J.G. patted her shoulder as she turned her face to him.
‘There will always be violence in the world, my love,’ he said tenderly. ‘The trouble is you’ve experienced too much of it in your short life. God willing, we’ll settle somewhere peaceful and you can be content.’
Even Pearl smiled as Elly pointed out that J.G. Patterson and peace were hardly synonymous. Under cover of the general amusement Pearl said directly to Elly, ‘There’s talk of changes to be made in the Hospital Board of Management. Your supporters have raised such a commotion, I shouldn’t be surprised if eventually you are able to continue your work, Elly, and I can go off to mine.’
Elly shook her head, but all she said was, ‘You’ll be sailing soon?’
‘In early October.’
Elly said simply, ‘I’ll miss you.’
Jo-Beth, hearing them, interrupted. ‘But before they leave, J.G. has a duty to perform. He has agreed to give me away at my wedding, while you, Matron Ballard, are requested to carry my train. Will you?’
‘I’ll be honoured, Jo-Beth.’ Elly swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and widened her smile.
Paul said abruptly, ‘Ethan has asked me to act as his groomsman, keeping it all in the circle of friends, as it were.’
‘And I’m to bring up the rear as a Matron of Honour.’ Pearl’s contented smile, unwittingly smug, was almost too much for Elly. She didn’t envy her friends their happiness; she just wanted to join them, to be coupled with Paul, facing the future handfast with the man she loved.
Paul got up and faced the room. ‘I’d like to finish this off and never have to mention Cornwallis again. So let me say this. We’ve been in contact with evil and have, thankfully, come away unscathed. We’ve been very fortunate. As for myself, I’ve learned a difficult lesson, that a man’s whole life may be twisted out of true by a desire for vengeance. I thought I’d be satisfied on the day when Cornwallis died, but now I only feel regret for the years wasted in hatred and myopia. I’ve missed so much, let good things pass me by, concentrated my energies on a phantom pursuit which could never end happily.
‘Let me also say, also, how grateful I am for the friendship which has helped me through to this point. I know now what should be valued and cherished, and what should be laid to rest in the past. You’ve all helped me in different ways. Thank you, every one.’ He did not meet Elly’s eyes as the friends murmured their appreciation and Pearl hastened to provide wine to toast their enduring friendship.
~*~
Hiding her unhappiness, for the next few days Elly pondered the best way to shake up the establishment and achieve some results before Pearl and Jo-Beth set off on their new paths. She arrived at an idea so revolutionary as to be greeted with acclaim by her supporters, who went into action immediately. Paul and J.G. did their part, securing promises of endorsement from men like Henry Parkes, while the network of women pledged to the new notion of health for all, set to work cajoling and canvassing within the home and more widely in the community.
Ten days later the town was rocked by an unprecedented event, a march upon the Legislative Council by women. It was unheard of, a scandal not to be missed. People turned out of houses, taverns and clubs to watch the women go by. Ladies beneath shady parasols rubbed shoulders with shopgirls and tarts in grubby satin and lace. Housewives in calico and cotton, maidservants, merchants’ wives dressed to impress and poor women dressed mostly in darns, all stepped out together. Their boots clattered over cobbles and pavers, through dust and dung, from the far southern end of George Street to the new Semi-Circular Quay, past markets, livery stables, taverns and fashionable stores, driving shoppers back onto the footway and cramming carriages to the side. To a cacophony of jeers and cheers, they waved and called out slogans. They were barked at and ankle-nipped until the roaming dogs were driven off with the handles of placards proclaiming: ‘Good health for all’; ‘Our men will vote for our hospital’; ‘Clean up the slums and we’ll all live longer’; ‘Where are the trained nurses?’; ‘Good nursing saves lives.’ ‘How many have lost a sick child this year?’ with many more variations.
