of earlier years, now appears in some of her letters. She had firmly resolved on taking her life into her own hands ; and at Kaiserswerth she had already served some apprenticeship. She was resolved no less firmly to follow up the advantage ; and, though there were still to be some difficulties ahead, she could afford to be patient for a while : — {To Miss H. Bonham Carter.) Umberslade, Jan. 8. Brussels Sprouts is at it already, I mean at correspondence. I mention it to show how little women's occupations are respected, when people can think that a woman has time to spin out long theories with every young fool who visits at her house. This place is grand — Inigo Jones, and Papa is content. ... I Hke Dr. Johnson ; but I can always talk better to a medical man than to any one else. They have not that detestable nationality which makes it so difficult to talk with an Englishman. I sup- pose the habit of examining organisations gives them this. . . . Poor Cassandra has found an unexpected ally in a young surgeon 116 cH.ix A BIRTHDAY LETTER (1852) 117 of a London hospital, a son of Dr. Johnson who sits next Papa at the table d'hote. The account he gives of the nurses beats every- thing that even I know of. This young prophet says that they are all drunkards, without exception, Sisters and all, and that there are but two nurses whom the surgeon can trust to give the patients their medicines. I thought you would be pleased to hear how bad they are, so I tell you. Johnson is extraorchnarily careful, but he does not strike me as having genius hke Gully. The company is of a nature which would give Mama some hopes of me that I should learn " the value of good society " by the contrast. . . . {To her Father.) May 12 [1852]. On my 32nd birth- day I think I must write a word of acknowledgment to you. I am glad to think that my youth is past, and rejoice that it never, never can return — that time of follies and bondage, of unfulfilled hopes and disappointed ^experience, when a man possesses nothing, not even himself. I am glad to have lived ; though it has been a life which, except as the necessary prepara- tion for another, few would accept. I hope now that I have come into possession of myself. I hope that I have escaped from that bondage which knows not how to distinguish between " bad habits " and " duties " — terms often used synonymously by all the world. It is too soon to holloa before you are out of the wood ; and hke the Magdalen in Correggio's picture, I see the dark wood behind, the sharp stones in front only with too much clearness. Of clearness, however, there cannot be too much. But, as in the picture, there is hght. I hope that I may hve ; a thing which I have not often been able to say, because I think I have learnt something which it would be a pity to waste. And I am ever yours, dear father, in struggle as in peace, with thanks for all your kind care, F. N. When I speak of the disappointed inexperience of youth, of course I accept that, not only as inevitable, but as the beautiful arrangement of Infinite Wisdom, which cannot create us gods, but which will not create us animals, and therefore wills mankind to create mankind by their own experience — a disposition of Perfect Goodness which no one can quarrel with. I shall be very ready to read you, when I come home, any of my " Works," in your own room before breakfast, if you have any desire to hear them. — Au revoir, dear Papa. II There were various reasons for the comparative serenity of Miss Nightingale's mind during this period of pause. One ii8 THE WATER-CURE pt. i was the obvious call of filial duty for the moment. Her father was in poor health, and had been advised to take the water-cure under Dr. Johnson at Umberslade Park, in Worcestershire. Florence, being herself convalescent at the time from an attack of the measles, was the more ready to companion her father. She was at Umberslade with him for some weeks at the beginning, and again at the end, of the year. Her observation of some of the patients there, as in a former year at Malvern, was the origin of an epi- grammatic definition which I find in one of her note-books : " The water-cure : a highly popular amusement within the last few years amongst athletic invalids who have felt the tedium vitae, and those indefinite diseases which a large income and unbounded leisure are so well calculated to produce." Then, again, towards the end of the year, her kinswoman, " Aunt Evans," was smitten down. She was the sister of her father's mother, and died at the age of ninety. Florence attended her in her last illness, and as emergency- man made all the arrangements for her funeral. George Eliot was, I beheve, distantly connected with " Aunt Evans's " family ; and it was in this year that she and Florence met. " I had a note from Miss Florence Nightin- gale yesterday," wrote George EHot in July 1852 ; " I was much pleased with her. There is a loftiness of mind about her which is well expressed by her form and manner." ^ Florence also at this time called upon Mrs. Browning, who in a letter to a friend, three years later, said : " I remember her face and her graceful manner and the flowers she sent me afterwards. She is an earnest, noble woman." 