Florence Nightingale the Angel of the Crimea: With the Essay 'Representative Women' by Ingleby Scott
By Laura E. Richards and Ingleby Scott
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About this ebook
Florence Nightingale (1820–1910) was an English social reformer, statistician, and pioneer of modern nursing. She became famous during the time she served as manager and trainer of nurses during the Crimean War, giving nursing a positive reputation and becoming a Victorian culture icon. Also known as "The Lady with the Lamp", she was an accomplished writer who produced work related to medical knowledge. Contents include: “How Florence Got Her Name”, “Little Florence”, “The Squire's Daughter”, “Looking Out”, “Waiting For The Call”, “The Trumpet Call”, “The Response”, “Scutari”, “The Barrack Hospital”, “The Lady-In-Chief”, “The Lady With The Lamp”, etc.
Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards produced over 90 books over many genres, including poetry, biographies, and children's literature. Her most notable work is her children's poem "Eletelephony". Other notable works by this author include: “Baby's Rhyme Book” (1878), “Babyhood: Rhymes and Stories, Pictures and Silhouettes for Our Little Ones” (1878), and “Baby's Story Book” (1878). Read & Co is republishing this volume now in a high-quality, modern edition, complete with a biography of the author by Elizabeth Lee.
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Florence Nightingale the Angel of the Crimea - Laura E. Richards
FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE
THE ANGEL OF THE CRIMEA
A STORY FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
By
LAURA E. RICHARDS
WITH THE ESSAY
Representative Women
By Ingleby Scott
First published in 1909
Copyright © 2020 Brilliant Women
This edition is published by Brilliant Women,
an imprint of Read & Co.
This book is copyright and may not be reproduced or copied in any
way without the express permission of the publisher in writing.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available
from the British Library.
Read & Co. is part of Read Books Ltd.
For more information visit
www.readandcobooks.co.uk
To
the Sister Eleanor
of the Sisterhood of Saint Mary
Herself through many long years a devoted
worker for the poor, the sick, and the sorrowful,
This brief record of an
heroic life is affectionately dedicated.
Contents
REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN 'THE FREE NURSE' An Essay by Ingleby Scott
CHAPTER I. HOW FLORENCE GOT HER NAME.
CHAPTER II. LITTLE FLORENCE.
CHAPTER III. THE SQUIRE'S DAUGHTER.
CHAPTER IV. LOOKING OUT.
CHAPTER V. WAITING FOR THE CALL.
CHAPTER VI. THE TRUMPET CALL.
CHAPTER VII. THE RESPONSE.
CHAPTER VIII. SCUTARI.
CHAPTER IX. THE BARRACK HOSPITAL.
CHAPTER X. THE LADY-IN-CHIEF.
CHAPTER XI. THE LADY WITH THE LAMP.
CHAPTER XII. WINTER.
CHAPTER XIII. MISS NIGHTINGALE UNDER FIRE.
CHAPTER XIV. THE CLOSE OF THE WAR.
CHAPTER XV. THE TASKS OF PEACE.
REPRESENTATIVE WOMEN
'THE FREE NURSE'
An Essay by Ingleby Scott
By the Free Nurse I mean to indicate the Sister of Charity who devotes herself to the sick for their own sake, and from a natural impulse of benevolence, without being bound by any vow or pledge, or having any regard to her own interests in connexion with her office.
There is no dispute about the beauty and excellence of the nursing institutions of the continent, Catholic and Protestant. There can be no doubt that many lives are utilised by them, which would otherwise be frittered away from want of pursuit and guidance. Every town where they live can tell what the blessing is of such a body of qualified nurses, ready to answer any call to the sick-bed. The gratitude of their patients, and the respect of the whole community, testify to their services and merits: and the frequent proposal of some experiment to naturalise such institutions in England, proves that we English are sensible of the beauty of such an organisation of charity. My present purpose, however, is to speak of a more distinctive kind of woman than those who are under vows. However sincere the compassion, however disinterested the devotedness, in an incorporated Sister of Charity, she lies under the disadvantage of her bonds in the first place, and her promised rewards in the other. She may now and then forget her bonds; and there are occasions when they may be a support and relief to her; but they keep her down to the level of an organisation which can never be of a high character while the duty to be performed is regarded as the purchase-money of future benefits to the doer. Those who desire to establish the highest order of nursing had rather see a spontaneous nurse weeping over the body of a suffering child that has gone to its rest than a vowed Sister wiping away the death-damps and closing the eyes, under the promise of a certain amount of remission of sins in consequence. There is abundance of room in society for both vowed and spontaneous nurses, in almost any number; but, their quality as nurses being equal, the strongest interest and affection will always follow the freer, more natural, and more certainly disinterested service. The weaker sort are perhaps wise to put themselves under the orders of authority, which will settle their duty for them: but such cannot be representative women, except by some force of character which in so far raises them above the region of authority. The Representative Women among Nurses are those who have done the duty under some natural incitement, of their own free will, and in their own way.
