LITERATURE.

Daily Southern Cross, Volume XIII, Issue 957, 29 August 1856, Page 4

LITERATURE.

EASTERN HOSPITALS and ENGLISH NURSES. In these books we have a plain and affecting record of the noble services of the self-devoted women who, quitting Ihe ease and luxury of their native English homes, went forth full of the strength of hope and blessed with the influence of Christianity, to minister at the bed of daily suffering, and to soothe the last agonies of the bed of death. - The name of Miss Nightingale will for ever remain a melodious sound j a sound evoking the fullest sympathy and the deepest admiration from the national heart. And the noble instincts of that peerless woman were nobly seconded by ano le sisterhood. We pass scenes and incidents of preparation of the voyage, of arrival, and heart sickening delay, and at once come to the English hospital at Scutari. "Two days after my arrival," says the authores", "Miss Nightingale sent for me "to go with her round thehospital (She generally visited her special cases at night.) We went, round the whole of the second story, into many of the wards and into one of the upper corridors. It seemed an endless walk, and it was one not easily forgotten. As we slowly passed along, the silence was profound; very seldom did a moan or cry from those multitudes of deeply-suffering ones fall on our ears. { A dim light burnt here and there. Miss Nightingale carried her lanthern, which she would set down before she bent over any of the patients. I much admired Miss Nightingale's manner to the men — it was so tender and kind All the corridors were thickly lined with beds laid on low trestles raised a few inches from the ground. In the wards a divan runs round the ioom, and on this were laid the straw beds, and the sufferers on them. The hospital was crowded to its fullest extent. The building, which has since been reckoned to hold with comfort, seventeen; hundred men, then held between three and four thousand. Miss Nightingale assigned me my work — it was fcalf A corridor, the whole of B, half C, the whole of I (on the third story), and all the wards leading out of these respective corridors ; in each corridor there were fifteen of these, except in No. 1, where there were only six. This work I was to share with another lady and one nurse. The number of patients under our charge was, as far as I could reckon, about fifteen hundred. Miss Nightingale told us only to attend to those in the divisions of those surgeons who wished for our services. She said the staff-surgeon of the division was willing we should work under him, and she charged -us never to do anything for the patients without the leave of the doctors. When we had gone round the hospital, we came out of A corridor upon the main guard. The blast of cold «r from the entrance was refreshing after the, overpowering smell of the wards. The corridors of the lower story were under the charge of Miss E , from Miss Sellon's, assisted by nurse's j the remainder of A, under Sister M. S , of the Bermondsey buns ; the upper corridors, except No. 1, under another nun. Several nurses were engaged in different divisions of C corridor; the rest in the diet kitchen. It seems simply impossible to describe Scutari hospital at this time. Far abler pens' have tried, and all in some measure, failed; for what .an eye-witness saw was past description. Even those who read the harrowing accounts, in the 'Times' and elsewhere could not have imagined the full horror of the reality. At we passed the corridors; we asked

ourselves if it was not a terrible dream. When we woke in the morning, our hearts sank down at the thought of the woe we must witness that day. At night we lay down wearied beyond expression; but not so much from physical fatigue, though that was great, as from the sickness of heart from living amidst that mass of hopeless suffering. On all sides prevailed the uttermost confusion — whose fault it was I cannot tell — clear heads have tried to discover in vain : probably the blame should have been shared by all the departments of the hospital " And vet time, with the indomitable perseverance of woman's gentle and enduring spirit, soon stilled all the confusion into order; assuaged hopeless suffering to herioc endurance. Very touching are the accounts of the patience of the wounded, subdued by the least attention, so easily pleased with what was done for them. ''Very often we wrote letters for them from their dictation," says the Lady Volunteer. "And then they were so full of solicitude. 'Were we not too tired to do it ? or was it not uncomfortable J sitting on that there bed V " "I spread one of each different view (alluding \to some views of the war that had been received from England) out on the table, | and begged the soldiers to make their selection. Everybody who could walk at all crowded round the table. Orderlies and sergeants left their work to have a look, and even the medical officer was attracted by the crowd and came to look and admire. The different views were carried round to the patients in bed. The j business of choosing took a long time. Each wanted some scene in which be had formed a par.. Some had been with Colonel Chester when he so gallautly led on the Twentieth ; those who had been in the battle of the Altna wished for that ; those who had been at Balaklava another ; those again who had fought at Tnkcrmaun another. Some had seen General Strangways die, and .wanted his last scene : others were less warlike, 1 and chose the pretty