2 In August 1852 Miss Nightingale visited Ireland, and inspected the DubHn hospitals, somewhat, it seems, to her disappoint- ment. She went in September with her father to stay with Sir James Clark, Queen Victoria's physician, at Birk Hall, near Ballater. She always got on well, as we have just heard, with medical men, and the opportunity of discussing her plans and thoughts with so eminent a physician must have pleased her greatly. ^ George Eliot's Life as Related in her Letters and Journals, edited by J. W. Cross, vol. i. p. 285. 2 Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, vol. i. p. 188. MISS NIGHTINGALE'S "WORKS" 119 III The letter to her father, given above, refers to Miss Nightingale's " Works " ; and herein is to be found a second explanation of this peaceful interlude in her life. She had, as I have said, renounced a literary career ; but she drew a sharp distinction between what she called literature for its own sake, and writing as subservient to action. She was, intensely anxious to find some theological sanction, less assailable than she deemed the popular creeds to be, for her religion of practical service. Again, as I have also said, she was determined to open up a new sphere of usefulness for women. These were the subjects of her " Works," which comprised " a Novel " and a book on " Religion." Of the novel, no manuscript has been found among her papers. But in one of three volumes of Suggestions for Thought, which she printed privately in i860, there is a section entitled " Cassandra," dealing with the life at home of an ordinary English gentlewoman. It may be conjectured that the form of the novel was abandoned after 1852, and the theme treated instead in the pages of " Cassandra." The manuscript book on " Religion " was doubtless enlarged between 1852 and i860 into the main portion of the Sugges- tions for Thought, of which the first volume was dedicated " To the Artizans of England." Already in 185 1, in a sheet of good resolutions. Miss Nightingale had planned to devote some portion of her life at home to giving " a new religion to the Tailors." The hero of Alton Locke, published in 1850, was, it will be re- membered, a tailor. IMiss Nightingale herself had some acquaintance with operatives in the North of England and in London, " among those of what are called ' Holyoake's party.' " ^ She met these latter through Mr. Edward True- love, whom some readers of earlier generations may still remember as a publisher and vendor of radical and " free- thinking " literature. " The Literary and Scientific Insti- tution " in John Street, Fitzroy Square, was in the 'forties the headquarters of Owenite Socialists, the Secularists ^ Letter to Sir John McNeill, May 17, i860. 120 MR. TRUELOVE'S SHOP pt. i (whose chief prophet was George Jacob Holyoake) and other " advanced " persons. In 1846 Mr. Truelove had come up from " Harmony Hall," the Owenite community at Tytherley in Hampshire, to act as Secretary of the Institution in John Street ; and in a small house next door he set up his shop — afterwards removed, successively, to the Strand and High Holborn. A west-end lady, who did not at first give her name, used to pay occasional visits to the shop in John Street, and have long conversations with the wife of the proprietor. The lady was Miss Nightingale, and the acquaintance developed into a friendship with Mrs. Truelove, which extended over many years. Mr. Truelove was an unworldly man, conducting his affairs with entire disregard for " business principles," conventional opinions, and constituted authorities. His shop, as Mr. Holyoake said, was one of the " fortresses of prohibited thought, not garrisoned without daring " ; and provisioned, it may be added, scantily enough. Miss Nightingale continued to see Mrs. Truelove from time to time in later years ; wrote to her occasionally ; sent her books and various presents regularly ; and in times of her husband's difficulties and (literally) trials, never withheld sympathy. Miss Nightingale's object, in her first expeditions to John Street, had been to discover and discuss the kind of literature affected by the more intelligent working-men. The conclusion at which she arrived was that " the most thinking and conscientious of the artizans have no religion at all." ^ She set to work, accordingly, to find a new religion for them. In this undertaking she took much counsel with one of her aunts. This was " Aunt Mai," her father's sister, Mary Shore, married to Mr. Samuel Smith, her mother's brother. A large number of her letters on religious subjects was pre- served by Miss Nightingale. They show spiritual insight, and a considerable talent in speculative thought. The postscript of Miss Nightingale's letter to her father, given above, contains