The Women of Pemberley

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by Rebecca Ann Collins


  Many men had gone, believing they would be home by Christmas; others had been swayed by patriotic fervour in the press; but none had expected the conditions to deteriorate to the point where the campaign would become an embarrassing debacle, costing thousands of lives and destroying the reputation of the British War Office.

  War correspondents reported in fearful detail the bloody battles of Inkerman, the disasters of Balaclava, and the infamous blunder of the Charge of the Light Brigade against the Russian guns, the resulting carnage so terrible, not even Tennyson’s patriotic verse could disguise the incompetence of those in command.

  Both Mr Darcy and Richard Gardiner spoke out openly against the conduct of the war.

  “We are losing lives and our country’s reputation as a result of this foolish expedition to the Black Sea,” said Darcy when the families were dining together at Pemberley.

  Both Richard and his friend Matthew Ward agreed. “You are quite right, sir,” said Ward, who had only recently received a letter from his mother detailing his father’s outrage at the lack of facilities to treat the sick and wounded at the front. “There are no litters or carts to transport the wounded and dying from the field. Dying men must lie there, often in the path of the battle, until their comrades arrive to carry them away. It is a scandalous situation.”

  “I have to admit I am utterly ashamed of our government and our leaders—both political and military,” Richard confessed, expressing the feelings of most of those at the table as well as his own frustration at his inability to do anything about the situation.

  Bingley confirmed that Jonathan had told them the government seemed to have no solution to the problems. “It is as if they are faced with a situation they never expected to encounter,” said Bingley, deploring the lack of organisation and preparedness. “I cannot imagine that any government would embark on such a campaign with so little planning.”

  There was not a dissenting voice in the room.

  Throughout 1854, and into the following year, while the siege of Sebastopol dragged on, thanks mainly to the remarkable incompetence of the French and British High Command, horror stories of the suffering of the soldiers continued to reach Britain. Not only were there daily reports in the press, but anecdotal evidence in letters from the front written by soldiers, officers, and medical professionals was eagerly read and shared around, so that the news soon spread across the nation.

  Henry Forrester and Isabella heard many distressing reports. Conditions were said to be appalling; the hot, unsanitary camps were rife with disease. Matthew Ward and others vouched for the truth of the dreadful tales of disease, starvation, and suffering in the camps. They learned of men who had little chance to serve their country, dying of pneumonia, typhus, and cholera well before they fired a shot in anger.

  Anthony Tate used his newspapers to flay both the blundering men in the army and their political masters. Shocked readers discovered the ineptitude of England’s leaders and the suffering of her soldiers in the field. The extent of the debacle was truly outrageous, and demands for something to be done were loud and unceasing.

  Britain was not alone in this parlous state, but in Russia and France there appeared to have been an early realisation of the need for some action. In both countries, groups of women volunteers—usually aristocratic women of substance—had started to go into the disease-ridden camps and treat the sick and wounded. It was the first time, in any war, that women played an active role in helping the medical teams.

  In Britain, however, the machinery moved rather more slowly. Following the public outcry that accompanied the revelations of the horrors of Inkerman and Balaclava, an approach was made on the initiative of the Secretary for War, Sidney Herbert, to Florence Nightingale, organiser of a group of women being trained to minister to “gentlewomen during illness.”

  She was invited to organise and manage a team of volunteer nurses and apparently accepted readily, going immediately to Scutari, to the army hospital, if such a name could even be attached to the appalling mess that she found there. Shocked beyond belief by the conditions, Florence Nightingale wrote to Sidney Herbert describing in horrifying detail the state of the hospital and the suffering of the men, demanding resources and personnel so she could carry on the task she had undertaken. The government had no alternative but to agree.

  As news of Miss Nightingale’s work filtered through, groups of women around the country began to offer their services to assist her. Some had taken an entire retinue along, while others, driven by compassion, asked only to be allowed to help in some way.

  Emily and Isabella were having tea together on a Sunday afternoon when Louisa arrived, unannounced, at the Rectory. She was on her way home from the new hospital, where Richard had gratefully accepted her offer of regular help.

  Her cousins welcomed her warmly, and Emily went immediately to fetch a fresh pot of tea. Louisa was very excited. She had recently received from her elder sister Emma a letter, which she had brought along.

  “I had long been wondering how we could help Miss Nightingale’s wonderful work at the front,” she explained, adding that she had twice written to the war office offering her services and, having heard not a word, she had written to Emma Wilson, hoping her husband James would be more forthcoming.

  “And was he?” asked Isabella, just as Emily returned with more tea and shortbread.

  “Indeed, he was, as I expected he would be. Papa says James has very good connections within the government and knows a good deal more than most of us,” Louisa replied, extracting her sister’s letter from her pocket book.

  Emily and Isabella were immediately interested. Louisa read quickly, omitting the purely personal paragraphs and proceeding to the heart of her sister’s letter:

  And now, to the main burden of your letter, my dear Louisa. You say you would like very much to help Miss Florence Nightingale in the wonderful work she is doing for our soldiers in the Crimea.

