Bishop Gilbert"s family circle was fast diminishing. His eldest son and four daughters were married. The _sisterhood_ was broken up. Numerous home duties at Chichester and in London, together with the care of parents whose health was beginning to fail, engrossed the time and thought of the daughters at home. Bessie still received sympathy and a.s.sistance, but she lived a very independent life, and relied more and more upon the services of a confidential maid, who wrote her letters, made the entries in diary, note-book, and journal, from which we have taken extracts, and accompanied her wherever she went.
Her entire absorption in the work of the Inst.i.tution could not fail to become a source of isolation; and it began to cause anxiety to parents and friends. They knew her delicacy and the need in which she stood of constant watchful care, and they followed her with apprehension as she sailed out into the ocean of labour and endeavour.
Some remonstrances from old and dear friends reached her, and the faithful Fraulein D. wrote as follows:
Don"t you allow that one great interest to absorb all others....
Remember that our very virtues can become snares of sin to us if we do not watch ourselves, our purest actions may lead us wrong. One great difficulty we have to deal with, in this our so complex state of trial, is to keep within us an even balance of things. Do the one thing, but do not leave the others undone, and above all seek, in all we do, not our own but the glory of G.o.d.... Don"t you show a little want of faith and trust in your own eagerness and over-anxiety about your Inst.i.tution, which, though most laudable in itself, may become a snare to you if it makes you neglect duties quite as, if not more, sacred?
Bessie preserved this letter, and in her humility she would lay it deeply to heart; but she knew that the Inst.i.tution was not a work in which she sought her own glory. She was labouring for the blind, who depended upon her, and whom she could not forsake. She had "put her hand to the plough," and could not draw back.
In a very different tone we find a few words from her father, written after Miss Law had paid Bessie a visit in Queen Anne Street.
PALACE, CHICHESTER, _28th September 1860_.
MY DEAREST BESSIE--They tell me it will be a doleful parting between you and poor Miss Law, especially on her side, which I can well understand, as she has not the resource in active occupation which you have. Your mistake and suffering may be in taking too much of it, without allowing yourself, or rather, taking as a part of duty also, the _dela.s.s.e.m.e.nt_ of pa.s.sing events, of social conversation and intercourse. Well, this is not exactly what I meant to say, but it may do on the principle of "a word to the wise." They tell me too you want 15, so here is my cheque for 15 and Archdeacon Mackenzie"s, also on Coutts"s, for 20. He says only it is a donation for your Inst.i.tution in Euston Road. H. told me you have a notion he gave it for some specified purpose, the West End, for instance, but he says nothing of the kind. The cheques are each of them payable just as they are on being presented at Coutts"s. I have acknowledged the 20 to the Archdeacon. Those at home do doubtless give you the chitchat news.... I suppose some one will write besides me, so I only add that I am, my dearest Bessie, yr. ever affectionate father, A. T. CICESTR.
In the early part of 1860 Miss Bathurst wrote to congratulate Bessie on a "n.o.ble donation," coming "doubtless in answer to the law that they that seek shall find," and the donation has a pleasant history.
One day when Bessie was in Queen Anne Street a servant told her that a lady wished to see Miss Gilbert. She went downstairs accompanied, as usual, by her maid, and on entering the room found one whom she discovered by her voice to be a very old lady, whose first words were:
"My dear, I am very tired; send your maid for a gla.s.s of sherry."
This was done, and when she had finished the sherry the old lady said:
"My dear, I bring a contribution for your work. You see my relations have kept me a long time from having the control of my money, and now I am determined they shall never get a penny of it."
Then she turned to the maid who had brought the sherry: "Young woman,"
she said, "count these notes."
They were carefully wrapped in newspaper, ten notes for 50 each, and every note in its own piece of newspaper. They were duly counted and pa.s.sed to Bessie. "You will acknowledge them, my dear," said the old lady, "in the _Times_ and under initials."
And that was all. No more was ever heard of her, and there was no clue to her ident.i.ty.
Singularly enough there was a second donation of 500, also from a lady, in October of the same year. The first announcement of it came from Levy, who writes from 127 Euston Road.
_17th October 1860._
DEAR MADAM--In speaking finances yesterday I said that we could do nothing more than we had done unless G.o.d sent us a special blessing. G.o.d has sent us a special blessing in a donation of
Five Hundred Pounds.