one of the fundamental ideas in her scheme of theology — the idea of Perfect Goodness, willing that mankind shall create mankind by man's own experience. The same idea was suggested by Aunt Mai when she wrote 1 Letter to Sir John McNeill, May 17, 1S60. CH. IX RELIGION FOR THE ARTIZANS 121 to her niece : " The purpose of God is to accompHsh the welfare of man, not as a gift from Him, but as to be attained for each individual and for the whole race by the right exercise of the capabilities of each." During 1851 and 1852 aunt and niece corresponded at great length on these high matters, and by the end of the latter year Miss Nightingale had her new religion ready for the criticism of her friends. " Many thanks," she wrote (Nov. 19) to her cousin Hilary, " for your letter of corrections and annotations, all of which I have adopted. I should much like to have a regular talk with you about the Novel. I have not the least idea whether I shall have to remodel the Novel and ' Religion ' entirely ; for I am so sick of it that I lose all discrimination about the ensemble and the form." Her object is explained in a letter of about the same date to another friend : — {To R. Monckton Milnes.) I am going abroad soon. Before I go, I am thinking of asking you whether you would look over certain things which I have written for the working-men on the subject of belief in a God. All the moral and intellectual among them seem going over to atheism, or at least to a vague kind of theism. I have read them to one or two, and they have hked them. I should have Uked to have asked you if you think them likely to be read by more ; but you are perhaps not interested in the subject, or you have no time, which is fuUy taken up with other things. If you tell me this, it will be no surprise or dis- appointment. ^ Lord Houghton read the manuscript attentively, and did not forget it. Several years later, when Miss Nightingale was ill, and thought likely to die, he wrote to her suggesting that if she had made no other arrangements for the pre- servation and possible publication of her essay, she might think of entrusting it to him. " I have often thought," he said (March 11, '61), " of asking you what you meant to do with the papers you have written on social and speculative subjects. They surely should not be destroyed ; and yet I hardly know to whom you wiU entrust them, who would not misunderstand, misinterpret, and misuse them. If you were to leave them in my hands, they would be, at any rate, ^ Life of Lord Houghton, vol. i. p. 475. 122 FINAL BLOW FOR INDEPENDENCE pt. i safe from irreverent handling or crude exposure, and could be used in any way more or less future that you might think fit." By that time, however, the work had been submitted to the judgment of other men of letters ; and to that later period further reference to the subject had better be postponed. IV The formulating of a religion, whether for the tailors or others, is no short task, and Miss Nightingale's " Works " must have well filled her mind during otherwise unoccupied hours in 1852. But the " Works " were only bye- work. Her main concern was to continue her apprenticeship in nursing. Some vexatious delays and difficulties were still to be encountered, but she faced them with a brighter confidence than before, and the last stage of the struggle wears an aspect more of comedy than of tragedy. She had success- fully asserted her independence once in going to Kaisers- werth. In an imaginary dialogue with her mother, she makes herself say, " Why, my dear, you don't suppose that with my ' talents ' and my ' European reputation ' and my * beautiful letters,' and all that, I'm going to stay dangling about my mother's drawing-room all my life ! I shall go and look out for work, to be sure. You must look upon me as your son. I should have cost you a great deal more if I had married or been a son. You must now consider me married or a son. You were willing to part with me to be married." In presenting the case in this light to her parents, Florence had now a valuable ally in her Aunt Mai. Some- thing of a diplomatist, as well as of a philosopher, was within the powers of that excellent woman. Without any interference which could be resented, by insinuating a word here, suggesting a phrase there, and pouring oil upon troubled waters everywhere. Aunt Mai did a good deal to smooth the last stages in her niece's struggle for independence. 