eminent victorians-第40章

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its　destruction；　the　commonplaces　of　the　moral　judgment　are

better　left　unmade。　If　Miss　Nightingale　had　been　less　ruthless；

Sidney　Herbert　would　not　have　perished；　but　then；　she　would　not

have　been　Miss　Nightingale。　The　force　that　created　was　the　force

that　destroyed。　It　was　her　Demon　that　was　responsible。　When　the

fatal　news　reached　her；　she　was　overcome　by　agony。　In　the

revulsion　of　her　feelings；　she　made　a　worship　of　the　dead　man's

memory；　and　the　facile　instrument　which　had　broken　in　her　hand

she　spoke　of　forever　after　as　her　'Master'。　Then；　almost　at　the

same　moment；　another　blow　fell　on　her。　Arthur　Clough；　worn　out　by

labours　very　different　from　those　of　Sidney　Herbert；　died　too：

never　more　would　he　tie　up　her　parcels。　And　yet　a　thirddisaster

followed。　The　faithful　Aunt　Mai　did　not；　to　be　sure；　die；　no；　she

did　something　almost　worse：　she　left　Miss　Nightingale。　She　was

growing　old；　and　she　felt　that　she　had　closer　and　more　imperative

duties　with　her　own　family。　Her　niece　could　hardly　forgive　her。

She　poured　out；　in　one　of　her　enormous　letters；　a　passionate

diatribe　upon　the　faithlessness；　the　lack　of　sympathy；　the

stupidity；　the　ineptitude　of　women。　Her　doctrines　had　taken　no

hold　among　them；　she　had　never　known　one　who　had　appris　a

apprendre；　she　could　not　even　get　a　woman　secretary；　'they　don't

know　the　names　of　the　Cabinet　Ministersthey　don't　know　which　of

the　Churches　has　Bishops　and　which　not'。　As　for　the　spirit　of

self…sacrifice；　wellSidney　Herbert　and　Arthur　Clough　were　men；

and　they　indeed　had　shown　their　devotion；　but　women！　She　would

mount　three　widow's　caps　'for　a　sign'。　The　first　two　would　be　for

Clough　and　for　her　Master；　but　the　third'the　biggest　widow's

cap　of　all'would　be　for　Aunt　Mai。　She　did　well　to　be　angry；　she

was　deserted　in　her　hour　of　need；　and　after　all；　could　she　be

sure　that　even　the　male　sex　was　so　impeccable？　There　was　Dr。

Sutherland；　bungling　as　usual。　Perhaps　even　he　intended　to　go　off

one　of　these　days；　too？　She　gave　him　a　look；　and　he　shivered　in

his　shoes。　No！she　grinned　sardonically；　she　would　always　have

Dr。　Sutherland。　And　then　she　reflected　that　there　was　one　thing

more　that　she　would　always　have　her　work。



IV



SIDNEY　HERBERT'S　death　finally　put　an　end　to　Miss　Nightingale's

dream　of　a　reformed　War　Office。　For　a　moment；　indeed；　in　the

first　agony　of　her　disappointment；　she　had　wildly　clutched　at　a

straw；　she　had　written　to　M。　Gladstone　to　beg　him　to　take　up　the

burden　of　Sidney　Herbert's　work。　And　Mr。　Gladstone　had　replied

with　a　sympathetic　account　of　the　funeral。



Succeeding　Secretaries　of　State　managed　between　them　to　undo　a

good　deal　of　what　had　been　accomplished；　but　they　could　not　undo

it　all；　and　for　ten　years　more　（1862…72）　Miss　Nightingale

remained　a　potent　influence　at　the　War　Office。　After　that；　her

direct　connection　with　the　Army　came　to　an　end；　and　her　energies

began　to　turn　more　and　more　completely　towards　more　general

objects。　Her　work　upon　hospital　reform　assumed　enormous

proportions；　she　was　able　to　improve　the　conditions　in

infirmaries　and　workhouses；　and　one　of　her　most　remarkable　papers

forestalls　the　recommendations　of　the　Poor　Law　Commission　of

1909。　Her　training；　school　for　nurses；　with　all　that　it　involved

in　initiative；　control；　responsibillity；　and　combat；　would　have

been　enough　in　itself　to　have　absorbed　the　whole　efforts　of　at

least　two　lives　of　ordinary　vigour。　And　at　the　same　time　her　work

in　connection　with　India；　which　had　begun　with　the　Sanitary

Commission　on　the　Indian　Army；　spread　and　ramified　in　a　multitude

of　directions。　Her　tentacles　reached　the　India　Office　and

succeeded　in　establishing　a　hold　even　upon　those　slippery　high

places。　For　many　years　it　was　de　rigueur　for　the　newly　appointed

Viceroy；　before　he　left　England；　to　pay　a　visit　to　Miss

Nightingale。



After　much　hesitation；　she　had　settled　down　in　a　small　house　in

South　Street；　where　she　remained　for　the　rest　of　her　life。　That

