Chapter I.

LESSONS

_from_

THE LIFE OF

Florence Nightingale

_By_ CHARLOTTE A. AIKENS

_Author of_ “Hospital Training School Methods and

the Head Nurse,” “Primary Studies for Nurses,”

“Clinical Studies for Nurses,” “Studies in Ethics for

Nurses,” etc. _Joint Author of_ Hospital Management.

_Editor_ “The Trained Nurse and Hospital Review.”

[Illustration]

Lakeside Publishing Company

38-40 West 32nd St.

New York.

[Illustration: FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

Born in Florence, Italy, May 12th, 1820; died in London

August 13th, 1910]

SANTA FILOMENA

_By_ HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

Whene’er a noble deed is wrought

Whene’er is spoke a noble thought

Our hearts, in glad surprise,

To higher levels rise.

The tidal wave of deeper souls

Into our inmost being rolls

And lifts us unawares

Out of all meaner cares.

Honor to those whose words or deeds

Thus help us in our daily needs.

And by their overflow

Raise us from what is low!

Thus thought I, as by night I read

Of the great army of the dead,

The trenches cold and damp,

The starved and frozen camp.

The wounded from the battle-plain

In dreary hospitals of pain,

The cheerless corridors,

The cold and stony floors.

Lo! in that house of misery

A lady with a lamp I see

Pass through the glimmering gloom,

And flit from room to room.

And slow, as in a dream of bliss,

The speechless sufferer turns to kiss

Her shadow, as it falls,

Upon the darkening walls.

As if a door in heaven should be

Opened and then closed suddenly,

The vision came and went,

The light shone and was spent.

On England’s annals, through the long

Hereafter of her speech and song

That light its rays shall cast

From portals of the past.

A Lady with a Lamp shall stand

In the great history of the land

A noble type of good

Heroic womanhood.

Nor even shall be wanting here

The palm, the lily and the spear

The symbols that of yore

Saint Filomena bore.

Lessons from the Life of

Florence Nightingale

Chapter I.

The presence of thousands of daughters of Florence Nightingale in

the regions devastated by the great world war, and the great service

to humanity which they have rendered, have turned the thoughts of

many to that other battlefield where the great need of the world for

trained nurses was first impressed on the hearts of the people--an

impression never to be effaced while there are suffering human beings

requiring skilled care and service.

Sixty odd years ago, at the outbreak of the Crimean war there were no

women nurses to minister to those who had been wounded in the service

of their country. Woman’s ministry was sorely needed but not wanted

by those in active command of military affairs at the seat of war.

It remained for Florence Nightingale to teach the world one of its

greatest lessons--a lesson from which future generations will reap

increasing benefits. When the Crimean war closed, the foundation was

begun on which the structure of modern nursing was to be reared.

In every age, the world has had its heroes, and Florence Nightingale

would have been the last to wish to give the impression that there

were not many splendid women devoting themselves to the care of the

sick long before she was born. They were not trained women according

to modern ideals of training, but there were women of gentle birth

and breeding, refined and accomplished who served the sick with

singleness of heart and rare devotion. The world will always owe its

debt of gratitude to the Roman Catholic Sisters and the Deaconesses

of other churches, whose tender ministries to the sick in hospitals

and home, did much to lessen the sum of human suffering in the years

before Miss Nightingale’s great work was begun.

No one who reads the story of the beautiful life of Florence

Nightingale can fail to be impressed with the fact that the dominant

motive of that life was--SERVICE. It has been aptly said that one of

the first and most important lessons that a nurse needs to learn, is

to spell SELF with a little s. In this she has a worthy example for

forgetfulness of self seems to have been characteristic of Florence

Nightingale all through her life. Service to humanity--especially

service to the sick and distressed part of humanity--seems to have

made its strong appeal to her almost from childhood. Organization

for service, education and training for service, plans for service

in a hundred different ways--filled her life, and the story of her

many-sided activities, as revealed by her official biographer--has

been a surprise to those who have thought of her only in connection

with nursing. While she will always be best remembered as the founder

of modern nursing, her great efforts in improving sanitary conditions

in India, in which she labored unceasingly for many years with

officials in the War Department, and her work in behalf of reform in

the management of workhouses in England, were closely interwoven with

her work in behalf of better nursing for the sick. Her voluminous

correspondence and her literary work seem in themselves to have been

sufficient to occupy her full time, after her return from the Crimea.

