“That’s what William’s father says. But there’s been a lot in the papers and there are people as thinks we ought to be out there fighting.”

“Well, let’s hope nothing comes of it.”

But when I saw the papers and read some of the comments, I could understand why Lily was worried. I realized that in Kaiserwald we had been cut off from world affairs and that we were nearer to war than I had imagined. The great powers of Europe had attempted to intervene and bring about a peace between Russia and Turkey but Russia was determined to overcome what she called the “Sick Man of Europe’, meaning Turkey, and would accept nothing but surrender. Negotiations were broken off and war seemed imminent.

There was tension in the streets. Everywhere one went there was talk of war. The headlines in the newspapers demanded intervention; anyone who stood against it was a traitor. We should go in, it was said, and we could settle the Russians in a week.

Battles are so easily fought and won at the dinner table or in the clubs or any place where people congregate; and the war was the main topic. Lord Palmerston should come back. He would show the Russians the might of Britain. Something had to be done. Russia was not only threatening Turkey, but us. Aberdeen’s policy of peace at any price was the reason for Russia’s intransigence, said some. Had Britain stood up and showed her intention to save Turkey, it would never have gone so far.

“Call back Palmerston,” screamed the press.

They blamed the Queen who was known to be against war, but most of all they blamed her husband.

It could not go on.

A few weeks passed. It was March of that memorable year. The paper boys were running through the streets shouting the news and people were dashing out of their houses to buy papers.

“France declares war on Russia.”

Now how could Britain stand aside?

The very next day it came. We were drawn into the conflict.

The disastrous Crimean War had begun.

Poor Lily! Her joy was tempered with anxiety. William had his marching orders. Lily said twenty times a day: “They say it won’t last more than a week or two once our boys get out there.”

And we pretended to agree with her.

On the day William left we were all in the streets. The Queen watched the parade from the balcony at Buckingham Palace, proudly smiling down on all her fine soldiers. It was a splendid and deeply moving sight. The shouts were deafening and the people cheered the magnificent guards with the little drummer boys marching ahead on their way to embarkation at the docks. The triumphant sound of the bands rang out:

Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules Of Hector and Lysander, and such great names as these.

But of all the world’s great heroes, there’s none that can compare With a tow row row row row row for the British Grenadier.

I watched with the music ringing in my ears and looked at Lily who was soon to be a mother, and I prayed that William would come safely home to her.

Polly and Jane thought the soldiers were lovely and they were determined, as they said, ‘to jolly Lily out of herself, so we all went back to the house and talked about the baby and we showed Lily the clothes we had collected for the layette; and Lily’s spirits were lifted to some degree.

The next day we had a visitor. It was Charles Fenwick.

“I am in London for two days,” he said, ‘so I had to come and see you.

I am going to the Crimea. “

“When?” I asked.

“Immediately. The war has made up my mind. They are going to need doctors badly at the front. I applied to go and was accepted at once and I am on my way.”

“I wish you all the luck.”

He smiled at me and then at Henrietta.

“When I come back,” he said, ‘we must all meet again. May I call? “

“We shall be most put out if you do not,” said Henrietta.

Our leave taking was a little brusque. I think we were all trying to hide our emotions.

People could talk of hardly anything but war. I think they had expected miracles of the army and they were impatient because there was no news of victory.

Promptly on time Lily’s baby appeared and there was great rejoicing in both the Clift household and our own. Little Willie made even the war recede a little. He was a healthy, lusty boy and the pride of Lily’s heart. We discussed him endlessly; as for Jane and Polly, they were overcome with delight in the child.

The diversion was welcome, for the euphoria of the people was beginning to evaporate.

What was happening out there? The summer was almost over when we heard of the victory of the British and French at the Alma. The war would soon be over now, everyone was saying. Our soldiers were out there and that spoke for itself. But disturbing accounts were appearing in The Times, whose war correspondent, William Howard Russell, was sending home some very alarming despatches.