life　was　a　very　long　one；　the　dying　woman　reached　her　ninety…

first　year。　Her　ill　health　gradually　diminished；　the　crises　of

extreme　danger　became　less　frequent；　and　at　last　altogether

ceased；　she　remained　an　invalid；　but　an　invalid　of　a　curious

characteran　invalid　who　was　too　weak　to　walk　downstairs　and　who

worked　far　harder　than　most　Cabinet　Ministers。　Her　illness；

whatever　it　may　have　been；　was　certainly　not　inconvenient。　It

involved　seclusion；　and　an　extraordinary；　an　unparalleled

seclusion　was；　it　might　almost　have　been　said；　the　mainspring　of

Miss　Nightingale's　life。　Lying　on　her　sofa　in　the　little　upper

room　in　South　Street；　she　combined　the　intense　vitality　of　a

dominating　woman　of　the　world　with　the　mysterious　and　romantic

quality　of　a　myth。　She　was　a　legend　in　her　lifetime；　and　she　knew

it。　She　tasted　the　joys　of　power；　like　those　Eastern　Emperors

whose　autocratic　rule　was　based　upon　invisibility；　with　the

mingled　satisfactions　of　obscurity　and　fame。



And　she　found　the　machinery　of　illness　hardly　less　effective　as　a

barrier　against　the　eyes　of　men　than　the　ceremonial　of　a　palace。

Great　statesmen　and　renowned　generals　were　obliged　to　beg　for

audiences；　admiring　princesses　from　foreign　countries　found　that

they　must　see　her　at　her　own　time；　or　not　at　all；　and　the

ordinary　mortal　had　no　hope　of　ever　getting　beyond　the　downstairs

sitting…room　and　Dr。　Sutherland。　For　that　indefatigable　disciple

did；　indeed；　never　desert　her。　He　might　be　impatient；　he　might　be

restless；　but　he　remained。　His　'incurable　looseness　of　thought'；

for　so　she　termed　it；　continued　at　her　service　to　the　end。　Once；

it　is　true；　he　had　actually　ventured　to　take　a　holiday；　but　he

was　recalled；　and　he　did　not　repeat　the　experiment。　He　was　wanted

downstairs。　There　he　sat；　transacting　business　answering

correspondence；　interviewing　callers；　and　exchanging　innumerable

notes　with　the　unseen　power　above。　Sometimes　word　came　down　that

Miss　Nightingale　was　just　well　enough　to　see　one　of　her　visitors。

The　fortunate　man　was　led　up；　was　ushered；　trembling；　into　the

shaded　chamber；　and；　of　course；　could　never　afterwards　forget　the

interview。　Very　rarely；　indeed；　once　or　twice　a　year；　perhaps；

but　nobody　could　be　quite　certain；　in　deadly　secrecy；　Miss

Nightingale　went　out　for　a　drive　in　the　Park。　Unrecognised；　the

living　legend　flitted　for　a　moment　before　the　common　gaze。　And

the　precaution　was　necessary；　for　there　were　times　when；　at　some

public　function；　the　rumour　of　her　presence　was　spread　abroad；

and　ladies；　mistaken　by　the　crowd　for　Miss　Nightingale；　were

followed；　pressed　upon；　vehemently　supplicated　'Let　me　touch　your

shawl'；　'Let　me　stroke　your　arm'；　such　was　the　strange　adoration

in　the　hearts　of　the　people。　That　vast　reserve　of　force　lay　there

behind　her；　she　could　use　it；　if　she　could。　But　she　preferred

never　to　use　it。　On　occasions；　she　might　hint　or　threaten；　she

might　balance　the　sword　of　Damocles　over　the　head　of　the　Bison；

she　might；　by　a　word；　by　a　glance；　remind　some　refractory

Minister；　some　unpersuadable　Viceroy；　sitting　in　audience　with

her　in　the　little　upper　room；　that　she　was　something　more　than　a

mere　sick　woman；　that　she　had　only；　so　to　speak；　to　go　to　the

window　and　wave　her　handkerchief；　for　。。。　dreadful　things　to

follow。　But　that　was　enough；　they　understood；　the　myth　was　there…

…obvious；　portentous；　impalpable；　and　so　it　remained　to　the　last。



With　statesmen　and　governors　at　her　beck　and　call；　with　her　hands

on　a　hundred　strings；　with　mighty　provinces　at　her　feet；　with

foreign　governments　agog　for　her　counsel；　building　hospitals；

training　nurses　she　still　felt　that　she　had　not　enough　to　do。

She　sighed　for　more　worlds　to　conquermore；　and　yet　more。



She　looked　about　herwhat　was　left？　Of　course！　Philosophy！　After

the　world　of　action；　the　world　of　thought。　Having　set　right　the

health　of　the　British　Army；　she　would　now　do　the　same　good

service　for　the　religious　convictions　of　mankind。　She　had　lon