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FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE
[Moore’s Rural New Yorker, 17July 1858]
But by-and-by the drawing-room doors are thrown open, and the ambassadress enters, smiling a kind and gracious welcome. Behind her are her daughters; by her side a tall, fashionable, haughty beauty. I could not help thinking how beautiful she looked; but the next instant my eyes wandered from her cold unamiable face to a lady modestly standing on the other side of Lady Stratford. At first I thought she was a nun, from her black dress and close cap. She was not introduced, and yet Edmund and I looked at each other at the same moment to whisper, “It is Miss Nightingale!”- Yes, it was Florence Nightingale, greatest of all in name and honor among women. I assure you that I was glad not to be obliged to speak just then, for I felt quite dumb as I looked at her wasted figure and the short brown hair combed over her forehead like a child’s, cut so when her life was despaired of from fever but a short time ago.- Her dress, as I have said was black, made high to the throat, its only ornament being a large enamelled broach which looked to me like the colors of a regiment surrounded with a wreath of laurels, no doubt some grateful offering from our men. To hide the close white cap a little, she had tied a white crepe handkerchief over the back of it, only allowing the border of lace to be seen, and this gave the nun-like appearance which first struck me on her entering the room, otherwise Miss Nightingale is no way striking in appearance. Only her plain black dress, quiet manner and great renown told so powerfully altogether in that assembly of brilliant dress and uniforms. She is very slight, rather above the middle height, her face is long and thin but this might be from recent illness and great fatigue. She has a very prominent nose, slightly Roman; and small dark eyes, kind yet penetrating; but her face does not give you at all the idea of great talent.- Mrs. Hornby’s Court of the Sultan.
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