The popular idea of Florence Nightingale has been drawn largely from

the pen picture of Longfellow in Santa Filomena, but it is far from

being a true picture of her life. To fully appreciate her character

and influence one must study to some extent, not alone the social

and sanitary conditions that prevailed in her earlier life, but

the habits of thought and even the etiquette of the times, during

which her chief work was being accomplished. Of these conditions her

biographer says:

“Now that the fruits of Florence Nightingale’s pioneer work have been

gathered, and that nursing is one of the recognized occupations for

gentlewomen, it is not altogether easy to realize the difficulties

which stood in her way. The objections were moral and social, in

large measure rooted to conventional ideas. Gentlewomen, it was

felt, would be exposed, if not to danger and temptations, at least

to undesirable and unfitting conditions. ‘It was as if I had wanted

to be a kitchen maid,’ Miss Nightingale herself said in later years.

Nothing is more tenacious than social prejudice. But the prejudice

was in part founded on very intelligible reasons and in part was

justified by the level of nursing as an occupation at that time.

It will suffice to say that though there were better-managed and

worse-managed hospitals, yet there was strong evidence to show

that hospital nurses had opportunities which they freely used, for

‘putting the bottle to their lips’ when so disposed, also that other

evils were more or less prevalent.

“The more she heard of the worst, the more was Florence Nightingale

resolved to make things better; but the more her parents heard, the

greater and more natural was their repugnance. Somebody must do the

rough pioneer work of the world; but one can understand how the

parents of an attractive daughter, to whom their own life at home

seemed to them to open many possibilities of comfortable happiness,

came to desire that in this case the somebody should be somebody

else.”

It is difficult to study her life without feeling that she was sent

into the world especially to accomplish the great tasks to which

in early middle life, her powers were chiefly devoted. It should,

however, be always remembered that during this period others besides

Miss Nightingale were making their contribution to better nursing and

better sanitary conditions in hospitals, and in the world outside.

Lord Lister, who ushered in the new era of antiseptic surgery,

was seven years younger than Florence Nightingale. “He and she,

each in the manner in which Nature or Providence fitted them, were

simultaneously inaugurating the new era, he the foster father, she

the foster mother of myriads of this generation and unthinkable

millions of those who are to be. His methods demanded the trained

nurse both for surgery and midwifery, both for the battlefield where

life is destroyed, and for the lying-in room where it is ushered into

separate existence. Her work was to provide the training and the

principles, the ideals, the enthusiasm, and the tiniest, humblest

details, whereby the modern nurse is made.”

[Illustration: LORD LISTER]

Apart entirely from the generally undesirable type of women (there

were many exceptions) found in charge of the care of the sick when

Florence Nightingale began her work, were the generally undesirable

conditions which existed before Lord Lister’s antiseptic methods were

inaugurated in 1868. Erysipelas, gangrene, pyemia, and septicemia

were common complications of surgery and the death rate of maternity

patients in hospitals was appalling. A nurse who was one of the

pioneers in improving the care of the sick, thus describes her

experience when she entered for training in an English hospital:

“New methods of nursing as well as of surgery had to contend

with tremendous difficulties in the way of bad buildings, bad

ventilation, old-fashioned furniture, and lack of apparatus.

“The utensils, which in the hospitals of today are of white

earthenware or enamel, were of exceedingly battered tin, almost

entirely denuded of their original covering of black japan, and it

was absolutely impossible to keep some of them clean and sweet.

Smells abounded. I have seen a visiting surgeon run through a ward

to escape them, and during my first week I was much puzzled by the

existence of a horrible smell in one corner of the children’s ward. I

privately investigated the floor and under the beds, but could find

nothing to account for it, but discovered at last that it came from

a patient--a child with a diseased bone of the face, a case which

nowadays would be antiseptically treated and probably isolated.

“Under the old regime the nurses had, as a rule, no uniform dress,

and cooked their own meals, which they bought for themselves, in the

ward kitchens or scullery, and these conditions did not at once pass

away.

“The antiseptic treatment of wounds was coming into general use, and

the particular method of the moment, which had been advocated by Dr.

Lister, was a sort of model steam-engine, which could be carried

about and placed on a table or stand by the side of a patient’s

bed. When a wound was to be attended to, before the dressings were

removed a lamp in this apparatus was lighted. A strong spray of

diluted carbolic acid then played over the wound the whole time it

was being dressed, much to the discomfort of the doctors and nurses,

whose hands would be stiff with the carbolic and their ears dulled

with the constant hissing and fizzing of the machine. Everything was

saturated with carbolic at that time, wool, bandages, lint, gauze,

etc., but in the course of a few years this treatment was entirely

superseded.

