At last, in the May of 1855, the Lady-in-Chief was able to see such fruits of the six months’ steady work at Scutari that the scene of her labours could be changed, and she set out for Balaclava to inspect the other hospitals, for which, as superintendent of the ladies in the military hospitals in the East, she was responsible. She wished to see for herself what was being done for the soldiers on the field. Besides Mr. Bracebridge and her nursing staff, M. Soyer accompanied her with a view to improving the cooking arrangements for the army in the field, and he writes with his usual vividness:— “Thomas, Miss Nightingale’s boy, the twelve-year-old drummer who had left what he called his ‘instrument sticks’ to make himself her most devoted slave and messenger, was also allowed to go. “At nine,” says M. Soyer, “we were all on shore and mounted. There were about eight of us ready to escort our heroine to the seat of war. Miss Nightingale was attired simply in a genteel amazone, or riding habit, and had quite a martial air. She was mounted upon a very pretty mare of a golden colour which, by its gambols and caracoling, seemed proud to carry its noble charge. The weather was very fine. Our cavalcade produced an extraordinary effect upon the motley crowd of all nations assembled at Balaclava, who were astonished at seeing a lady so well escorted. It was not so, however, with those who knew who the lady was.” Later he gives us a most characteristic glimpse of the light-hearted courage and high spirit of his Lady-in-Chief:— “Mr. Anderson proposed to have a peep at Sebastopol. It was four o’clock, and they were firing sharply on both sides. Miss Nightingale, to whom the offer was made, immediately accepted it; so we formed a column and, for the first time, fearlessly faced the enemy, and prepared to go under fire. P. M. turned round to me, saying quietly, but with great trepidation, ‘I say, Monsieur Soyer, of course you would not take Miss Nightingale where there will be any danger?’ ... The sentry then repeated his caution, saying, ‘Madam, even where you stand you are in great danger; some of the shot reach more than half a mile beyond this!’ ... ‘My good young man,’ replied Miss Nightingale in French, ‘more dead and wounded have passed through my hands than I hope you will ever see in the battlefield during the whole of your military career; believe me, I have no fear of death!’”