"A fine handsome child, with flashing black eyes!" Thus was Elizabeth
Gilbert described at her birth in 1826; but at the age of three an
attack of scarlet fever deprived her of eyesight; and thenceforth, for
upwards of fifty years, the beautiful things in the world were seen by
her no more.
Her parents were most anxious that she should take part in all that
was going on in the household, in order that she should feel her
misfortune as little as possible. So she lived in the midst of the
family circle, sharing in their sports, their meals, and their
entertainments, and being treated just as one of the others; yet with
a special care and devotion by her father, Dr. Gilbert, whose heart
went out in deep love towards his little sightless daughter.
Bessie was fond of romping games, and preferred by far getting a few
knocks and bumps to being helped or guided by others when she was at
play. She was by nature passionate, yet she gradually subdued this
failing. She was a general favourite; and, when any petition had to be
asked of father, it was always Bessie who was put forward to do it, as
the children knew how good were her chances of being successful in her
mission.
She was educated just like other girls, except that her lessons were
read to her. She made great progress, and was a very apt pupil in
French, German, and other subjects; but arithmetic she cordially
disliked. Imagine for an instant the drudgery of working a long
division sum with leaden type and raised, figures; think of all the
difficulty of placing the figures, and the chances of doing the sum
wrong; and then it will not cause surprise that the blind girl could
never enjoy arithmetic, although in mental calculation she showed
herself later on to be very clever.
When she was about ten years old, the Duchess of Kent and the Princess
Victoria visited Oxford, where Bessie then lived with her parents.
On her return home Bessie exclaimed: "Oh, mamma, I have _seen_ the
Duchess of Kent, and she had on a brown silk dress". Indeed, the child
had such a vivid imagination that she saw mentally the scenes and
people described to her.
And, so though no glimmer of light from the sun reached her, the child
was not dull or unhappy. She listened to the birds with delight, and
knew their songs; she loved flowers and liked people to describe them
to her; and she was fond of making expeditions to the fields and
meadows.
But as Bessie grew up she began to feel some of the sadness and
loneliness natural to her lot. Her sisters could no longer be
constantly with her as in the nursery days; and though she made no
complaint, nor spoke of it to those around her, yet she felt it none
the less keenly.
By this time her father had become Bishop of Chichester.
When Bessie was twenty-seven years old an idea was suggested which
was the means of giving her an object in life, and affording her an
opportunity of doing a great work for the blind.
It was her sister Mary who first spoke about it, having seen with
sorrow how changed the once happy blind sister had become, and longing
to lighten her burden.
Bessie listened to the facts which were set before her of the need
that existed for some one to give a helping hand to the blind in
London. She made many inquiries into the condition of the sightless,
and then thought out a scheme for helping them.
Some of her friends considered it a great mistake for her to undertake
such a mission. "Don't work yourself to death," said one of her
acquaintances.
"Work to death!" she replied with a happy laugh. "I am working to
life."
But if a few were opposed, her parents, brothers, sisters, and the
majority of those she loved, were in hearty sympathy.
So in May, 1854, Bessie commenced her life work. Seven blind men were
given employment at their own homes in London; materials were supplied
to them at cost price, they manufactured them, and received the full
price that the articles were sold for.
This, of course, entailed a loss; but Bessie had been left a legacy
by her godmother, which gave her an income of her own, and a large
portion of this she continued to devote throughout her life to helping
the blind.
A cellar was rented in New Turnstile Street, Holborn, at a charge of
eighteenpence a week. A manager, named Levy, was engaged at a salary
of half a crown a week and a commission on sales. He was a blind man
himself, and a blind carpenter was engaged to assist in making the
storehouse presentable.
It was a small beginning, certainly, but it was not long ere Levy's
wages were largely increased, and trade began to grow in response to
Miss Gilbert's efforts. From the cellar in Holborn a move was made to
a better room, costing half a crown a week; and then, within little
more than a year from the commencement, a house and shop were taken at
a rent of £26 a year.
The increase in expenses as the scheme developed rendered it necessary
to ask for public assistance. By the bishop's advice a committee was
formed, and money collected.
By 1856, Miss Gilbert thought her work far enough advanced to bring it
under the notice of Her Majesty, who, having asked for and received
full particulars, sent a very kind letter of encouragement with a
donation of £50.
This gracious acknowledgment of the work in which Miss Gilbert was
engaged not only gave sincere pleasure to the blind lady herself, but
helped on her scheme immensely. And the Queen did more than contribute
money: orders for work were sent from Windsor Castle, Osborne and
Balmoral; and the blind people delighted in saying that they were
making brooms for the Queen. The benefit to the blind was not confined
to what Miss Gilbert was doing herself, but general interest in their
welfare was excited in all parts of the kingdom.
Naturally, many difficulties had to be encountered. Blind people
applied for work who wished for alms instead; and arrangements
necessary for carrying out so large a scheme entailed a good deal of
labour on Miss Gilbert's part. Yet she was very happy in her mission,
which attracted numerous friends occupying positions of eminence.
Miss Gilbert herself gave £2000 to the Association as an endowment
fund, and others contributed liberally too. One day a strange old lady
came to see her, and left with her £500 in bank notes. She did not
even give her name; and a further gift of £500 was received the same
year from a gentleman who felt interested in the work.
Up to the close of her life, which ended in 1885, Elizabeth
Gilbert continued to take an active interest in the affairs of the
Association. Notwithstanding her own weak and failing health she
laboured on, winning the love and gratitude of the blind, and
accomplishing a great work of which any one might feel justly proud.