views of the valley of the Alma before and afttr the battle; while the comic pictures were not without their share of admirers. One sergeant was particularly struck by the "Fresh Arrivals" — two young officers j fresh from Kngland, in all the pride of new uniforms and polished boots, meeting an old campaigI ncr on a mule, who had been out foraging for the moss table and was bringing home his purchases. i The sergeant held this up for the admiration of his comrades, and there was a shout of laughter instantly raised. I much wish my friends, Messrs. Rock also could have seen the extreme ,' pleasure these gifts were the means of giving — the delight it gave the soldiers to write home on these sheets of paper, or how they were treasured up and compared with each other day after day ; and many a tale did the pictures elicit as they j brought back more vividly to mind past scenes of Alma and Inkermann," &c. It is gratifying to observe how almost uncons ciously rudest natures acknowledge the selfi devotion, the goodness of the Lady Nurse — (among the hirelings there were sad examples of neglect and depravity) — by a sudden reveri ence. " The moment we approached," writes the | lady," all coarseness was hushed." In due season, system takes the place of confusion. "Our life was a regular roiitine of work and rest (except on occasions of extraordinai-y pressure) following each other in order ; but whether in the strain ofoverw.ork or the steady fulfilment of our arduous duty, there was one bright ray ever shed over it, one thing that made labour light and sweet, — and this was the respect, affection, and gratitude of the men. No words can tell it rightly, for it was unbounded, and as long as we staid among them it never changed. Familiar as our presence became to them, though we were in and out of the wards day and night, they never forgut the respect due to our sex and position. Standing by those in bitter agony, 'when the force of old habits is great, or by those in the glow of returning health, or walking up the wards "among , orderlies and sergeants, never did a word which could offend a woman's ear fall upon ours. Even , in the barrack-yard, passing by the guard-room or entrances, where stood groups of soldiers smoking and idling, the moment we approached coarseness was hushed ; and this lasted not a week or a month, but the whole of my twelve-months' residence ; and my experience is also that of all my companions. With some brilliant exceptions, the manner in which the war has been conducted lis a source of humiliation to England ; but yet she has something left to boast of in her noble sous — brave before their enemies, gentle to their countrywomen — yes, many a time have our hearts bounded with joyful pride in our countrymen. Many instances of tneir nobility of character might be given ; we select the most remarkable as we pass through each ward. In No. 3 lower was M ;he was the only one seriously ill in j the ward, so that a lady sat up one night for his sake only : this he knew, and he was quite distresj sed about it, and did nothing but cry, for he was j very weak. 'Really, M /said she, 'it is useless j for me to sit up if you are going to make yourself ill about ifc in this foolish way. I am quite strong enough to sit up till the morning, when I shall go to bed ; but it is mere waste of time to come if you are going to cry in this way all night.' ' I can't abear it,' | said he, 'to see you running about and tiring yourself for me.' At length she succeeded in quieting him : and when the morning came, finding him better, she left him. Shortly after, the lady of the ward came in to her daily work, when he eagerly inquired after bis night-nurse; and though he was assured of her perfect health and well-being, again did his tears begin to flow at the remembrance of what he had taken into his head was such very bard work. He was an orphan, and on his return to England had no home but the workhouse : his constitution being shattered, we fear, for ever. Perhaps it was his lonely lot in this world that made him cling to us, and seem so astonished at any one caring for his comfort. It was the look of surprise on his face when he first came down from the Crimea, at the least little act of kindness, that affected one more than anything : he had evidently not been much accustomed* to receive it through life : but he always said, with a smile on hi 3 face, that it was 'All right; — God knew best.' In this ward was Walter, a little drummer-boy about twelve ; he was a pretty child, with a ie m.rkably clear sweet voice, and had been admitted into the MHging-class ; he | was very much spoiled by the soldiers, and had grown saucy and couceited. He caught fever, and i came into No. 3 ward. \\ hen he was getting ! better, he said to the lady, 'I have been a very ! naughty boy before I was ill, but I tuean to change j now. 1 promised father, when I came away, that ] I would read the BUple every day and say my ( prayers : and I hay« kept my promise in a sort of , way, for I always did it; but then 1 chose out the i very shortest chapters, and said my prayers as fast as I could, just to get over it somehow : but I shan't do that again if I get well ' Afterwards he used to bring the lady beautiful flowers, as a childish mark of affection and gratitude for her having nursed him." The news of the death of Nicholas stimulated the wounded — is it to be wondered at? — like wine But let us first give two or three other "Hospital caaes" of suffering and character.