There was a cholera epidemic which had smitten the army and men were dying, not of battle wounds but of disease. The hospital equipment was pitiful. The organization was non-existent and it was the lack of medical supplies and attention which was defeating our men. The enemy was disease and mismanagement not the Russians.

The people were restive, looking for scapegoats; in vain did the army attempt to suppress these despatches; the hideous stories kept coming through.

Something had to be done.

One day there was a paragraph in the papers which startled us.

ad air for the Crimea, it announced.

I read it aloud to Henrietta.

Dr. Damien Adair is to go to the Crimea. He says that he is deeply shocked by what is happening out there. He wants to look into what is going on. He says it seems like an example of crass mismanagement. Dr. Adair is that doctor whose Eastern travels have interested so many. He is an expert on the use of drugs in medicine. He left today and should shortly be on the spot.

I dropped the paper and looked at Henrietta.

“How I wish,” I said, ‘that I could be there. “

“What harm do you think he will do?”

I shook my head.

“Wherever he is, disaster follows.”

“It seems it has come to the Crimea without him.”

“I wonder …”

“So do I.”

“Wouldn’t it be exciting … if we could go?”

“We should never be allowed to.”

“I’ve always told myself that nothing is impossible.”

Henrietta shrugged her shoulders.

“He’ll soon be back. Perhaps he’ll be in London with Charles. Then we can ask them both to dinner.”

I kept thinking of him with his demon face and those poor men lying at his mercy in some ill-equipped hospital.

The Russell articles could not be ignored. Something had to be done and it was.

The next item of news was that Miss Florence Nightingale had been asked to get together a group of nurses to take out to the Crimea.

That was all we needed.

Henrietta, through her connections, had soon acquired the information as to how the nurses would be selected. We were to present ourselves at the home of the Herberts, who had lent it to Miss Nightingale for this purpose. It was in Belgrave Square and when we arrived we had to face four ladies, one of whom was known to Henrietta. I was not sure that this was an advantage, for she would have known of Henrietta’s breaking off her engagement to Lord Cariton, which would be considered a feckless action, particularly as she had gone off and escaped from her social circle, disappearing into near obscurity.

We were studied with some amazement.

“Do you realize that this is going to be very hard work?” we were asked.

“It is not for young ladies like you.”

I retorted rather warmly: “We have been for just over three months at Kaiserwald. There we worked very hard indeed and learned something about tending the sick. I think that I have an aptitude for the work and indeed this could be confirmed by the Head Deaconess of Kaiserwald. It is my firm desire to join the party of nurses. I hope you will consider us.”

“We have no doubt,” was the answer, ‘that you are the sort of person Miss Nightingale would want, but I am warning you. The majority whom we have seen have been working girls without employment. girls who have to earn a living. “

“We want to come,” I said earnestly.

“Miss Marlington?” said our inquisitor, looking at Henrietta.

“I was at Kaiserwald. I worked hard and I want to go very much.”

“I will put your names before Miss Nightingale and I will tell her what impression you have made.”

We left not exactly elated.

“I think,” said Henrietta sombrely, ‘that I may have spoilt it for us both. They know of me and they regard me as feckless and frivolous.

I’m sorry, Anna. You should have gone alone. They would have seized you, but I fancy you are a little contaminated by your proximity to one who has proved herself no asset to society. “

“Nonsense,” I said.

“We’ll go and we’ll go together.”

A little to my amazement, I was proved right.

A few days later we both had a note to say that we were accepted.

During the weeks which followed there was no time to think of anything but our impending departure. The journey to Kaiserwald had seemed an exciting adventure but it was nothing to this.

Jane and Polly were wide-eyed with amazement when they heard what we were going to do.

“Lord ‘a mercy,” said Polly, “I never heard the likes of what you two ladies get up to. I should have thought young men was what Miss Henrietta ought to be thinking of … As for you. Miss Pleydell, a little of that wouldn’t do you a bucketful of harm.”