Heading the procession was a huge wool dray pulled by a team of Clydesdales, their manes plaited with ribbons, their harness adorned with bells and feathers; while above the driver a great silken banner hung on poles with the words printed in red: ‘Vote for our Hospital and Health in a Clean City.’ On the dray, beneath the banner, stood a group of men, mainly political aspirants, waving to the crowd, among them Paul, J.G. and Henry Parkes; while behind the dray Barty strutted with a cohort of friends bearing drums and banging more or less in unison. Elly had thought it impolitic to involve a military band in this enterprise. She marched with Pearl and Jo-Beth, arm in arm with their women supporters, their faces bright with anticipation and determination.
From the Quay, the procession turned right up the hill to Macquarie Street, past Government House, then right again to face the building which housed the Legislative Council, next door to the hospital. Windows were flung up and residents of the palatial homes lining the street leaned out. By now, police accompanied the marchers, either unable or unwilling to interfere with such a huge, purposeful crowd, which had been augmented by so many sight-seers. Yet it remained disciplined, only spreading out to fill the street and forecourt of the Legislative Council Building, where members had emerged to seek the source of all the commotion.
Elly, in the vanguard, heard some of the concerned exclamations.
‘It’s a riot,’ cried one, to a police officer. ‘What’s happening?’
The uniformed man shrugged. ‘It’s a political march.’
‘Great Scott! Look at all those women. Political, do you say? How extraordinary. Better call up reinforcements, don’t you think?’
The officer looked down his nose. ‘For women, sir?’
Elly missed the rest of the conversation as she was lifted bodily onto the dray to stand beside Paul. Henry Parkes had taken his place on a raised dais at the back and prepared to address the crowd. They shuffled to silence, listening as he reminded them of their great responsibility as citizens of the new Colony about to attain constitutional self-government.
‘We have come here today to remind the Legislative Council that shortly it will no longer be the supreme governing body under the Governor General. There will be an elected Assembly representing you, the people, whose business it will be to see that, amongst other matters, the Colony is provided with a proper health system for the care of each man, woman and child under its jurisdiction. The men here with me today, and I, myself, pledge to you that when we are voted into office, it will be one of our first concerns to set up such a system.’
Shouts of encouragement greeted this opening. Elly was grateful to have such a popular public figure spear-heading their cause. The crowd would be won over and in a mood to listen when it came to her turn. A message had been sent asking the members of the Legislative Assembly to publicly receive a petition from the marchers and, as Elly had foreseen, curiosity, if not apprehension, had brought the members out onto the verandah of the building. Parkes now addressed them directly.
‘Gentlemen, you are no doubt surprised to see ladies as the petitioners, yet you should realise what a force they represent in this new climate of freedom. The day is about to dawn when their husbands, brothers and sons will vote for their own representatives in a parliament of two Houses, and the will of the people will be paramount. They will demand your attention when they speak.’
James Macarthur, a Wentworth supporter and member of the Constitutional Committee, stepped forward to face him, raising his squeaky voice in outrage.
‘Sir, you are premature. There has been no word as yet of a Royal Decree granting constitutional government to this Colony. You and your comet’s tail of females are out of order and causing a public nuisance. I call upon you all to disperse to your homes.’
Parkes grinned then turned to the crowd. ‘Ladies, are you prepared to leave yet?’
> ‘No!’ A sea of bonnets and parasols surged forward, placards waving threateningly, and Macarthur stepped hastily back amongst his fellows.
Parkes held up his hand, and the noise subsided. ‘We have with us a leader in the vanguard of reform of public health, the former Matron of our hospital, Miss Eleanor Ballard. She wishes to address you, gentlemen, and any person here today who would like to see disease banished from our midst, our children able to grow in health and strength, our sick and elderly properly cared for, whatever their circumstances. Listen, my friends, and learn.’ He stepped down, handing Elly to the dais to the accompaniment of approving claps and shouts of ‘Hurray for Matron Ballard.’
