New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1858-02-15

sometime duriue the summer Of 1854, we noticed
The name Of this heroine and phiiAnthropst as one
Of the female volunteers nurse FOR the wounded
English soldiers in the great Eastern war we then
thought il an inappropriate calling for female and
even assented to the sighting remarks made by the
various medical journals such as petficod assistant
| surgeons etc. But while the world was ridiculiDg
| the woman the heroine was accnstoming herself to
The sight OF blood and CHASTITY wonnds buried in the
wards of hospital ohlivious OF the worlds calumny.
She cared not FOR the prating OF frivolous beings who
knew nothing of the God within who prompted her
actions. She has survived TO prove her mission and
enrol her name in ndelible characters the banner
of her country glory.
The 5th Of November, 1854, Miss Nightingale ar
rived the battle field, while the blood Of thousands
who fell in the unparalleled engagement at mixer
manu. was yet smoking with vital heat The hospi-
tails were crowded with the sick and dying. AT the
battle OF lnkermann alone, the English counted 1888
killed and wounded The English hospitals then con
tanned three thousand wounded soldiers What q
place for woman, The red earth sending its rivulets
ofblood gurgng the seattle surface Of the ground
covered by the sain--the cries of the wounded-the
frenzied mutterng Of thoe bereft of reasonthe dis
toTted forms of the mutilated deadthe shrieks and
oaths OF the combatauts together with the boom Of
the cannon and whistle Of deadly missiles, and all
shrouded in dense smoke, which yelled from heaven
the human slaughter. What place for woman, the
ministering angel of earth.
mixed multitude assembled on that field OF carnage ;
the newspaper reports OF the lily conditioned bar
racks and hospitals Of the allied forces together with
the inhospitable climate, was enough to deter the
bravest hearts from visiting the seat of the great
modern war, save under dire necessity What then
could prompt delicate woman to sacrifice home and
comfort for that field of carnage, that miniature hel
Bat this is not all In addition to the devastation
created by the hostile forces disease was sweeping
away in thousands. Typhus fever and cholera the
land, and small pox on the sea carried of their spois.
letter writer in june 1854 then in the barracks at
Scutari says those who are here are here against
4 wi nd wal atr
is alive with vermn The bugs here are at the rate
of three TO the ounce. Fleas brushed of the hap
less visitors clothes by thousands and there is no
lack of vermin Of still more disquieting kind,
against which the uniastidious private soldier muir
murs bittarlyp
On the arrival of Miss Nightingale, the medical
officers questioned her mission together with that Of
her thirtyseyen female Sisters Of Mercy. DR.. Smith
said be had no hesitation in believing it was highly
beneficial, as in laundry work, cooking, etc. Women
would discover many things that might escape mill
tary men," Bravely said, upon my soul. Was that
not an encominm for that sefsacrificing noble
woman, who had freely brayed misery and death to
administer comfort to her wounded and dying coun-
trymen. And yet, when she offers to attend to the
laundry work she is respectfully informed that there
is especial officer whose duty it is to see to the
laundry work. Florence Nightingae's mission was
too high too noble for her spirit TO trucke to little
repulses--it was mission OF mercy, and whatever
her hand found to do she did it in reference to the
ASeeing Eye and not for personal glory or aggran-
Independent, lived and acted. Wherever she found
the suffering and dying she was there to comfort and
bless by those lesser offices which endear TO the hearts
OF all men the merciul and the kind. When the can
ceased their laundering peas and the smoke Of
battle had ascended, her graceful form leap
ing Ger the bnlwark of dead and wounded FORMS ad-
ministering cup Of cold water to the dying and
weeping for them tears OF sympathy. Through the
dismal hours OF the night, rendered terrific by the
groans OF the suffering, when none expected to
watch the Pickering lamp of life but the humane
doctor, while night falls drearly on tent, camp and
field, there she still works and watches, and inspires
hope and confidence The charge, the rout, the
flying squsdrons, the glittering colors and other
pomp and cireumstaneesp of war are no doubt very
grand. The martial music Of the marching army, the
kings and generals and their staff ravish the senses Of
gazing world, but how far supreme to these in the
sight of God stands the Angel of Mercy and her
meek train OF humble followers. These have almost
sacrnced themselves 70 sense OF duty, while those
are sacrificed TO a lust for ambition and glory
Through the watches Of the night, Florence Nightin
gale constant vigils kept, and when the
all desire for sleep vanished before the innumerable
calls for action. Night after night, and day after
day, slumber was driven from her eyeds and fatigue
came not, for every sympathy of her nature was
aroused, her very soul was awake to her labor Of
love.