'he tenacity of life in poor Coony was wonderfil'j day after day, night after night, be lived nnd suffered on ; growing weaker and weaker. How his piteous moans went through the hearts of hi attendants, how terrible was it to watch the ci&tortion of agony on his young face. Poor boy! he was very patient, and he said he knew "it was best for him, or the good God would not send him luch suffering, and his trust was in him," and he '(lid try to be patient. We used to tempt hirnwith the best of the little at our disposal, for Vr Temple ordered him anything he could fancy. At length eggs, beaten up with wine, were the only thing he could swallow, and until ten minutes before his death his nurse fed him with this Death came at last, and be passed away as a child falls asleep, and with an intense relief did his attendants watch the calm, peaceful look on those features so long tortured with agony. One did not gaze long ; in half-an-hour (and that was longer than usual) he was wrapped in his blanket, and carried to the dead-house. Then there was poor Flack ; he suffered too, we thought, the extent of human suffering. He was covered with sores, one foot off, and two toes off the other ; he was ordered anything he liked, but in vain : he was in too much pain to eat, he"cared for nothin' — nothin' would save him." One day he said, "Tell me what T could eat -a bit of apple-pudding!" But, oh doar ! we though t,how was it to be got ? how get the flour and the apples ? and how get it boiled ? however, it was mnde, but he could hardly touch it, though he insisted on its being set down by bis side. Another man bad the same fancy, and he j ! declared it had "done him more pood than all the physic " Poor Flack died one night quite quietly, they told us. Fitzgerald we watched by many a time, expecting to see him die ; be looked just like a corpse; his strength was utterly gone. | Among so many interesting cases he was one! distinguished from all others, not only by his j patience, but cheerfulness. He was an Irishman I all over, always merry, and making the best of everything; his gratitude for being waited upon was great. Even when apparently in a dying state, he would look up into our faces and smile. He i lingered on, his doctors having no hope of his . recovery ; it seemed impossible he could rally from such a shock. However, he did ; liis improvement at first was very gradual, but three months afterwards we had the satisfaction of seeing him leave the hospital for England, though of course a cripple still, as stout and rosy as one could wish to see ; his face quite radiant with happiness at the thought of going back to "ould Ireland." Each ward contained at that time sixty beds, and to give an idea how crowded we were it is enough to say that the number was afterwards reduced to thirty. Kaeh patient lay on a low trestled bed, raised a few inches from the ground. The news of the death of the Emperor of Russia came upon us' with startling effect. Miss Stanley went through the wards and announced it to the men. "Long life to ye !" said many of the Irish, in a tone of congratulation, as though we had been the instruments of his death "It is better than a month's pay!" said another, and "God be praised !" cried many a sufferer. It was curious enough that the day of the death of the emperor was signalised by an earthquake of a very violent nature That scene will never be forgotten by those who witnessed it. It occurred about three o'clock in the afternoon. The day before a heavy mist hung over the Bosphorus — a very unusual thing for Turkey. The hospital was shaken most violently ; an instmt rush was made by the nurses for the barrack-yard Many of the poor patients jumped out of their beds, and forgetting their sufferings in their terror, ran down the wards with fearful cries, and when the immediate eicitoment was over, were unable to return to their beds without assistance. The clocks fell from the walls, and innumerable articles rolled about in great confuI sion. The extraordinary costumes of the patients and their exti'eme terror made the scene, awful as is was, almost ludicrous." Miss Smythe, one of the lady nurses, was one of the martyrs to her mission of mercy. "She had been the stay of the lady party till now, never having suffered in the least from sickness : she had the charge of the fever ward, and her labours there were great and unremitting : I never saw a person more zealously devoted to her woik. She, as well as the others, almost lived in her ward ; her whole thought seemed to be for her patients — she fed them and waited upon them with most attentive care. She caught a violent cold so as to quite take away her voice We begged of her to stay at home and nurse ; but if she had, no one could have taken her place in the fever wai*d, and leave her men she would not. She went and stayed all