Pink and slightly flustered, she tried to compose herself, to project her voice as best she could. This hour was the culmination of so much effort by so many people. It had to achieve its purpose. She searched the crowd then fastened upon one eager young face, framed in brown curls topped with a nurse-maid’s cap. The girl smiled back at her and, encouraged by a complete stranger, Elly began:
‘Good citizens of Sydney Town, we all know the only way to achieve lasting change is through proper legislation, properly administered, which is why I’ve joined my efforts with those of the men who will soon represent you in your own Legislative Assembly. I hope to persuade you that health is one of the greatest concerns facing this Colony. Even the richest among you are not immune to disease and accident.
‘We need a proper medical school attached to our new University, to train our own doctors. We need a nursing school to train staff for our hospitals. We need a new administrative order for the Board of the Sydney Infirmary and Dispensary, not directors appointed politically or through nepotism, but men qualified to make improvements to health care for patients, men who will be held responsible for any abuses in the system and required to bring about reforms in accordance with the latest, most advanced methods of hospital administration.
‘We need new hospital buildings. The old ones are insecure and vermin-ridden and should be torn down. We need to appoint a commission of trusted leading citizens, men and women, to enquire into all branches of hospital administration, and to advise the Board. We need to raise funds by public subscription and to have these carefully and honestly dispersed amongst such institutions as hospitals, asylums, orphanages. Above all, we need, each one of us, to be committed to the cause of good health in the community.’
She turned to the men standing behind her and swept her hand to include them, before addressing the members of the Legislative Council. None of these faces stood out for her. They were an amorphous mass, representing a barrier to be broken down.
‘Sirs. These gentlemen here with me have given their promise. If elected to government, they will strive to bring about such changes throughout the community, also setting up more clinics, clearing slums, improving drainage, forcing the polluting industries out of the city and cleaning our water supply. These are enormous projects, but essential.
‘I ask the Members of the Legislative Council, to join with them when the time comes, to support this work of saving lives. I ask you to begin now, to demonstrate your vision and greatness of mind, and not be forced to follow where others will shortly lead. Sydney will be a great city one day. We want to be proud of it and of her happy, healthy citizens. Thank you, all of you, for listening.’
There was silence when she stopped speaking, then thunderous applause. It came, not only from the marchers, but spread through the crowds who had gathered to listen, as Elly’s speech was repeated in shortened version to those beyond the reach of her voice. There were huzzahs and cries of ‘Good for you, lady.’ Caps were thrown in the air, boys whistled and clapping didn’t cease until Paul handed her down from the dray and took her place. Even then he had to wait some time for silence.
‘People of Sydney, there has been a great injustice perpetrated against the former Matron of our hospital. As many of you know, she was dismissed without adequate explanation by the current Board of Directors. Within two years she has brought our hospital out of the Dark Ages, giving new life and hope to hundreds of people; but her career, and her hopes of continuing to build a better facility, staffed by women trained and medically qualified, were blighted when she was so arbitrarily removed from her post. I plead for justice in this cause. I demand that an investigation be held into the circumstances of Matron Ballard’s dismissal. I demand an investigation of the Board of Management of our hospital.’
There could be no doubt of the crowd’s approval, and it was some minutes before Paul could again be heard.
Eventually he continued, ‘I have with me today testimonials from district doctors who have worked with Matron Ballard, as well as from prominent citizens whose loved ones have been fortunate enough to receive her care in her capacity as visiting nurse. They have all signed the petition which is about to be given to the Leader of the Council.’ He turned to the members packed along the length of the verandah. ‘Gentlemen, will you receive this petition?’
No-one in their senses would have opposed the mood of such a huge gathering, thought Elly. They filled the street and forecourt, overflowing into the hospital grounds, men, women and children of all ages and walks of life, perched on wall copings, leaning over verandah rails, hanging in the branches of trees, even balancing on the rooves of cabs. And while some were there to see the fun, many others had developed an interest in the outcome of the march. Impressed by the speeches, they now looked to the Council members for their reply.