1 Like all good diplomatists, the aunt sought first for a basis of compromise. She was able to sympathize with both sides. She was wholly favourable to her niece's aspirations and claims. But as a mother herself, she could enter into the case of her brother and his wife. It was not cH.ix DIPLOMATIC MANOEUVRES 123 that they were selfishly obstructive ; it was that, finding so much interest and enjoyment themselves in their own way of life, they desired in all love that the daughter should not deprive herself of the same privileges. But could not a compromise be arranged ? Let it be agreed that Florence should spend part of each year in pursuit of what the mother considered her daughter's fancies, and spend another part at home. This was the arrangement which was in fact now in force. The compromise served well enough for a while, but Florence wanted something more ; and here, again. Aunt Mai's diplomacy prepared the way. With a good strategic eye, she saw that Mrs. Nightingale held the key of the posi- tion. Mr. Nightingale in his heart was at one with Florence. He admired her and believed in her ; he was quite willing that she should go her own way, and was not reluctant to make her some independent allowance, such as would enable her to conduct a mission or an institution. But, as he said to his sister, whenever he broached anything of the kind to his wife and elder daughter, he found them united against him. Mr. Nightingale was one of those amiable men who are inclined to take the line of least resistance. It was Mrs. Nightingale's opposition, therefore, that had to be overcome. " Your mother," reported the aunt, " would, I believe, be most willing that you undertake a mission like Mrs. Fry or Mrs. Chisholm,! but she thinks it necessary for your peace and well-being that there should be a Mr. Fry or Captain Chisholm to protect you, and in conscience she thinks it right to defend you from doing anything which she thinks would be an impediment to the existence of Mr. F. or Captain C." A good many mothers, even in these days, will, I doubt not, be on Mrs. Nightingale's side. But Aunt Mai, having made her sister-in-law define the position, pressed the advantage in an ingenious way. Florence was already thirty-two ; and a time comes soon after that age when even the most sanguine mother begins to despair. It was agreed, accordingly, that " at some future specified age " Florence ^ Caroline Jones (1808-77) married Captain Chisholm, 1830 ; opened orphan schools in Madras, 1832 ; befriended female emigrants to Australia, 1841-66. Miss Nightingale had correspondence with her in 1862. 124 PLAN FOR STUDY IN PARIS pt.i should be free to do the work of a Mrs. Fry or a Mrs. Chis- holm without the protection of a Mr. F. or a Captain C. There was even some talk of obtaining a written agreement to that effect, specifying the age ; but Aunt Mai thought better of such a plan, and contented herself with calling in another witness to the verbal understanding. This was the lady — Mrs. Bracebridge — who two years later was to ac- company Miss Nightingale on a mission more renowned even than that of Mrs. Fry or Mrs. Chisholm. But from the point gained by Aunt Mai's diplomacy and Florence's own per- sistence, a logical consequence followed. Presently, at some future unspecified age, Florence was to be free to con- trol some philanthropic institution ; but what would be the use of being free to do so, unless she were also trained and qualified ? V Having lived and learnt among the Protestant Deacon- esses in Germany, Miss Nightingale was next determined to do the like among the Catholic Sisters in France. She sought the good offices of Manning, whose acquaintance she had made in Rome five years before, and who had now lately been received into the Roman Communion. Manning put himself into communication with his friend, the Abbe Des Genettes, in Paris. The Abbe obtained leave from the Council of the Sisters of Charity for the English lady to study their institutions. It had been explained to him that Miss Nightingale was also desirous of studying the hospitals in Paris. The Abbe accordingly selected a House belonging to the Sisters which would offer every advantage in this respect. Her cousin. Miss Hilary Bonham Carter, who was intent on the study of art and had been invited to stay with M. and Madame Mohl, was to accompany her to Paris ; and Lady Augusta Bruce was also to be of the party. It was in the salon of Madame Mohl that Lady Augusta met her future husband, Dean Stanley. Thus, then, it had been arranged. The necessary authorization from the Sisters had been obtained in Septem- ber. The start was to be made in November. But as the time approached, Mrs. Nightingale drew back. She wrote CH. IX DELAY INTERPOSED 125 of the plan, not as something agreed upon, but as a new proposition. " I am afraid," she said to Aunt Mai, " that Flo is thinking of some new expedition, perhaps to Paris. I cannot make up my mind to it." Florence was staying at a friend's house in London. Her father came in, and reported that her mother was greatly distressed. There was company coming to Embley, and could Florence have the heart to leave her mother ? " Parthe would be in hysterics." Every one would be in despair. Could she not delay ? An aged kinswoman, moreover, was ill, as already related. Florence yielded, perhaps more to this last consideration than to the others, and the start was postponed. There was a lingering hope that the expedition to Paris might be abandoned, and a suggestion was made to that end. Why must Florence