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Those clear tones were in no need of emphasis： 'I never heard her
raise her voice'； said one of her companions。 'Only when she had
spoken； it seemed as if nothing could follow but obedience。'
Once； when she had given some direction； a doctor ventured to
remark that the thing could not be done。 'But it must be done；'
said Miss Nightingale。 A chance bystander； who heard the words；
never forgot through all his life the irresistible authority of
them。 And they were spoken quietly very quietly indeed。
Late at night； when the long miles of beds lay wrapped in
darkness； Miss Nightingale would sit at work in her little room；
over her correspondence。 It was one of the most formidable of all
her duties。 There were hundreds of letters to be written to the
friends and relations of soldiers； there was the enormous mass of
official documents to be dealt with； there were her own private
letters to be answered； and； most important of all； there was the
composition of her long and confidential reports to Sidney
Herbert。 These were by no means official communications。 Her
soul； pent up all day in the restraint and reserve of a vast
responsibility； now at last poured itself out in these letters
with all its natural vehemence； like a swollen torrent through an
open sluice。 Here； at least； she did not mince matters。 Here she
painted in her darkest colours the hideous scenes which
surrounded her； here she tore away remorselessly the last veils
still shrouding the abominable truth。 Then she would fill pages
with recommendations and suggestions； with criticisms of the
minutest details of organisation； with elaborate calculations of
contingencies； with exhaustive analyses and statistical
statements piled up in breathless eagerness one on the top of the
other。 And then her pen； in the virulence of its volubility；
would rush on to the discussion of individuals； to the
denunciation of an incompetent surgeon or the ridicule of a self…
sufficient nurse。 Her sarcasm searched the ranks of the officials
with the deadly and unsparing precision of a machine…gun。 Her
nicknames were terrible。 She respected no one： Lord Stratford；
Lord Raglan； Lady Stratford； Dr。 Andrew Smith； Dr。 Hall； the
Commissary…General； the Purveyorshe fulminated against them
all。 The intolerable futility of mankind obsessed her like a
nightmare； and she gnashed her teeth against it。 'I do well to be
angry；' was the burden of her cry。 'How many just men were there
at Scutari？ How many who cared at all for the sick； or had done
anything for their relief？ Were there ten？ Were there five？ Was
there even one？' She could not be sure。
At one time； during several weeks； her vituperations descended
upon the head of Sidney Herbert himself。 He had misinterpreted
her wishes； he had traversed her positive instructions； and it
was not until he had admitted his error and apologised in abject
terms that he was allowed again into favour。 While this
misunderstanding was at its height； an aristocratic young
gentleman arrived at Scutari with a recommendation from the
Minister。 He had come out from England filled with a romantic
desire to render homage to the angelic heroine of his dreams。 He
had； he said； cast aside his life of ease and luxury； he would
devote his days and nights to the service of that gentle lady； he
would perform the most menial offices； he would 'fag' for her； he
would be her footman and feel requited by a single smile。 A
single smile； indeed； he had； but it was of an unexpected kind。
Miss Nightingale at first refused to see him； and then； when she
consented； believing that he was an emissary sent by Sidney
Herbert to put her in the wrong over their dispute； she took
notes of her conversation with him； and insisted on his signing
them at the end of it。 The young gentleman returned to England by
the next ship。
This quarrel with Sidney Herbert was； however； an exceptional
incident。 Alike by him； and by Lord Panmure； his successor at the
War Office； she was firmly supported； and the fact that during
the whole of her stay at Scutari she had the Home Government at
her back； was her trump card in her dealings with the hospital
authorities。 Nor was it only the Government that was behind her：
public opinion in England early recognised the high importance of
her mission； and its enthusiastic appreciation of her work soon
reached an extraordinary height。 The Queen herself was deeply
moved。 She made repeated inquiries as to the welfare of Miss
Nightingale； she asked to see her accounts of the wounded； and
made her the intermediary between the throne and the troops。 'Let
Mrs。 Herbert know；' she wrote to the War Minister； 'that I wish
Miss Nightingale and the ladies would tell these poor noble；
wounded； and sick men that NO ONE takes a warmer interest or
feels MORE for their sufferings or admires their courage and
heroism MORE than their Queen。 Day and night she thinks of her
beloved troops。 So does the Prince。 Beg Mrs。 Herbert to
communicate these my words to those ladies； as I know that our
sympathy is much valued by these noble fellows。' The letter was
read aloud in the wards by the Chaplain。 'It is a very feeling
letter；' said the men。
And so the months passed； and that fell winter which had begun
with Inkerman and had dragged itself out through the long agony
of the investment of Sebastopol； at last was over。 In May； 1855；
after six months of labour； Miss Nightingale could look with
something like satisfaction at the condition of the Scutari
hospitals。 Had they done nothing more than survive the terrible
strain which had been put upon them； it would have been a matter
for congratulation； but they had done much more than that they
had marvellously improved。 The confusion and the pressure in the
wards had come to an end； order reigned in them； and cleanliness；
the supplies were bountiful and prompt； important sanitary works
had been carried out。 One simple comparison of figures was enough
to reveal the extraordinary change： the rate of mortality among
the cases treated had fallen from forty…two percent to twenty…two
per 1；000。 But still； the indefatigable lady was not satisfied。
The main problem had been solved the physical needs of the men
had been provided for； their mental and spiritual needs remained。
She set up and furnished reading…rooms and recreation rooms。 She
started classes and lectures。 Officers were amazed to see her
treating their men as if they were human beings； and assured her
that she would only end by 'spoiling the brutes'。 But that was
not Miss Nightingale's opinion； and she was justified。 The
private soldier began to drink less and even though that seemed
impossible to save his pay。 Miss Nightingale became a banker
for the Army； receiving and sending home large sums of money
every month。 At last； reluctantly； the Government followed suit；
and established machinery of its own for the remission of
money。Lord Panmure； however； remained s