October 10th & 25th, 1871
LETTER FROM MISS ELEANOR ASHFORD
To Her Sister, Margaret
October 10th, 1871
Dearest Margaret,
I can scarcely contain my excitement! I have accepted a position that seems almost too wonderful to be true.
I am to be nurse-companion to Lady Constance Soames at Hearthorne Manor in Lancashire! The position was advertised in the Nursing Times, and I was one of nearly forty applicants. Lady Soames' selection letter was so encouraging. She specifically mentioned my training under Miss Nightingale, and said that modern medical knowledge would be invaluable for her particular needs. She suffers from a delicate constitution requiring regular nursing care.
The salary is excellent—forty pounds per annum, which is considerably more than I had hoped for in my first position. The manor is situated in the beautiful Lancashire countryside, near the Irish Sea. This is precisely the sort of meaningful work Miss Nightingale encouraged us to pursue. Not merely employment, but an opportunity to apply our training in a way that truly helps someone.
I depart London on December 12th by the morning coach. The journey will take most of the day, traveling north through the Midlands to Liverpool, then along the coast to Hearthorne. I should arrive on the afternoon of December 15th.
I confess I have been having the strangest dreams lately—of deep water and distant voices calling. The physician I consulted said it was merely excitement and the natural anxiety of beginning one's first major position. The dreams do not disturb me, exactly. They are simply... strange. Almost familiar, I cannot think why. But I am certain they will pass once I am settled at Hearthorne and occupied with my duties.
I promise to write immediately upon my arrival and tell you all about the house and my new duties. Give my love to Mother and Father. Tell them their youngest daughter has found a position that will make them proud.
Your excited and grateful sister,
Eleanor
LETTER FROM MISS ELEANOR ASHFORD
To Her Sister, Margaret
October 25th, 1871
Dearest Margaret,
I write with disappointing news, though I confess I am trying to see the bright side of unexpected circumstances.
This morning, I received a letter from Lady Soames informing me that the position at Hearthorne Manor is no longer available. A family emergency has arisen quite suddenly—she did not provide details, naturally—and she finds herself unable to take on a new nurse-companion at this time. She expressed her deepest regrets for the inconvenience and the disappointment this must cause me so close to my planned departure.
I will not pretend I was not crushed when I first read her letter. I had allowed myself to become quite excited about the position, as you know from my last letter. I had even begun packing my trunk!
However, Lady Soames' generosity has been truly extraordinary. Enclosed with her letter was forty pounds, the full year's salary she had promised as compensation for my trouble and disappointment. Forty pounds, Margaret! I have never held so much money in my life. She wrote that she felt terrible about the late cancellation and hoped this would help me secure alternative employment without financial distress.
I can only describe her gesture as remarkably kind. Most employers would perhaps send a few pounds for the inconvenience, but to send the entire year's salary when I have not worked a single day. It speaks of a generosity of spirit that makes me regret all the more that circumstances prevented our working together.
I have already begun inquiring about other positions. Mrs. Patterson at the registry office says that with my Nightingale training and Miss Nightingale's own reference letter, I should have no difficulty securing comparable employment. The forty pounds gives me the freedom to be selective rather than desperate, which is no small blessing.
Mother says perhaps it is for the best. She admits she was uneasy about my taking a position so far north, in such a remote location. "Everything happens for a reason," she keeps saying. Father is more practical, he is pleased about the forty pounds and suggests I save half of it before seeking new employment.
The strange dreams I mentioned in my last letter have stopped entirely since receiving Lady Soames' letter. Isn't that curious? The physician was right, it must have been anxiety about the new position. Now that the matter is settled, my sleep has returned to normal.
I confess I am disappointed, but I am also grateful. Lady Soames' consideration and generosity have turned what could have been a disaster into merely a setback. I will write to her tomorrow expressing my thanks and my hope that her family emergency resolves favorably.
Perhaps by Christmas I will have secured a new position and will have good news to share. Until then, I remain optimistic. As Miss Nightingale always said, a good nurse must be adaptable and resilient.
Your philosophical and grateful sister,
Eleanor