go to the Sisters, and Roman Catholic Sisters, too — abroad ? Why should she not stay at home, and con- duct some small institution on her own account ? There was a house available for such a purpose at Cromford Bridge, close to their own Lea Hurst, and Mr. Nightingale would provide the necessary funds. In this way the best might be made of both worlds — of theirs, and of hers. Florence was touched, but remained of her own mind : — {To her sister.) January 3. Oh, my dearest Pop, I wish I could tell you how I love you and thank you for your kind thoughts as received in your letter to-day. If you did but know how genial it is to me, when my dear people give me a hope of their blessing and that they would speed me on my way ! as the kind thought of Cromford seems to say they are ready to do. I will write to Mama about Paris and Cromford. My Pop, whether at one or the other, my heart will be with thee. Now if these seem mere words, because bodily I shall be leaving you, have patience with me, my dearest. I hope that you and I shall live to prove a true love to each other. I cannot, during the year's round, go the way which (for my sake, I know) you have wished. There have been times when, for your dear sake, I have tried to stifle the thoughts which I feel ingrained in my nature. But, if that may not be, I hope that something better shall be. If I ask your blessing on a part of my time for my absence, I hope to be all the happier with you for that absence when we are together. Miss Nightingale refused Cromford Bridge House : it 126 THE END OF A STRUGGLE pt. i was most unsuitable for the purpose; the only more un- suitable place was the " Forest Lodge " at Embley, which her sister Parthe had suggested. In the followmg year, Florence joined the Sisters of Charity in Paris. And thus, after many struggles and delays, was she launched upon her true work in the world. CHAPTER X FREEDOM. PARIS AND HARLEY STREET (1853-Octobcr 1854) Lo, as some venturer from his stars receiving Promise and presage of sublime emprise. Wears evermore the seal of his beheving Deep in the dark of solitary eyes. F. W. H. Myers. The institution in which Florence Nightingale was to serve her apprenticeship in Paris was the Maison de la Providence, belonging to the Soeurs de la Charite in the Rue Oudinot (No. 5), Faubourg St. Germain. The Abbe Des Genettes described in a letter to Manning the attractions which it would offer to his protegee. The principal House, managed by twenty Sisters, received nearly two hundred poor orphans, and also conducted a creche. A hospital was attached to it, next door, for aged and sick women. Within ten minutes' walk Miss Nightingale would find two other hospitals, one a general hospital, the other a children's hospital. The English demoiselle would conform, in accordance with her desire, to the rules of the House as a postulante, rendering all necessary service to the sick. The only restrictions were that she would not be able to enter the refectory or the dormitory of the Sisters. She would have to sleep and take her meals in her own room. But she would be free to visit the poor in company with the Sisters, to serve the sick under their direction in various hospitals and infirmaries, and to assist in the care of the orphans alike in class and at play. Such was the life in Paris to which Miss Nightingale was looking forward eagerly. She left London for Paris on February 3, 1853, with her cousin. Miss Bonham Carter, and 127 128 HOSPITAL STUDIES IN PARIS : 1853 pt. i they stayed with M. and Madame Mohl in the Rue du Bac. Before entering the Maison de la Providence, Miss Nightin- gale desired to visit and study other institutions in Paris. She was armed with a comprehensive permit from the Administration Generale de I'Assistance Publique to study in all the hospitals of the city. She availed herself indefatig- ably of this permission, spending her days in inspecting hospitals, infirmaries, and religious houses, and having the advantage of seeing the famous Paris surgeons at their work. Now, as at all times, she was a diligent collector and student of reports, returns, statistics, pamphlets. Among her papers of this date are elaborately tabulated analyses of hospital organization and nursing arrangements both in France and in Germany, and a circular of questions bearing on the same subjects which she seems to have addressed to the principal institutions in the United King- dom. Her evenings were spent in company with her host and hostess. There were soirees dansantes in the Rue du Bac. She went once or twice with Madame Mohl to balls elsewhere, and also to the opera. She met many English visitors and distinguished Parisians. Having completed her general inquiries into the Paris hospitals, she presented herself to the Reverend Mother of the Maison de la Pro- vidence, and had arranged a day for her admission, when she was suddenly recalled to England by the illness of her grandmother, who died at the age of ninety-five, " Great has