“Operations were comparatively free and easy performances. We

nurses wore our ordinary dresses, and were kept busy washing

sponges, which were used again and again, though they were boiled

between the operation days. In the medical wards enteric cases were

indiscriminately mixed with others, and tuberculosis patients stalked

about and expectorated freely.”

Nurses of today, in common with the rest of the world, owe a greater

debt of gratitude than most of them realize to Lord Lister who, by

his surgical experiments, and his demand for trained nurses, helped

so much in laying the foundations for the trained nursing of today.

Other workers in the realm of bacteriology were aiding greatly in the

remarkable developments which medicine and surgery were making in

that period.

THE SPIRIT OF VOCATION.

An English writer, Miss Margaret Fox, in an address to nurses has

called attention to the great need of the spirit of vocation in the

nurses of today. “Look at it what way you will,” she states, “the

fact remains that nursing is work demanding something more than mere

business qualities, more than an active intelligence, more than even

sympathy and kindness of heart. The latter, precious though it is,

may be worn very threadbare in the constant daily contact with all

sorts of unlovely natures suffering from every variety of trying

ailment. Patients are not all grateful, or appreciative, and you will

find some of them by no means ready to kiss your shadow as you pass

on your rounds. Sometimes they are inclined to grumble because they

do not immediately get all they want. Their disease may make them

irritable, captious even, sometimes, repulsive. These people need

more than ordinary everyday good qualities in a nurse. They need one

who, over and above her professional ability, looks upon her work as

a vocation, ‘a calling by the will of God.’ It was that spirit which

made the best of the pioneers of other days what they were. Nursing

was undertaken by them as a definite life-work. It cost them so much

to enter upon it, that they were unlikely to throw it up without some

very cogent reason. Work was not then considered so much a means to

an end. It was the ultimate achievement. Nursing is a mission; and

wherever it is done, it needs the same spirit of true vocation to do

it well, and to persevere in spite of difficulties.

“There would be fewer restless, discontented nurses, if each

possessed the spirit of vocation. It is a spirit that gives one the

calm, quiet feeling of being in the only possible place and doing the

only possible work. It stirs in one a large-hearted charity towards

all such as be sorrowful, sick or poor. It makes one feel, ‘Well,

whoever fails, I must not.’ It helps wonderfully when things are

crooked and the work is hard, or uninteresting. One simply can’t help

making things look nice, or doing the little extra bit which just

makes all the difference.”

The motives which influence an individual to undertake a task are

tremendously important factors in real and full success, and it is

well, in such work as nursing, that all who enter on it analyze

carefully their own motives in so doing.

There can be no mistaking the motives which led Florence Nightingale

to enter on her career under the distressing conditions which

then prevailed. Born and reared in refined surroundings, in an

intellectual atmosphere, with all the educational advantages

the times afforded, if she had fulfilled parental and popular

expectations, she would have been satisfied to have spent her

girlhood life chiefly in a round of gay social functions, with ample

leisure for study and travel, and to have married at an early age a

man belonging to her own social circle. That she was not satisfied

with this sort of existence is seen in this typical extract from

one of her letters, written when she was twenty-six years of age:

“The thoughts and feelings that I have now,” she wrote, “I can

remember since I was six years old. It was not _I_ that made them. A

profession, a trade, a necessary occupation, something to fill and

employ all my faculties, I have always felt essential to me, I have

always longed for, consciously or not. * * * The first thought and

the last thought I can remember was nursing work, but for this I have

had no education myself. * * *” Later she wrote: “In my thirty-first

year I see nothing desirable but death. Why do I wish to leave this

world? God knows I do not expect a greater heaven beyond, but that He

would now set me down in St. Gile’s, or at a Kaiserwerth, there to

find my work, and my salvation in my work.”

To her, life was earnest--it was a serious thing, and her struggle

for many long, weary years to free herself, to overcome the obstacles

that closed in around her, so that she might accomplish the kind of

work she felt God wanted her to do--her long-continued effort to gain

her relatives’ consent for her to even attempt nursing--forms one of

the most interesting chapters in her life story. Nursing to her was

always “God’s business.”

How much this sense of vocation, this strong feeling that she was

called to do the will of God in this form of service, had to do

with her success, no one can fully determine, but that it helped

tremendously in carrying her over difficult places cannot be doubted.

As one looks back over her wonderful life and tries to discern the

secret of her remarkable influence, one cannot but feel that the

spirit in which she did her work, her absolute devotion to the cause

to which she was giving her best powers, accounts in large measure

for her name being honored, and her memory kept green all over the

civilized world. “The sweetest character in all British history,” was

a noted man’s comment on her, yet the sweetness was always combined

with strength, and courage, and a quiet determination not to give up

because things were harder or more difficult than she had expected.