day as usual, and would come back at tea time looking most worn and fatigued, and but with difficulty was persuaded to give up her evening rounds, which another undertook to attend to in addition to her own, while Miss Smythe went to bed. After going round the long fever ward with night drinks, this lady was about to return home, when a poor man raised himself up and said, "Is not that ere lady a coming here to-night ?" She explained the reason of her absence. "But is not she a , ! cooking something for me ?" No, she was not "Well," said he, lying down again with a resigned look, "I be very hungry." The lady went back to quarters and asked Miss Smythe. She said be was very weak and ordered by the medical officer anything he fancied It was so late the kitchen was closed ; however, we contrived to take him a little of Mr. Gamble's soup, and he wns delighted, and said it was the "beautifulest" thing he had ever tasted For some days longer Miss Smythe struggled on, till at length she gave in of her own accord, and stayed in bed one day. On that day letters reached us announcing that in a fortnight or three weeks a staff of ladies and nurses for Koulali would arrive. The news raised our fainting spirits — poor Miss Smythe especially expressed much pleasure. It was the la^t conscious thing we heard her say. Next day fever came on, and delirium as usual followed. A very excellent n irse attended her, and most skilful surgeons ; all that could be done for her was dune, and though we knew her case was a most severe one, still we hoped on, for up to this time all the members of our staff attacked with fever had escaped death, though all had hung for days at its very point. On the 27th of March the chaplain of the church of England administered the communion to her ; she was partly conscious at the time. Throughout her illness she had always displayed great patience ; but she seldom spoke, and was constantly delirious All this day the doctors sp>>ke very badly of her case, but still she hoped against hope. March 28th I was in the act of distributing the dinners to the orderlies for tiieir wards, when the news of her death was brought to me, and it fell like the shock of a sadden death; and yet, such was our strange life at that time, I could not leave my employment, but was obliged to c unt out mutton-chops and lalf fowls till the hospital was served, and then vent upstairs to the room of death She died vithout a sigh, and in a state of unconsciousness She had suffered from a malignant form of typhus fever, and the surgeons said that interment the next day was absolutely necessary. Next day she was buried ; the coffin was covered with a white sheet, the orderlies of her ward carried her body

up the steep path which led from the hospital to the grareyard. All the convalescents wished to follow, but the cold was thought too keen for them. Ourselves and the officers followed the coffin, and we laid her on the green hill-side far away from the old churchyards of England, but we felt the ground was in some sense sucred, from the noble and brave who rested there. A sudden chill came on us as we stood around her grave; the sun was sinking below the horizon, and lighting up distant Constantinople, the blue Bosphorus, and dark hills with its last glow. On one side lay in shade the Turkish cemetery, the sad token that we were in a stranger land. It was with a lonely feeling we laid her there, far away from friends and home, yet we knew God and His angels were as near, perhaps ever nearer, to the exiles. She was not forgotten in Koulali. Deep was the regret expressed by the patients in the fever wards at the sudden death of their kind attendant. Many tears were shed for her ; they spoke of her with real affection, and treasured up every instance of ber kindness and self-denial. We immediately placed a small wooden cross at the head of her grave, and one of the soldiers carved her initials on it. We put it thereto mark the spot till wo could learn the wishes of her relatives on the point. At their desire her grave was afterwards covered with a stone monument, bearing simply the inscription of her name and date of her death. No word of praise follows, as thus it is ever meet the Christian should rest — he needs it not ; for her the world's applause has passed away as shadows fleet before the sun. But We leave her in the humble hope that she will one day hear the words, "Inasmuch, as ye did it unto the least of these, ye did it unto Me." Besides the affecting history of the Eastern hospitals, the work contain* animated descriptions of eastern life The volumes are not all in shadow, but chequered with bursts of orient sunlight. They, however, will be principally valued for the fact that they are a touching record of one of the noblest episodes in the world's history; and more, in the history of woman's heart.