been the occasion for Flo's usefulness," wrote Mr, Nightingale to his wife. And " I shall never be thankful enough," wrote Florence herself to her cousin in Paris, " that I came, I was able to make her be moved and changed, and to do other little things which perhaps smoothed the awful passage, and which perhaps would not have been done as well without me." A family event of a different kind interested Miss Nightingale at this time. Her cousin Blanche Shore Smith had become engaged to Arthur Hugh Clough, Miss Nightingale greatly Hked him. As a long engagement seemed likely. Miss Nightingale interested herself in the future of the young couple ; discussing the proper limits of parental allowances in such matters ; draw- ing up elaborately detailed estimates of household expendi- cH.x NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE " F.A.S. " 129 ture, not forgetting to include future charges for a young family, as by the statistics of the average birth-rate they might be calculated. Statistics were already almost a passion with her. II Negotiations were now on foot for Miss Nightingale to take charge of a benevolent institution in London, and Madame Mohl advised her to keep in their places the great ladies who were concerned in it. Neither now, nor at any time, was she much in love with committees, but not every word in the following account of the negotiations need be taken very seriously : — {To Madame Mohl.) Lea Hurst, April 8. In all that you say I cordially agree, and if you knew what the " fashionable asses " have been doing, their " offs " and their " ons," poor fools ! you would say so ten times more. I shall be truly grateful if you will write to Pop — my people know as much of the affair now as I do — which is not much. You see the F.A.S. (or A.F.S., which will stand for " ancient fathers " and be more respectful, as they are all Puseyites), the F.A.S. want me to come up to London now and look at them, and if we suit to come very soon into the Sanatorium, which, I am afraid, will preclude my coming back to Paris, especially if you are coming away soon, for going there without you would unveil all my iniquities, as the F.A.S. are quite as much afraid of the R.C.'s as my people are. It is no use telling you the history of the negotiations, which are enough to make a comedy in 50 acts. They may be summed up as I once heard an Irish shoeless boy translate Virgil : Ohstupui, " I was althegither bothered " — steteruntque comae, " and my hair stood up like the bristles of a pig " — vox faiicihus haesit, " and divil a word could I say." Well, divil a bit of a word can I say except that you are very good, dear friend, to take so much interest, and that I shall be truly glad if you will write to Pop, . . . dans le sens du muscle. All your advice, which I sent to Mrs. Bracebridge, I give my profoundest adhesion to — I would gladly point the finger of scorn in the liveliest manner at the F.A.S. and ride them roughshod round Grosvenor Sq. I will even do my very best — but I am afraid it is not in me to do it as I should wish. It would be only a poor feint — a mean Caricature. But I will practise and you shall see me. My people are now at 30 Old Burlington Street, where I shall be in another week. Please write to them there, and if you can VOL. I K 130 PARENTAL CONSENT pt.i do a little quacking for me to them, the same will be thankfully received, in order that I may come in, when I arrive, not with my tail between my legs, but gracefully curved round me, in the old way in which Perugino's Devil wears it, in folds round the waist. I am afraid I must live at the place. If I don't, it will be a half and half measure which will satisfy no one. However, I shall take care to be perfectly free to clear off, without its being considered a failure, at my own time. I can give you no par- ticulars, dearest friend, because I don't know any. I can only say that, unless I am left a free agent and am to organize the thing myself and not they, I wiU have nothing to do with it. But as the thing is yet to be organized, I cannot lay a plan either before you or my people. And that rather perplexes them, as they want to make conditions that I shan't do this or that. If you would " well present " my plans, as you say, to them, it would be an inestimable benefit both to them and to me. . . . Hilhe will tell you all I know^that it is a Sanatorium for sick f governesses managed by a Committee of fine ladies. But there I are no surgeon-students nor improper patients there at all, which is, of course, a great recommendation in the eyes of the J 1 Proper, The Patients, or rather the Impatients, for I know ' '\ what it is to nurse sick ladies, are all pay patients, poor friendless folk in London. I am to have the choosing of the house, the appointment of the Chaplain and the management of the funds, as the F.A.S. are at present minded. But Isaiah himself could not prophesy how they will be minded at 8 o'clock this evening. What specially annoyed Miss