It will not be supposed, for a moment, that I am speaking slightingly of such organisation as is necessary for the orderly and complete fulfilment of the nursing function. In every hospital where nurses enter freely, and can leave at pleasure, there must be strict rules, settled methods, and a complete organisation of the body of nurses, or all will go into confusion. The authority I refer to as a lower sanction than personal free disposition, is that of religious superiors, who impose the task of nursing as a part of the exercises by which future rewards are to be purchased. There cannot be a more emphatic pleader for hospital and domestic organisation, as a means to the best care of the sick, than Florence Nightingale: and at the same time, all the world knows that she would expect better things from women who become nurses of their own accord, and remain so, through all pains and penalties, when they might give it up at any hour, than from nuns who enter that path of life because it leads (as they believe) straightest to heaven, and do every act at the bidding of a conscience-keeper who holds the ultimate rewards in his hand.
The three women whose honoured names acted singly and spontaneously in devoting themselves to the sick, though their freedom was not of the same character, and their incitements were not alike. Not the less are they all representatives of the growing order of Free Nurses.
On this day two hundred years, Catherine Mompesson was beautiful girl of twenty, near her marriage with a clergyman, who was to introduce her to the life of a minister’s wife in a wild place, and among wild people. Their home was the Tillage of Eyam, in Derbyshire, then thickly peopled with miners. In the green dell, and on the breezy hills below and above Eyam, they and their children enjoyed country health and pleasures for a little while. Then the news came of the Great Plague in London; and then of its spreading through the country: but the place was so breezy and so retired, that there might be hope of its being spared the visitation. The winter came, and thanksgivings were fervent for the health the people of Eyam had enjoyed. In the spring, however, when nobody was thinking of dreading the plague, it broke out in the village. Tradition says, it was from some clothes that arrived from a distant place. As soon as it appeared that the mischief was past arresting, the young mother thought first of her children,—or at least, pleaded first for them, in imploring her husband to leave the place with his family. He knew his duty too well. He was firm about remaining; and his desire was that she should carry away her children to a place of safety, than remain there. This she refused with equal firmness: so they sent away the children, and set to work to nurse all Eyam. Out of seventy-six families, two hundred and fifty-nine persons died. The pastor and his wife shut themselves up with the people, allowing nobody to come in or go out, in order to confine the calamity to the village. By his faculty of organisation, all were fed; and by her devotedness, all were nursed, as far as seemed possible, till she sank in the midst of them. Her husband in good time engaged the country people of the surrounding districts to leave food and other supplies at stated places on the hills at fixed hours, when he pledged himself that they should encounter nobody from the village; and these supplies were fetched away at intermediate hours, without any one person ever taking advantage of the opportunity to get away. There could be no stronger evidence of the hold their pastor had on their affections. In a number of the Gentleman’s Magazine, published about the close of the last century, there is an engraving of a rock, called Mompesson’s Pulpit.
It is a natural arch in the rock, near Eyam, where he stood to read prayers and preach during the plague,—the people being ranged on the open hill-side opposite, and within reach of his voice. This was to avoid the risks of collecting together in the church.
Catherine Mompesson nursed her neighbours from early spring till August, when she died. Amidst the appalling sights and sounds, of which her husband’s letters convey a dreadful idea, she sustained herself and him, and all about them. His immediate expectation of following her is shown by his letter of the 1st of September to Sir George Saville, about the choice of his successor and the execution of his will: but he lived till his 70th year—still the good clergyman to his life’s end.
It was domestic affection, evidently, which threw Catherine Mompesson into the position of a nurse. At first, she would have left the scene of sickness to preserve husband and children. It was for her husband’s sake that she remained—remained to be his helper, at any sacrifice to herself. An incident recorded in one of his letters shows the domestic affections strong in death. She had refused the cordials
he pressed upon her, saying that she could not swallow them; but, on his suggestion of living for their children, she raised herself in bed, and made the effort. She took the medicines; but she was past saving. Her devotedness as a nurse was not impaired, but sanctified, by the influences under which she undertook the work. So the good Howard thought when he went to Eyam, before his last departure from England, to ascertain what details he could of the pestilence, and of the exemplary nurses of the sick. So think those who even yet visit the churchyard among the hills, and find out her grave, with the intimation at the foot of the suddenness of her call hence. Cave: nescitis horam.
Mary Pickard’s good work was of a similar nature; but even more freely undertaken. She was our contemporary, and has been only a few years dead. She was an American, born, I believe, of English parents; and, at any rate, connected with England by many relationships. In her early womanhood she visited England, previous to her marriage with Dr. Henry Ware, afterwards Divinity Professor in Harvard University. Among other relatives, she chose to visit an aunt who had early