A HAZARD OF HEARTS (54 page)

Before Elly could comment, Pearl added that she
and J.G. would postpone their departure. ‘We couldn’t think of deserting you at
such a time. As well, there are all the women you have helped since you came to
the hospital. They will rally around you, I’m certain.’

Elly had to blink hard and swallow before she
could find the words to thank them.

J.G. cut her short. ‘If we could get on, Elly.’

‘Certainly. Just give me one minute more,
please, J.G. Where’s my glass? Oh, here it is. I want to drink a solitary toast
to all my friends here, my good and faithful friends who mean more to me than I
can say. To you all.’ She gathered them in with her gaze, enjoying their
gratification. Draining her glass, she said, ‘If it belonged to me, Pearl, I’d
smash this goblet theatrically in the fire.’

Pearl hastily took it from her. ‘We’ll consider
it done, and thank you for the sentiment.’ Observing her husband almost dancing
with impatience, she added, ‘And in pity for J.G., let’s get on with our
plotting.

~*~

The campaign gathered momentum from that
day. Much to J.G’s satisfaction, all sorts of information detrimental to Cornwallis
began arriving, or was whispered in his ear in the street or over a glass in
the taverns. Paul started to compile a list of men either bribed or coerced into
supporting Cornwallis politically and commercially, and another list of those
who had refused and been financially punished, even ruined, as a consequence. Uglier
rumours surfaced about street women who refused to associate with the man,
whatever the price offered. Then there were the men with beautiful wives, men
whose faces shut against his name.

Ethan pulled his weight in the merchant houses
where he was establishing his business interests and, disguised as a common
seaman, in the lower taverns frequented by bully boys, questioning, eavesdropping,
discovering the contacts used by Cornwallis to do his dirty work.

The conspirators kept on digging, querying
business associates, bribing clerks and accountants concerned with Cornwallis’
many interests. Their activities could not be kept secret for long, so they knew
their quarry would be aware and, it was hoped, afraid.

Then the articles began to appear in
The
Empire:

“Investigations into contracts let for
extensions to the new Sydney Gas Works have revealed corruption at a high level,
involving bribery of Council officials who will be obliged to explain the suppression
of tenders and the giving of false information. It is expected that persons
named in connection with the bribes, including some of our more prominent men
of business, will shortly be required to appear before an investigatory
committee.”

There was a distinct flavour of ‘watch this
journal for developments’, plus an inference that names would be named shortly.
The next week Cornwallis headed the published list.

Another paragraph, ten days later, adopted a
high moral tone over prostitution, then suddenly switched viewpoint to deplore
the brutality frequently suffered by ‘ladies of the night’ at the hands of
their visitors, and the pernicious double standard which allowed their abusers
to pose as upright citizens. An interview with a retired police officer
revealed the existence of an establishment consisting entirely of girls under
the age of twelve, catering only to the most select clientele. The business was
owned by “three toffs who kept the best for their special friends and paid high
for virgins, them being hard to come by.” When pressed, the man had revealed
the owners’ names, and
The Empire
promised to seek confirmation, while
hinting darkly that one at least was the son of a British peer.

Cornwallis’ name became conspicuous in such
innocuous connections as a report of his attendance at the Lord Mayor’s Ball,
along with other notables, or his day at the races with friends. When
appointments were made to the board of a new banking establishment, Cornwallis
appeared as a member. His name was constantly presented before readers of
The
Empire
in all possible contexts.

Sandwiched between such items were reports of
the carnage in the Crimea, and the gradual perception by the public that the
English governing classes were the cause of the disaster.

“Do we want the same system of government here
which distributes both public and military office according to the accident of
birth?” thundered
The Empire
, and even the
Sydney Morning Herald,
traditional
supporter of the landed gentry, followed. The Melbourne
Age
trumpeted a
cry for independence: “The time has come when we should prepare to take the
business entirely into our own hands”. There was even a call for independence
by force of arms, if necessary. The increasingly powerful middle class had
become vocal, demanding a system of government which promoted talent rather
than privilege.