Her work was not lightly undertaken, and as lightly abandoned, as

nursing is by many young women today.

One of the outstanding qualities of this great woman was her

individuality, a quality which some one has aptly said is close

kin to honesty. She did her own thinking, and the results of that

independent thinking were evident all through her career. In

commenting on this quality of individuality, a recent writer, Byron

H. Stauffer, has said:

“It burst out in a letter written when she was eight, which she

closes with: ‘My love to all except Miss W--.’ It developed in her

despising, early in life, the silly conventionalities of the high

society of the day. It sparkled in explaining why she tittered during

a ritualistic service: ‘The rector was praying “That it may please

Thee to have mercy on all men,” and the ridiculousness of that prayer

broke upon me. Think of it! If I asked you to have mercy on your own

boy, you’d knock me down.’ Another instance of her nonconformity to

the religious conventions lies in her declaration: ‘I never prayed

for George IV; I always thought that people were very, very good who

could pray for him. It was a wonder to me how he could possibly be

any worse if nobody prayed for him. I prayed a little for William IV.

For the young Victoria I prayed with rapture.’”

THE PRICE OF SKILL.

One of the tendencies of this age in nurses is to expect and apply

for positions of responsibility for which they have not taken any

special or definite pains to fit themselves. Their estimate of their

own ability is often much greater than conditions justify; they often

want the best positions without paying the price of special skill.

The determination of Florence Nightingale to secure for herself the

best instruction the world afforded at that time, and her conviction

that if she was ever to accomplish anything worth while she must

first learn all that was possible under the circumstances for her to

learn about the business of caring for the sick, is a fine example

for those who really desire to do worth while things in this world.

It has been well said that ability depends greatly on preparation,

and that opportunity is largely dependent on ability. It was by no

accident that Florence Nightingale became “the angel of the Crimea.”

Nothing that she could do to fit herself for such a task had been

omitted, though she could not know how great were the opportunities

that were to be afforded her to use the knowledge and experience

she was so determined to secure. She fully realized that to do good

required more than good desires or intentions. To do good in the way

that she wished required some skill. To be the best possible nurse,

to fit herself in the best way, however long it might take, or how

hard the way might be, meant much greater difficulties then than it

could possibly mean now.

When in later years she expressed herself as follows, she was simply

expressing the convictions which had been with her all through life:

“Nursing is an art, and if it is to be made an art, it requires as

hard preparation as is required for any painter’s or sculptor’s work;

for what is having to do with dead canvas or cold marble compared

with caring for the living body?”

How to obtain the needed skill was a problem which she had studied

for many years. The difficulties and moral dangers that stood in the

way of a refined woman securing experience in nursing in a hospital

seemed for years insuperable, and can hardly be appreciated by the

nurses of today.

AT KAISERWERTH.

Through a friend, Miss Nightingale learned of an institution for

deaconesses at Kaiserwerth, Germany, where there was a school, a

hospital and a prison, under the management of deaconesses. It had

a decidedly higher tone and reputation than prevailed in hospitals

in general, she was told; and Pastor Fliedner’s annual reports

of the work of the institution were eagerly studied, and used to

silence parental objections. The opportunity to spend a few months at

Kaiserwerth was delayed, but finally came when her mother and sister,

in search of health, went to Carlsbad, and to travel. In commenting

afterward on the new departure of giving some months of training in

the care of the sick, inaugurated at Kaiserwerth, Miss Nightingale

called special attention to the fact that the Kaiserwerth

institutions had begun, not with programs or fullfledged schemes

set forth in a prospectus, but with individual cases and personal

devotion--and later years showed that her own great work began,

also, not with a prospectus or prearranged program, but with actual

doing of the thing she felt needed to be done when the opportunity

came. The real training in nursing given at Kaiserwerth was far from

satisfactory to her, but the atmosphere, the spirit of consecrated

service, impressed her deeply.

Later she returned to Kaiserwerth for further apprenticeship in

nursing and followed this experience by spending some time in the

hospitals of Paris presided over by the Roman Catholic sisters.

It is very evident that she did not expect to have everything she

wished to know, prepared and presented to her to study. Her powers of

observation were wonderful, and she proved an indefatigable collector

of pamphlets, reports, statistics, methods of work and plans of

hospital organization and management.

