Page:Once a Week Volume 8.djvu/281

. 28, 1863.] ray of the sun seems to fall into it, and gives it a perpetual warmth and brightness. At the time of my visit there were upwards of twenty sisters in the establishment, but there were barely half that number at home.

The great object of the sisterhood is to train and provide nurses for the sick of all classes, and they are equally ready to attend to the poor as to the rich. The Superior sends her best-trained sisters into other hospitals or families as they may be required, and educates the younger probationers, in the mother house, under her own eye, which necessitates constant supervision and activity. The younger sisters at that time belonged almost exclusively to the peasant class, or the position held in society by small tradesmen’s families and domestic servants. They were all very active, cheerful, and anxious to be of use. They had entered upon this life from serious motives and after much consideration, and with an earnest desire to do good. There are no worldly inducements to attract them; no exalted display of wonderful self-denial or extraordinary austerity, which has a strange attraction to some natures; the life is completely unobtrusive in its simplicity, so that even the enthusiastic and overstrained feeling of being set apart in some special way does not exist among them, as they are bound by no vows, merely promising strict obedience to the rules of the house. If the life does not suit any individual, or if family reasons make it a more manifest duty that any one of the members should return to her own home, no objection is made.

The dress worn by the sisters adds much to the appearance of refinement, as it prevents all display of bad taste, and from its extreme neatness is very pleasing. Economy being one of the necessities of the institution, nothing is spent on the toilette which can be foregone, though all attention is given to neatness. Their dress is arranged for convenience; for work in the house they wear a dark-coloured cotton gown, made quite plainly, with a round cape, the sleeves close at the wrists, and a clean linen collar: the sisters in the sick-room have long white aprons with bibs and large pockets. The others wear striped blue and white cotton, made in the same fashion, and close-fitting little caps trimmed round the face with narrow lace. The Deaconesses wear caps differently cut from the Probationers, the former having a curtain or frill at the back, and broader strings. The dress for Sunday and going out is black stuff; a black cloak and very plain black bonnet complete the costume.

The unsophisticated ideas of these young women were amusing. A stranger, above all a foreigner, coming among them, excited them much. England was a long distance off, and they were as curious to learn about its inhabitants as we should be about the moon; above all, that in a Christian country there should be no Deaconesses, seemed to them most extraordinary. “But, now that you have seen us, you will persuade the Englishwomen to lose no time in beginning,” they used constantly to say to me. “Sister Caroline will send some of us to help you to begin. You will easily find young women anxious to assist in such a good work.”

The Sister Superior during my visit was Sister Caroline. She was a well-educated woman, clever and energetic, with a calm, determined manner, which tended much to keep the younger sisters in order. She was an excellent nurse, and had acquired a small amount of medical knowledge—enough, as she said, to feel how ignorant she was, which is a great step, and one not attained by many nurses. She lamented much her want of knowledge of any language but her own, as they often had foreigners to visit the establishment, and even patients from other countries. Doubtless the mixing of various classes adds greatly to the vigour of any institution—a principle well understood and acted on by the Jesuits.

The house surrounds a quadrangle; the wards are upstairs, and open on to a corridor which runs round the building, thus affording means for constant ventilation. Half of the square is for men, half for women. The wards are large and airy, and can contain each ten beds. Adjoining each ward is a sister’s sleeping-room, so that the sister in attendance on the ward may have a little rest without leaving her patients. On each side of the square is a small kitchen, and a laboratory containing bandages, lint, medicines, and all the needful appliances, all carefully and methodically arranged, so that no time may be wasted in looking for what is required. Every day the sisters in charge of the different wards receive what they may require from the general store. The order and arrangement of the medical store-room rival that of a chemist’s shop.

As the Deaconesses’ Hospital is chiefly intended as a training-school for the sisters, there is a small amount of form requisite for admittance. Each patient must come provided with certain certificates of worthiness and general good behaviour, and pay one florin a week, which includes all charges. This is done purposely, as the town hospital, managed also by the sisters, receives indiscriminately all who require assistance. Notwithstanding, many poor persons are received, and attended with the greatest care, who have only their thanks and heartfelt blessings to bestow in return.

I was placed in the men’s department under the orders of Sister Joanna, an active, lively little woman. The men under her care were mostly working artisans—young men making the tour, necessitated by the laws of trades in Germany—the Wanderburschen as they are called, who, far from home and friends, are too thankful to avail themselves of such an institution. The greater proportion of the patients were shoemakers, whose ailments were chiefly attacks on the chest. In illness the character of each individual comes out undisguised, and it was curious to observe the different temperaments. There was the cheerful and merry patient, easily satisfied, always obliged, and making jokes good, bad, and indifferent on all subjects. The bed, the usual subject of discontent, is, in his case, always right. Such a patient is of immense benefit in a ward, and his spirits enliven the rest of the small community. The merry patient, in this instance, was a carpenter, recovering from a rheumatic fever: he was a fine-tempered creature, anxious to save the sisters any unnecessary trouble.