Nightingale was that some of the fashionable ladies in the course of gossip had begun to wonder whether her appointment would have the approval of her family. Some officious friend had suggested that " it would be cruel to take her away from her home." This difficulty was disposed of by Miss Nightingale's assur- ance that the appointment would be submitted to the approval of her mother and father. Her father now agreed > i to make her an independent allowance, paid quarterly in ^ t. iv thing both ways here. When I hved in society (EngHsh) it seemed to me that, in conversation, people, but more especially women, were always doing one or more of three things : — (i) Addressing themselves : as when they adduce those little moral reasons for doing whatever they hke. (2) Saying something to mean some- thing else. Since I began what M. Mohl caUs my War against Red Tape, the commonest argument brought against me both by men and women, the best and cleverest, and within the last week too, is that I am led by " dishonest flatterers " and that they trust I may " awaken to a sense of my duty as a woman." Now they don't really believe that I am led by "dishonest flattery." But they think I shall not Hke it to be supposed that I am. This is only an anecdote (I hate anecdotes, don't you ?). But it is a very fair illustration of my No. 2, (3) Acting an amiable or humble idea : as when people teU an ill-natured story and then its palliation, and then say " We might have been worse." And all the while all they mean to be in your mind is, how amiable they are and how humble they are, and they mean you to believe the story and not the paUiation. ... I have done with being amiable. It is the mother of mischief. Miss Nightingale may have " done with being amiable " ; but she had certainly not done with a lively sense of humour. At the Burlington one day, or rather one night, there was a domestic catastrophe. Miss Nightingale's dressing-room was flooded. She sent a characteristic account of the subse- quent proceedings to her cousin : — {Miss Nightingale to Miss H. Bonham Carter.) [1861.] . . . I have just re-enacted the Crimea on a small scale. Everybody " did their duty," and I was drowned. But so distrustful was I of the results of their duty that I extorted from Mr. X. a weekly inspection of the cistern. I acted myself and no one has yet been drowned again. Mr. X. convinced four men — Sir Harry Verney, Papa, Uncle Sam, Uncle Octavius — whom I brought under weigh, that it was the frost and that he had done all that was possible. Then / had up Mr. X., and he admitted at once that it was nothing to do with the frost, and that what the workmen had done, viz. not altering the waste-pipe, was " rascally." I said he came off with an excuse. And I came off with a " severe internal congestion," vide Medical Certificate. I have had a larger responsibiUty of human Uves than ever man or woman had before. And I attribute my success to this : — / never gave or took an excuse. Yes, I do see the difference now between me and other men. When a disaster happens, I act and they make excuses. cH.vi ASSOCIATIONS OF "THE BURLINGTON" 507 Landlords might be brow-beaten ; servants had to be bribed. The prophetess had no honoiir in her own hotel. The maids at the Burlington had not mastered the elements of household hygiene as set out in Notes on Nursing. Amongst Miss Nightingale's papers there is this document : " August 16, i860. If for one fortnight from this time I find all the doors shut and all the windows open, and if . . . I will give the servants a Doctor's Fee, viz. One Guinea. — Signed, F. Nightingale." The Burlington Hotel continued to be Miss Nightingale's principal home till August 1861. The house, No. 30 in Old Burlington Street, still stands, and a memorial tablet might well be affixed by the London County Council or the Society of Arts. No other spot, in this country, has associations with so much of Miss Nightingale's public -woxk. It was there that she wrote the famous Report on her experiences in the Crimea, and there that she had the historic interview with Lord Panmure — the starting-point for the great and manifold reforms which she and Mr. Herbert carried out for the health of the British Army. It was there, too, that she wrote her Notes on Hospitals and Notes on Nursing — the books which helped to make a new epoch in hospital reform and to found the art of modern nursing ; and there that she thought out the scheme for professional training which has made " Nightingale Nurses " known throughout the world. Soon after Lord Herbert's death in August 1861, Miss Nightingale left Old Burlington Street. She was fond of the house. She had found no other place in London so convenient for her work. She had preferred to stay there rather than to accept the royal invitation to Kensington Palace. But the associations of the Burlington, as she said to many friends at the time, had now become too painful. 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