Searching the sea of faces, Elly thought, we’ve got them! They had grasped the importance of her message. They would support her, providing that the momentum was maintained. If the Board could just be revitalized with progressive men of goodwill; if she could regain her position and work with those men, she could help bring to the people of Sydney health care equal to any in the world.
The Council conferred until finally a spokesman stepped forward, projecting his voice far over the crowd.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, it is not the practice of this Council to submit to pressure in the matter of the government of this Colony.’ Amidst rumblings, he quickly continued. ‘However, we are happy to accept a petition on a matter pertaining to the general good, a matter which is not yet the subject of legislation. The issue of the governance of the Sydney Infirmary and Dispensary, an independent body, may well be judged worthy of enquiry by a further committee of concerned citizens, within suitable guidelines and subject to the Governor’s overriding authority. We are willing to appoint such a committee –’
He got no further, as a stentorian bellow from Henry Parkes caused everyone within ten yards to leap.
‘Unacceptable! No more ‘appointments’ of committees stacked to suit anyone’s favour, if you please. Let the committee of enquiry be nominated by the people of this town. The people know who in public office has worked honestly for them in the past, and who has feathered his nest.’
The representative of the Council turned purple. He could scarcely get his words out. ‘That is an iniquitous accusation, sir! And the suggested mode of choosing your philanthropic nominees is quite unworkable. How would the people nominate?’
‘Quite simply, through The Empire. Each copy on the street would have a nomination form printed on it, to be filled in and posted through a locked box kept on The Empire premises – to which you may hold the key, if you choose. On a given day the names will be counted, publicly, by the Leader of the Council, and the most popular ten or fifteen, or what you will, announced as our committee to appoint a new Board of Directors. What could be fairer?’
Elly choked on stifled laughter. Henry Parkes’ audacity had to be admired, as well as his brilliant notion for increasing his newspaper’s circulation figures. But his idea had merit. She wasn’t surprised to find the Council agreeing to the scheme, in the face of the crowd’s approval. Men like Parkes and Paul, once voted into office, would be introducing far more radical notions and to hope for both Houses to work together was probably
impractical. Still, the suggestion did no harm.
Henry Parkes hadn’t finished. Having shaken the hand of the Council representative on his parliamentary steps, he again addressed the crowd.
‘Fellow citizens, today you have seen democracy in action. Now let us have justice. Let the post of Matron of our hospital be added to the nominations. Let it be open to anyone of fit standing and qualifications. Let the slur cast upon the finest woman ever to devote her energies to the care of others, be done away.’
The rest of his speech was drowned in an enormous shout of ‘Vote for Matron Elly!’ She was swooped upon by Paul and J.G. and lifted high above the crowd where she could be seen. Wild cheering broke out, while Barty’s friends began a frenzied drumming. If the reception accorded Elly’s speech had been enthusiastic, this was pandemonium. Deafened, overcome with emotion, she could not respond with anything more than a wave and smile. No-one could have heard her speak over the racket, she thought. Anyway, what could she have said – that she was touched by the support of so many people, humbled by their trust in her, delighted to the core at the thought of another chance to mould the future of ‘her’ hospital?
The Clydesdales snorted, tossing their ribboned manes and scattering those standing close by, while the political aspirants on the dray now unfurled a new banner of their own. Admirably succinct, it read: ‘Free beer and sausages in the Domain.’
The rush began with those nearest the dray, then spread rapidly. Men and boys tumbled off walls and out of trees, balconies emptied and soon Macquarie Street had cleared, even Barty and his friends succumbing to the lure of complimentary food and drink. Jo-Beth, Ethan and Pearl, who had climbed on the dray to take refuge from the mass exodus, suggested a withdrawal of their own for a celebratory lunch. Elly, still too full of emotion to speak, met Paul’s gaze, and wished they could be alone. She’d been seeking an opportunity to be private with him, but the right moment never occurred. And this was certainly not it. This day of victory should be shared with the people who had made it possible. Yet it was Henry Parkes who had the final word, or several words, as a politician.
A HAZARD OF HEARTS Page 42