His instrument in this gift is a lady, who did not wish her name mentioned, but Mr. Evans, the gentleman to whose discretion the giving or holding the donation was left, quite agreed with me that her name should be published. Her name is Miss Terry.--I am, dear madam, yours truly, W. H. LEVY.
The following letter is from the Mr. Evans alluded to:
_17th October 1860._
MADAM--I think it will give you pleasure to be informed that, having 500 placed in my hands yesterday for a Blind Inst.i.tution, I searched out the one with which you were said to be connected.
After going round Euston Square twice, calling at the wrong places, I at last traced it to the Euston Road, where I saw the Report and Mr. Levy. When I told him my object he literally cried for joy, and this I think will be interesting also to you to know. The lady who gives this handsome donation is Miss Mercy E. Terry of Odiham, Hants, through her bankers, Messrs. Child and Co. I need not say, rejoicing as I do in such charitable gifts, that it affords me very considerable pleasure in being the bearer of this intelligence to you, although a stranger, as greatly interested in the aforesaid Inst.i.tution. The money has this day been paid to Messrs. Williams and Co. on account of the Society.--I am, madam, yours very obedly., E. P. EVANS.
Bessie, in acknowledging the letter, asks if the donation is in response to an appeal for help. Mr. Evans replies: "Thanks are due to Miss Terry alone, but chiefly to a watchful Providence who so appropriately guided her charity to your Inst.i.tution in need of it. Your individual application had no influence in the matter; for, in fact, applications of that kind are so numerous that it is not my practice to give them attention. I did not know that you had written until you told me; but now I find that you did so, because your letter lies amongst others put aside.
"Your wishes and prayers are, however, answered in another way, and that is very satisfactory."
These donations gladdened Bessie"s heart, and were frequently referred to as coming at a time when heavy pecuniary anxiety was pressing upon her. She had applied this year to Mr. Tatton of Manchester, but he replied that it would be impossible to raise funds in Manchester for a London inst.i.tution; people would feel that the many indigent blind in Lancashire and Cheshire had a stronger claim upon them. He wishes her success, and informs her that they are busily engaged in erecting a large addition to the Blind Asylum in Manchester to enable them to carry out the system of teaching trades to, and finding regular employment for, non-resident blind. "The success of your a.s.sociation," he adds, "in establishing and carrying out such a system, has been one main cause of inducing us to take such steps as will enable us, although at a very heavy cost, to give the plan a fair trial in Manchester, and I feel very sanguine as to its success."
This information would give as much pleasure in its own way as the announcement of a donation of 500.
In addition to her autograph letters, a circular asking for custom for the Inst.i.tution, and signed by the Rev. W. Champneys, Sir John Anson, and the Rev. Pelham Dale, was issued in 1860. These earnest, patient, importunate appeals went steadily on; they were written by herself or by any friend whose sympathy she could enlist, and sent to any and every newspaper that would consent to insert them. But in spite of all efforts stock was increasing, sales diminishing, and an augmented number of blind applicants clamouring for admission. The boarding-house began to be a source of anxiety, not only on account of the expense connected with it, but by reason of the character of many of the inmates. Blind men were sent to the London boarding-house at the suggestion and with the warm approval of persons interested in them; and in the belief that they would learn a trade and earn their own living. But in many cases the man only looked upon London as a happy hunting ground. The last thing he intended to do when he got there was to work. He wanted a comfortable home, a small and certain allowance, and to beg in the London streets. Tied up together are letters warmly recommending a man to the benefits of the Inst.i.tution, detailing his many virtues as well as his needs, followed by others from the same writer sorrowfully recognising failure, and very frequently acknowledging that the man was "at his old tricks again."
Bessie"s faith in her cause was unshaken even by these painful experiences. She showed infinite pity and tenderness to all blind applicants, and gave to each one who was admitted a fair opportunity to improve and reform. She believed that honesty, goodness, and habits of industry were constantly found beneath the garb of the blind beggar, and that he must not be judged by the ordinary standard, because his condition of idleness had been enforced, and was often of long standing. She learned to know all the temptations to which the blind were exposed, and whilst she fully recognised and acknowledged them, she endeavoured to show a way of escape. In spite of many failures she could point to individuals and families rescued from beggary and placed in a position to which it had seemed impossible even to aspire.