One criticism which is often heard of present day nurses in

training is that they so quickly get into ruts in the matter of

observation--that they see so much in a hospital ward which they

fail to _perceive_--that they fail to gather practical knowledge

pertaining to their work which is all around them waiting to be

picked up. If Florence Nightingale had been the type of woman who had

to have all the nursing knowledge which she obtained duly imparted

to her by somebody else appointed for that purpose, her influence on

the conditions which then prevailed would have been small indeed.

Instead, she was constantly getting hold of facts, reading medical

books, continually studying into the “why” of things, and how they

might be improved, so that better general results might be obtained

in the care of the sick. Her private notebooks were filled with

facts, ideas, and suggestions gathered here, there and elsewhere,

which she was later to use in laying broad foundations for the

improvement of nursing, and of hospital management in general. Her

attention to small details, as found in her notebooks preserved to

the present day, was characteristic of all her work, and accounts in

no small degree for its success.

TACT AND SENSE OF HUMOR.

Among the indispensable qualities for successful nursing, we place

“TACT” very close to the top of the list. To get along with people

without friction, to get needful things done without arousing

antagonism, to have that keenness of perception, that ready power

of appreciating and of doing or saying what is most fitting under

the circumstances; to maintain, withal, that quality of mind

which enables one to see the humorous side to otherwise difficult

situations, are qualities to be coveted by every nurse.

How Florence Nightingale succeeded in managing committees with whom

she had to work, as well as the sense of humor which helped to carry

her over difficult situations, are admirably shown in extracts

from her private letters, written soon after she returned from

Kaiserwerth. She had been importuned to undertake the management of

an institution known as an “Establishment for Gentlewomen During

Illness,” which had been started, but had been so grossly mismanaged

that it had been threatened with closure. A change of location had

finally been decided on when Miss Nightingale agreed to undertake

its management. One of the first difficulties which confronted her

is described in the extract from a private letter to a friend which

follows:

“My committee refused me to take in Catholic patients--whereupon

I wished them good morning, unless I might also take in Jews and

their Rabbis to attend them. So now it is settled, _and in print_,

that we are to take in all denominations, whatever, and allow them

to be visited by their respective priests and Muftis, provided _I_

will receive (in any case whatsoever that is _not_ of the Church

of England) the obnoxious animal at the door, take him upstairs

myself, remain while he is conferring with his patient, make myself

responsible that he does not speak to, or look at, any one else, and

bring him downstairs in a noose, and out into the street. And to this

I have agreed! And this is in print!

“Amen. From committees, charity and schism--from the Church of

England and other deadly sins--from philanthropy and all the deceits

of the Devil--Good Lord deliver us!”

To her father in 1853, she wrote another characteristic letter

which affords a glimpse of the experience in “managing” people she

was getting at this time, and which was later to be most helpful

in her great task of helping to reorganize the affairs of the army

hospitals. In this letter, she says:

“You ask for my observations upon my line of statesmanship. I have

been so very busy that I have scarcely made any resume in my own mind.

“When I entered into service here, I determined that, happen what

would, I never would intrigue among the committees. Now I perceive

that I do all my business by intrigue. I propose in private to A, B

or C, the resolution I think A, B or C most capable of carrying in

committee, and then leave it to them, and I always win. * * * I have

observed that the opinions of others concerning you depend not at

all, or very little, upon what _you_ are, but upon what _they_ are.

“Last General Committee I executed a series of Resolutions on five

subjects and presented them as coming from medical men:

“1. That the successor to our house surgeon (resigned) should be a

dispenser, thus saving our bill at the druggists of 150 pounds per

annum.

“2. A series of House Rules, of which I send you the rough copy.

“3. A series of resolutions about not keeping patients.

“4. A complete revolution as to diet, which is shamefully abused at

present.

“5. An advertisement for the Institution.

“All these I proposed and carried in committee without telling them

that they came from me, and not from the medical men; and then, and

not till then, I showed them to the medical men, without telling them

that they were already passed in committee.

“It was a bold stroke, but success is said to make an insurrection

into a revolution. The medical men have had two meetings upon them

and approved them all, and thought they were their own. And I came

off with flying colors, no one suspecting my intrigue.

“I have also carried my point of having good, harmless Mr. ---- as

chaplain, and no young curate to have spiritual flirtations with my

young ladies. So much for the earthquakes in this little mole-hill of

ours.”

Happy though Miss Nightingale was in this new work, it did not offer

her the wide opportunity for training nurses, which she greatly

longed to do--somewhat along the lines pursued at Kaiserwerth.

[Illustration]

The Call to Service in the Crimean War

Lessons from the life of Florence Nightingale · 第 1 / 4 章