Paul didn’t hide his delight, even while
diverting most of his energies away from the Cause to concentrate on the
Cornwallis campaign. Twice he had been set upon, but he now went nowhere
unaccompanied and avoided obvious lonely places. When hired bullies tried to
smash up a political gathering where he was speaker, they were foiled by Paul’s
own bravos scattered throughout the audience in preparation for such an event. He
had received anonymous threats in the mail, had scurrilous words painted on the
wall of the house where he lodged. Fortunately his landlord assumed this to be
a politically motivated attack and simply had the wall repainted.

J.G. carried out similar precautions, which
included an invitation to Elly and Jo-Beth to move into the house he had hired
for Pearl in the gracious suburb of Woollahra, one with a high fence and a sturdy
gardener living on the premises who vetted visitors at the gate. For Elly’s
supportive friends had also been dismissed from the hospital and were now
unemployed.

‘I’ll employ you,’ Elly said, when the news had
been indignantly passed on by Jo-Beth. ‘We’ll begin with the letters to
charitably-minded women. I’ve brought with me from the files a list of those
who support the hospital, the Benevolent Society, the Orphan School, and such. Of
course, the ones with husbands on the Hospital Board will probably not feel
disposed to listen, but there’ll be others with a more open mind, I trust.’

Jo-Beth’s society background fitted her to
compose the letters so she set to immediately, co-opting Pearl’s help, while
Elly sent carefully designed notes to a number of former patients. She chose
only those who were not too ground down by poverty and child-bearing to have
the time, plus having a possible interest in bettering their health system for
the benefit of all. It wasn’t necessary for Paul to point out the power of the
rising middle class, the merchants and traders prosperous enough to give their
wives the freedom to espouse causes. Elly had seen for herself the influence
wielded by women like Mrs Burton, the Gaol Governor’s wife, who could sway not
just her husband, but other wives in her own circle. If these women could be enlisted
in her cause, she would have a strong base from which to work.

From the number of replies, Elly realised she
would now have to organise a meeting.

‘Somewhere warm,’ Pearl advised. It is
mid-winter.’

Elly began to laugh. ‘I know just the place, the
Royal Hotel. They’re used to rowdy political events so won’t cavil if we ladies
get a little out of hand.’

With the appointment of a new Matron at the
Sydney Hospital, J.G. immediately pointed out how well Elly had performed in
the position and how many improvements she had introduced. His article alluded
to the incompetence of certain members of the Board, claiming fallen standards since
Elly’s departure. A fuming counter-attack in the
Sydney Morning Herald
only
added to the publicity, giving J.G. further opportunity to sing Elly’s praises
and ask point blank whether the Board would care to list its reasons for her
dismissal.

The following week
The Empire
revealed to
its readers a story of graft and corruption which sold out the edition almost
before it hit the street. Elly read the item aloud to her friends at breakfast,
congratulating J.G. on having excelled himself. He ducked his head in false
modesty, replying, ‘I believe it to be one of my choicest works.’

‘We’re stirring up danger here, J.G.’ Pearl
rested her hands on her husband’s narrow shoulders.

Elly suddenly noted the grey streaks at his
temples and, examining him covertly, realised that his experience at the
goldfields had damaged his health, perhaps permanently. She believed Pearl knew
it, yet was wise enough not to interfere in his headlong crusade. If it were
not Cornwallis, it would be another. He would never cease to set his nimble wits
against corruption.

J.G. smiled mischievously at his wife. ‘That’s
the idea, to stir the snake on all sides. We’ll have him so wildly confused he
won’t know where to strike first, although I know where the first major blow
against him will be dealt.’

‘Where?’ the three women chorused.