Still, with all allowances which her wide charity and large experiences were ready to make, it soon became apparent that a boarding-house for blind men and women conducted by a blind man would not answer. Abuses crept or rather leapt in, and Bessie, suffering and depressed, was unable to intervene actively, as she would have done if her health had permitted. There seemed to be no alternative, and the boarding-house was closed.
Mrs. Powell, sister of the Rev. F. D. Maurice, and twin sister of Mrs.
Julius Hare, was one of Bessie"s old and dear friends. She was a member of the Committee of the a.s.sociation, and took keen interest in its work.
We learn from her letters that Bessie was too ill to take part in the arrangements for the workpeople at Christmas 1860, or to attend the Committee meeting in January 1861. Mrs. Powell sends a prescription for a plaster "which seems to do wonders in neuralgia, and in soothing the brain after there has been any strain upon it."
Miss Bathurst also writes frequently at this time. "How earnestly I hope sleep may be given back to you," she says. "Those long nights of waking will try you sorely." She tells of a sermon preached by Mr. Maurice on the text, "Endeavouring to keep the unity of the spirit," and how he had dwelt on the change in the meaning of the word endeavour since it was first used by the translators, and that it was at that time a word full of energy, implying, "Put out all your force as for something which you are capable of accomplishing."
But Bessie was in no condition to receive encouragement from words which would at another time have roused her like the call of a trumpet.
The day of endeavour was for the present at an end; weary months pa.s.sed on, and her condition was unchanged. An abscess formed in the lower jaw, and, after consultation, it was resolved to remove eleven teeth. It was also decided to perform this severe operation all at one time and without the use of chloroform. There were special difficulties on account of the condition of Bessie"s throat and the adjacent tissues which seemed at the time to justify this decision; but the result was disastrous, almost fatal. It was months before she rallied from the shock of the acute and prolonged pain. When, three weeks after the operation, she was at the lowest ebb and her condition very critical, it was discovered that the spire of Chichester Cathedral was in imminent danger and must shortly fall. Just that part of the palace in which her room was situated was believed to be in danger of being crushed if the spire fell, and it was absolutely necessary that she should be removed.
The Dean and Mrs. Hook made immediate preparations to receive her at the Deanery, which was supposed to be out of danger. She was taken from her bed on the 21st of February 1861, and carried to the safest room in the palace, but before she could be removed from the house the spire fell, collapsing like a house of cards, injuring no animate thing, and doing little harm to any other part of the structure. Bessie was really proud of that spire. It had been good and beautiful in life, and its fall was the type of a peaceful and appropriate end. Chichester mourned its loss; it was, as the local journal said, "the most symmetrical spire in England, on which the eye of Her Majesty and her Royal Consort when in the Isle of Wight must have sometimes rested with delight."
To the blind lady the cathedral and its beautiful spire had also been very dear. But as she had been too ill for apprehension, so she was at first spared the sharp pang of regret. Many months of prostration followed the dental operation, and it was more than a year before she was again restored to health. As soon as she could attend to letters, she received frequent reports of the work in London. The underground railway was in course of construction, and had blocked the Euston Road.
Trade was annihilated there, and the blind had lost all ready-money custom. Debts were a.s.suming ominous proportions, and Levy, upon whom the whole strain and responsibility now fell, showed signs of failing health.
Mrs. Powell wrote on the 7th of May 1861 from Palace Gardens, to give Bessie an account of the Committee meeting. She said that:
Levy was in a weakly, nervous state, soon exhausted. He said it was nervous fever from which he suffered, and that the doctor told him he must have rest. In his absence from the room it was proposed to arrange that he might spend every Sat.u.r.day and Sunday out of London. Mr. Dixon, the oculist, who was a member of the Committee, said he must be careful not to go too far, as in a weak state of health people suffered more than they gained by long railway journeys. Levy came back into the room and announced that nothing could be done or thought of till "the annual meeting" was over.
There was a debt of 1400 hanging over the Inst.i.tution, half of it trade debt, and half from customers who could not be got to pay ready money; and Levy announced that the loss of custom from the underground railway stopping access to the shop amounted to 20 a week.
Mrs. Powell concludes by saying:
I need not add that much sympathy and regret were expressed by the Committee at your continued weakness and suffering, and all hoped soon to see you there again. I know how anxious you must feel to be amongst them; but you will remember "your strength is now to sit still," until it can be said "Arise, He calleth thee." In patience you will possess your spirit. May G.o.d bless you at all times.