The Roman Catholic bishop at once agreed to the regulations laid down, and signed a paper agreeing that the sisters of mercy joining the expedition should give entire obedience to Miss Nightingale, and that they should not enter into religious discussion except with the soldiers of their own faith. Mutual arrangement was made that the Roman Catholic sisters should attend on the soldiers of their own faith, and the Protestant sisters on those of their faith. The position was later defined by Mr. Sidney Herbert to allay the agitation which prevailed after the band had set forth. He said: “The Roman Catholic bishop has voluntarily, and in writing, released the benevolent persons who were previously under his control from all subjection to himself. Englishmen may have the pleasure of feeling that a number of kind-hearted British women, differing in faith, but wishing to do practical good, are gone in one ship, as one corps, with one aim, without any compromise of our national Protestantism.... Thirty-eight nurses on their way to Scutari are truer successors of the Apostles shipwrecked at Melita than an equal number of cardinals. May the war teach men many such lessons.” The thirty-eight nurses selected to accompany Miss Nightingale as the first contingent were made up of fourteen Church of England sisters, taken from St. John’s House and Miss Sellon’s Home; ten Roman Catholic sisters of mercy; three nurses selected by Lady Maria Forrester, who had first formed a plan for sending nurses to Scutari; and eleven selected from among miscellaneous applicants. Miss Nightingale’s friends, Mr. and Mrs. Bracebridge of Atherstone Hall, and a clergyman and courier accompanied the expedition. It started from London on the evening of October 21st, 1854. Our heroine has ever been one of those who shunned the glare of publicity, and it was characteristic of her that she set forth with her devoted band under cover of night. Only a few relations and friends stood on the platform of the terminus on that October evening when Florence Nightingale bade farewell to home and kindred and started on her great mission, the magnitude and difficulty of which she had yet to discover. Quietly dressed in black, plain as a Quakeress, she was yet a striking figure. As the last hand-shake was given and the last farewells said her beautiful face retained its calm demeanour and was illumined by a sweet smile. Ever thoughtful for others, her chief wish was to spare her nearest and dearest, who had yielded a hesitating consent to her undertaking, from anxiety. None knew better than herself the perils which lay in those far-off Eastern hospitals.