J.G. practically hugged himself. ‘Since this
stir up of interest, he and his banker friends have been under investigation,
with particular regard to the handling of charity funds. The Board of Directors
of the Hospital has scented scandal. They’ve convened a special meeting to discuss
its composition and the necessary probity of its members. How do you imagine
Cornwallis will enjoy that, eh?’

Jo-Beth had thoroughly enjoyed Elly’s
inaugural speech on public health, at the Royal Hotel. Her pleas for the more
fortunate women in her audience to appreciate the plight of their sisters
forced into unendurable situations in dirt-floored slum hovels, below street
level and subject to every rush of rainwater bringing in filth, their
malnourished children at the mercy of vermin and disease, had brought tears to
many eyes, including Jo-Beth’s own.

Afterwards, during late supper at the Woollahra
house, Ethan drew Jo-Beth aside. ‘My love, is there some way for me personally
to help Elly’s campaign? Until I became involved I had little idea of the
importance of public health. As she pointed out, we are all affected. Our own children
could be at risk.’

Blushing, Jo-Beth assured him that his valuable
work on the “bring-down-Cornwallis” campaign would eventually help Elly. ‘Besides,
I have certain plans for the future which will interest you. I’ll not be an
idle wife.’

He slipped an arm around her waist. ‘Tell me,
minx.’

‘Later. No, Ethan, we’ll be seen.’ Nevertheless,
she kissed his cheek before releasing herself. ‘Did you see those women, at
least a hundred, all hanging on Elly’s words, and not an objection from any of
them? As a campaign opener it could hardly have been bettered.’

‘It was the first shot in the campaign. But you
should be wary. Having taken the opposition by surprise, you may not be so
fortunate next time.’

‘What opposition? We’re not attacking anyone.’

‘Oh you are, dearest. You’re criticising the
establishment, the men who have, in your own words, failed to care for the
unfortunate, the sick and the elderly in our community. Nor have you yet
clashed with the rowdy element, the cabbage tree boys and street bullies who
will delight in breaking up your meetings out of sheer devilry.’

‘Oh, them. Paul and J.G. have organised a band
of men to keep obvious trouble-makers away from future events. If any do slip
through, they’ll be swiftly ejected, I assure you.’ Seeing him still concerned,
she slipped her arm through his, adding, ‘Now, you’re not to worry, Ethan. With
you at my side there can be no danger.’ She swept him over to the others,
grouped around Pearl’s fireplace, deep in discussion.

‘
The Empire’
will give a full report,’
J.G. promised ‘Elly. ‘I particularly liked your vivid descriptions of the effects
of starvation and poor living conditions on the children – “faces and limbs
rat-bitten, their teeth rotted, their gnome-like, undeveloped bodies a prey to
any ill blown in on the wind.” Strong stuff, Elly.’

‘Don’t turn it into melodrama, my friend. I’d
like you to emphasise how much it’s in the community’s own interests to clean
up the slum breeding places for typhoid, influenza and smallpox, which sweep
through all classes of society, regardless of wealth or worth.’

Elly sounded tired, thought Jo-Beth, yet still
keyed-up and restless, while probably wondering what else she could have done
to reach the hearts and minds of her audience. She said, ‘Elly, you’ve done a
magnificent job. Those women will go home and start educating their menfolk to
pressure the politicians. Many whose husbands hold public office have promised
to mount household campaigns of their own. We’ve agreed that our strongest
weapon is public opinion. Anything J.G. can do in the way of reinforcement is
important. Don’t you agree, Pearl?’

‘I do. Yet I also particularly liked Elly’s plea
for us to use our feminine minds to create the kind of world in which we want
to live, not leave it always to the men. The more affluent women in society
have power; they’re a huge, virtually untapped resource.’

Jo-Beth smiled to herself, thinking of her own
future plans. She was certain that Ethan would approve. While it was not a vast
city like London, Sydney Town grew larger each day, swelled by immigrants, many
of them people of substance. There was plenty of work for her on this side of
the globe.