The last dread battle is fought-the Russians re.
treat the rains have washed the blood marks from
the earththe Vutures plume their wings to quit the
field of carnage, and the wrath of man is appeased
by blood Here and there disabled cannon and shat
tered small arms are scattered the field and all
is silent save the din from the camp OF the soldier.
Their work is complete. Quietly seated by their
camp fires, the officers number their gores the pri-
yate counts his trophies, and thoughts of home pos
sess them all as they anticipate the renown which
await them. Hard by stands the gloomy hospital, in
which death is still doing his work and there still at
her post, Florence Nightingale administers to the
wounded. Around her the heaps Of dead are lying
distended eyeballs glaring in the dim light-hlack
ened tongues protruding from the mouth-distorted
features with demoniac grin meet the gaze Of the
curious everywhere in this charne house. Discovered
limbs lie 10 confusion around and beds, foor and
furniture all are covered with human blood. sick.
ening stencil pervades the atmosphere-an atmos-
phere In which the wounded must live, and in which
their nurses must endure weary days and long and
anxious nights. 1t then Florence Nightingale
demonstrated her more than human character. She
endured that horrible life to the end, till the crippled
tottered oil on erutches Till the blind were led away
TIL the manned for life were safely quarered on a
vessel homeward bound. Then, and not till then, did
she cast wishiul eye to her peaceful home, where
all was quiet and all was joy. Her mission com
plete, and we imagine her seated (where the artist
has placed her in full view OF the ruins Of Sebasto-
| pol, and she reads
blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain
mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see
God''
testimonial has been voted to the English officers
for their distinguished services in the Crimean war
and one was mooted for Miss Nightingale though
40 not DelieYe II was passed by Parliament, but IN
Heaven lifting testimonial was passed and beralded
throughout the domain of the redeemed and Florence
Nightingale received the approval OF God, as one Of
the few who merited the appreciation of Heaven FOL
labor performed on that aecursed field of blood. Al
long as the dismembered bodies OF the English sol
/ ders shall exist--as long as those scattered and
SCARED warriors shall survive to rehearse to thei
chlldren's children the bloody deeds of the Crimea
aud long as their lineage shall last, so long will
the name of Florence Nightingale be saeredly pre-
served from oblivion, and blessed that of Ange
Of Mercy.
THE SHADOW ON TUE PILLow--By Jas. Baientine.
Borne helpless from the FIELD Of Aght
| Hewn deep with wounds and scars
/ prayed Heaven come and help the right,
/ Aud end the cruel wars.
/ swooned-I dreafnpt angel baud
| Bore me oor ocean biloNs;
| 1Woke-and Vol an angel hand
Was smoothing dswn my pillow.
'Twixt death and RIFE the day and night
Ny wound unconscious kept
OF all except those eyes ~ bright,
| That kindly watched aud wupt me,
/ And me. in that far land
Had waved tho weeping willow,
4 Had il not been the angel hand
/ Thai snoolhed tue soldiers pillow.
Oh earth but once heard such tale
4 So keasenly and 80 human,
i As tRS q Florence Nightingale,
The angel type In
/ What maryel that soldier tell,
] A but grateful fellow,
4 He Kissed her shadow tell
i Al midniehtoa bis pillow
DESTROYING THE NERVES OF TRErH BY EIEc
rprsa aHrtT. A. faN. "a,