  While this is a very praiseworthy intention and you are to be commended for your Christian compassion, I hope you will understand that there are certain limits to the numbers of us who can travel to the front at this time. I have met some of the ladies who have been there, and I have it on their very good authority that it is not a task that may be easily accomplished; indeed, some of them have returned because they could not cope with the horrifying conditions. Many of their ladies’ maids are not happy to be there, either. The work is dirty and often dangerous, and Miss Nightingale works very long hours. Only the most dedicated survive the rigour of the work and conditions for longer than a few days.

  James has also made enquiries and discovered that the government would not welcome too many more women going out to the front at this time.

  I am not supposed to speak too openly of this, but James believes that since Lord Palmerston is now Prime Minister and the new Tsar Alexander II is more ready than Tsar Nicholas to consider peace, a settlement may be imminent…

  Emily and Isabella were delighted at the prospect of peace and the cessation of what was for them, the first experience of a horrible war, but Louisa hushed them at once, her voice sinking to a conspiratorial whisper.

  “Oh, dear! You must not say a word about it; remember, Emma warns us not to speak too openly,” she cautioned, and Emily was reminded of a play she had seen in which a young woman is arrested for spying. She was amused by her young cousin’s serious attitude, but not wishing to hurt her feelings, suppressed her desire to laugh.

  Louisa resumed reading her letter:

  However, much will depend on negotiations over the next few months. Both James and I think it is probably better for any of us who wish to help the soldiers to prepare for their return, remembering there will be many thousands of sick and wounded men who will need hospital care.

  In London, there are already organisations preparing to assist the returning soldiers and their families. Perhaps you and Isab
ella may like to do something similar in the area. A few hospitals here have started to train volunteers in this kind of work. If you wish me to, I could discover more about this scheme. I do believe it is a more practical way of helping the men than going out to the Crimea at this time.

  Furthermore, dearest Louisa, while you are single and without too many responsibilities, Bella is not, and it may suit her better to undertake some work in the area. It may be best to discuss the scheme with Emily and Richard, too, since they will know what preparations need to be made at the hospitals.

  I know you are very concerned and eager to help. I hope you will not be too disappointed, but, dear sister, remember: whatever we do to alleviate the continuing suffering of the men who return will be blessed indeed.

  “There, is that not exactly what you would expect dear Emma to say? She is so kind and yet so sensible, is she not?” said Louisa, putting her letter away.

  Emily and Isabella agreed and pointed out that the prospect of peace bringing thousands of injured, disabled, and diseased men home was a grim one and there would certainly be plenty of work for trained volunteers to do. While Louisa seemed a little disappointed, she had to agree that Emma’s suggestion was eminently practical. Emily, in her usual gentle way, revealed that it would not have been possible for Isabella to go anyway, for she was expecting her first child.

  This announcement brought so many exclamations of congratulation and delight from Louisa that she was about to leave without imparting another piece of important news. “Oh, dear, I did mean to tell you about it, but with all this excitement, I almost forgot. Cassy and Richard are attending the Spring Ball in Derby, and I am invited to join them. I understand Mr Matthew Ward is to be one of the party, and I am told he has confessed that he enjoys a dance,” she said, her voice back to a conspiratorial whisper again.

  Isabella and Emily smiled and could not help noticing the sparkle in her eyes. As she left, they predicted that Mr Ward was a fortunate young man and would be assured of a very pleasant evening, indeed. “I do hope he can dance,” said Isabella. “Louisa loves dancing and will be very disappointed if it turns out that he has leaden feet.”

  Later, Emily and Isabella revealed to their husbands most, if not all, of Louisa’s communication from her sister Emma, making sure they did not break the diplomatic confidence, which Louisa had been very particular to protect.

  Both James Courtney and Henry Forrester agreed that it was a sensible and useful idea. Neither of the men had any objection to their wives being part of such a group, which did not surprise, since they were both compassionate men. What was astonishing, however, was their absolute certainty that Palmerston would press the new Tsar for a peace settlement.

  Neither Emily nor Isabella had said a word. Both were puzzled but reluctant to comment lest they break Louisa’s confidence. When they were back at home, Isabella ventured to ask a question, making it seem as casual a query as possible. “Do you really believe we shall have an end to the war soon?” she asked, adding that it would make her much happier if Britain was at peace when their child was born.

  Henry Forrester turned and put his arms around his wife. “Indeed, my dear, I think we shall all be much happier if this wretched war was at an end. Well, if Anthony Tate’s sources in the Foreign Office are reliable, we should, at least, be well on the road to a settlement by Christmas.”

  “Did he tell you about it?” asked Isabella, surprised because Henry had not mentioned meeting Mr Tate.

  “It is in all his newspapers, my love. I was reading it only yesterday, and then this morning Richard mentioned it, too. It has been in all the London papers, as well, and he is convinced that Anthony has had it from the same reliable source.”

