Thirsk had its own Florence Nightingale in the form of a little-known heroine, Hannah Packer. But although born and bred in the town, she is more likely to be remembered in the place where she worked and died - loved and respected - in Cunapiro, Uruguay.

The story of her work in the small mining town has been highlighted recently with the publication of a book in the Spanish-speaking republic, Ana Packer, in which Cooper Harding, historian at Thirsk Museum, has played a part.

Mind you, although he has been sent a copy of the book in appreciation of his research, he has had trouble reading it, as it is written in Spanish.

Mr Harding said: "Fortunately, I am a trained linguist, and although I don't speak Spanish, I have enough working knowledge of the language and read it with a dictionary. It is a fascinating story."

The book tells of a remarkable woman born in Thirsk, where she was brought up among the Society of Friends. She left Yorkshire to settle in a distant community of cattlemen and gold miners.

There she took her nursing skills to a hard-pressed working population, endearing herself to the people of her adopted country where she is remembered to this day and honoured by a fine plaque in the town where she died in 1930 at the age of 89.

Mr Harding said: "Until a couple of years ago I knew very little about Uruguay. Since then, I have now learnt a little more, enough at least to have a context for my research. The people of Uruguay pride themselves on being independent and liberal minded; with a history of immigration from Western Europe, they are perhaps the most European of the South American states and are particularly pro-British."

Three years ago a message arrived via the Thirsk Museum web site asking for information about a nurse and philanthropist called Ann Packer, born in Thirsk in the 1840s, who emigrated to Uruguay in 1882.

The information was sought by researcher Selva Chirico, who, with a colleague at the University of Montevideo, was preparing a history of the nursing profession in Uruguay, centred on the life and work of an English disciple of Florence Nightingdale.

"During the next two years, I was engaged in a regular interchange of e-mail from South America and as my research locally proceeded, I became caught up in the early life of a fascinating character whose later career and achievements had never, so far as could be known, attracted any attention in her native town," said Mr Harding.

Hannah Packer was born in Thirsk in 1841, the child of John Packer and Elizabeth, nee Smelt. At that time, the family lived in the row of cottages at the top of Kirkgate, opposite Thirsk Hall, where John Packer seems to have been butler.

Although Mr Harding discovered that all the Packer children were baptised at St Mary's Parish Church, it is clear from their subsequent marriages that the family was closely connected to the Quaker community.

In 1860, Hannah married Richard Carter, the son of the manager of Backhouse's Bank. She was 18 and he 26. They were married in the Friends' Meeting House in Kirkgate in a simple ceremony, well portrayed in a charming print which hangs on the wall there.

Carter succeeded his father as manager of the Thirsk bank and the young couple took up residence in the apartments above the premises on the corner of Kirkgate. Hannah was not to have children of her own, and in 1873, after 12 years of married life, she was widowed when her husband had a sudden stroke.

In the same year, Backhouse and Co sold their banking business to the York City and County Bank, whose initials can still be seen carved above the doorway of the former bank premises.

Not only had Hannah lost her husband, she had lost her home, since the apartment went with the manager's post.

The following year, Hannah's brother-in-law, Dr Robert Baker, was appointed medical superintendent of The Retreat, the pioneering Quaker institution in York for the humane treatment of the mentally ill.

"It is perhaps as an assistant to Dr Baker that Hannah began her career as a nurse. The campaign led by Florence Nightingale and her introduction of a rigorous system of training for professional nurses had transformed the whole approach to work in hospitals," said Mr Harding.

From York, Hannah went to Liverpool where in 1876 she enrolled as a lady probationer at the training school for nurses at the Royal Southern Hospital. A year later, she was promoted to ward sister and within a very short time was appointed matron.

"In 1880, she resigned her post for reasons that are not altogether clear, but possibly because of illness," Mr Harding said.

She was presented with an inscribed silver salver. She returned to York, where she took up the post of matron at the County Hospital there.

While at the hospital, she met Dr Francis Davison, 12 years her junior. He was the son of an English father and a Uruguayan mother, born in Montevideo, but a graduate of Edinburgh University.

Dr Davison returned to South America as medical officer to a British company with gold mining interests in Uruguay. In 1882, Hannah sailed to join him as assistant among a mining settlement called Cunapiru - now a township called Minas de Corrales - and it was here that the couple were married.

In Spanish-speaking countries it is not the custom for women to abandon their maiden name on marriage, so the former Mrs Hannah Carter reverted to her family name, adopted the Spanish form of her first name and became Ana Packer. The respectful English form of address, "Miss Ana", was transformed into "Misiana" and it was by this name that she was affectionately known by the people among whom she worked.

In 1890, the price of gold slumped disastrously. The mine closed and the workers lost their jobs. Francis and Ana set about a programme of relief work.

Dr Davison organised the miners into a workers' co-operative which was able to exploit the most productive section of the abandoned mine. Meanwhile, political conflicts erupted into civil warfare. This culminated in 1897 with a pitched battle between government and rebel troops on the outskirts of the little town.

News came that 100 men had been killed and that there were 250 wounded lying in the open without help. Dr Davison set off at once to the battlefield, while Ana called her neighbours together and set up an emergency hospital.

In the days and weeks that followed, Miss Ana worked unstintingly among the wounded in her hospital, winning the gratitude of patients and gaining high praise from the Red Cross.

The Davisons won a special place in the hearts of the people. After the war of1897, it was decided to find a way of repaying them.

Since their arrival, they had been living among the mining community in a simple house that was little more than a brick hut with a roof of corrugated iron. The community built a new home for them, an elegant little bungalow, set up on a hillside.

When the time came to move, the story is that Dr Davison refused to leave his old home, declaring that he had done nothing to deserve this gift. A plot was devised - Dr Davison was summoned to the bedside of a patient. On his return, he found all the couple's goods had been transferred to the house on the hillside.

Dr Davison could not argue with this fait accompli, and the new house became his home until his death in 1921. He was 67.

Ana was by then 80. She was surrounded by families who looked on her as a mother figure, listened to her stories, admired her embroidery, and enjoyed English tea served at a neatly-laid table with York ham a treat.

She had another distinction; she had received a letter from Queen Victoria. She collected clothing from local families which was made up into bundles and sent back to England for the poor of London; Queen Victoria sent a letter of thanks.

Frances and Ana are remembered to this day in Minas de Corrales; the principal street in the town centre is the Avenida Dr Davison, and there is a memorial there to the English couple. Stories about Misiana have passed down to younger generations,

Mr Harding added: "It seems fitting to conclude with this description of her to be found in Selva Chirico's book: 'Her manner was gentle; she was always neatly dressed, wearing simple pieces of jewellery, but no make-up; by the middle of the Twenties she was very wrinkled. Her imperfect commend of Spanish caused much amusement, but her mistakes were part of her personality and were readily forgiven. She had no children of her own, but was duly loved by those many folk in her adopted country for whom she was always simple and respectfully Misiana'."