  Isabella smiled. So much for poor young Louisa’s great diplomatic secret!

  As for the idea of forming a group of nursing volunteers, she had no doubt of the need for such a scheme. One of the most pressing problems in the community was the care of the sick. With no national commitment to a health program, the sick and the wounded, whether in war or peacetime, would largely be left to the care of their families and such medical attention as the few district hospitals and charitable institutions could provide.

  Encouraged by their husbands, Isabella and Emily began the first volunteer group in the district, drawing in several keen young women, including Louisa Bingley, who soon overcame her initial distress and threw herself into the venture with enthusiasm. That young Mr Ward was almost always available to advise and answer their questions and often to commend them on the speed with which they mastered their tasks may well have helped alleviate her disappointment.

  Isabella was convinced that this was the case, especially after she discovered from Cassandra that the party to the Spring Ball had been a great success, and indeed Mr Matthew Ward had proved himself a very satisfactory partner in the dances.

  “Louisa enjoyed herself immensely,” Cassy had said, “and I would venture to say that Mr Ward had a pretty entertaining evening, too. They certainly danced together very well, and when they were not, he showed little inclination to rush off in search of other young ladies to partner, though several were available. He seems a sensible young man, and Richard assures me he is very clever.”

  Isabella was amused and confided in Emily, who cautioned her not to indulge in matchmaking, but then declared, with a twinkle in her eye, that it would be a very good thing if young Matthew Ward were to fancy their cousin. “Just think, Bella, it would mean that Louisa would be living in Matlock or Kympton and not miles away in Leicestershire; she would be a good deal closer to the hospital and therefore able to be much more useful. Best of all, it would mean that the clever Mr Ward would continue to stay and work with us, instead of going off to London or Birmingham as these young men are wont to do.”

  Isabella could not keep serious, aware that Emily was not. “Even better, as Mr Ward is such a keen dancer, there will no objections to the match from Mr Bingley!” They laughed together, knowing that young Louisa’s desire to volunteer for training to nurse the sick would surely increase with any sign of interest from Mr Matthew Ward.

  In the Spring of 1856, Tsar Alexander signed the documents leading to the Congress of Paris, at which the Peace Settlement was to be negotiated. Close to half a million men had been lost, and despite several documented acts of heroism, the Crimean War continued to be regarded as an unnecessary adventure in which none of the participants gained any prestige or glory.

  Perhaps the most important permanent consequence was the total re-organisation and improvement of medical services and the introduction of professional nursing through the intervention of Florence Nightingale—the Lady with the Lamp. The small but dedicated groups of women who undertook the difficult task of providing nursing care to the sick and dying drew their inspiration and much of their discipline from her.

  ***

  In April, Kitty and her husband, Dr Jenkins, returned from a short holiday in Hertfordshire, where they had stayed with Maria Faulkner and her husband. Having been childhood friends, the two had kept in touch over the years, and since Maria and her family had moved to Haye Park following the departure of the Gouldings from the district, she claimed there was plenty of space to have all of them over to stay.

  Kitty and her three children got on exceedingly well with Maria and her family, and their husbands found much to talk about, being both men of keen intellect and modest ambitions. Maria and Kitty had matured into sensible women, both more interested in their families and the neighbourhoods in which they lived than in the world at large. Each, in her own way, made a useful contribution to improving the lives of people, especially the children in the community.

  Kitty’s return to Pemberley coincided with the departure for Oxford of Georgiana and her husband Dr Grantley, who had spent a very pleasant fortnight with the Darcys. Shortly afterwards, they were to depart on a tour of Northern Europe which would exte
nd over several months, since Dr Grantley had been invited to visit a number of universities during his sabbatical. Georgiana was always welcomed most warmly to her former home, and Elizabeth, whose relationship with her sister-in-law had grown into a strong, loving bond, was sorry to see them go.

  “I shall miss you terribly, Georgiana. Will you promise to write?” she pleaded, and her pleas were immediately answered in the affirmative. Georgiana promised to give an account of all the interesting places they were to visit.

  “I shall miss you too, dear Lizzie, and of course I shall write very often.”

  Elizabeth smiled and reminded her that there would be some very special pleasures in store for her in Europe.

  “I can see you enjoying the feast of music that awaits you in Salzburg, Vienna, and Paris; you will probably find very little time to miss any of us. But I do not wish you to be depressed; rather I shall count on you to tell me how much you are enjoying it all.”

  “And so I shall, my dear sister,” she promised as she took affectionate leave of her brother and sister-in-law.

  Looking at her, a tall, handsome woman, elegantly dressed, Elizabeth could hardly believe this was the same, shy, nervous young girl she had first met at the inn at Lambton and later at Pemberley those many years ago. It was an occasion she would always recall with the greatest affection and pleasure. Darcy’s desire to introduce his young sister to Elizabeth had given her the first inkling of his continuing interest in her. From that happy meeting had flowed a great many things.

 

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