A HAZARD OF HEARTS (58 page)

She’d realised that J.G. was in some ways a
throwback to the Old Testament idea of an eye for an eye, much as Pearl had
once been. Yet this man she thought she knew was as genuinely carefree as ever,
fussing over her comfort, teasing Pearl, exchanging the latest gossip with
Jo-Beth, nagging Ethan into teaching him bits of sea lore. Did one ever know a
person completely, she wondered?

Paul, for instance, had been more withdrawn than
usual while visiting her over the past few days. Of course, she had been
recovering from her ordeal and was in no fit condition to receive the many
curious and concerned callers who knocked on Pearl’s door, only to be politely
turned away. Today, however, she had insisted on a general conference to clear
up all the details still troubling her.

Paul held up his bandaged hands. ‘All right, I’ll
explain. Just what did you want to know, Elly?’

‘Firstly, how did you find me?’

His gaze flickered to J.G. and Ethan. ‘Cornwallis’
town house was the first place we three searched, but it seemed deserted. The
main cellar apparently had a false wall concealing others behind, so we found
no trace of you there. It was... disturbing.’

J.G. took up the tale. ‘Young Barty from the
Alley put us onto the truth. He’d seen you go into the wretched Jenkins’ house
– may she be despatched to the hot place when they catch up with her. When you didn’t
re-appear, his inquisitive nose sensed dirty work. So he followed the cart
taking you away wrapped like a roll of carpet to Cornwallis’ back door, then
scampered home to report to his Grannam. She roused the neighbourhood and, the
inhabitants of Durand’s Alley being what they are, they marched off to the
rescue. If you ask me, any excuse for a mob demonstration and a bit of
house-burning would have done, especially where the notorious Cornwallis was
concerned. I suppose they searched the place for you, before deciding to fire
it. If they thought at all.’

‘I’d come back to check for any news while the
others were out searching, separately,’ Paul interposed, ‘And I found Barty’s
Grannam had also sent word here, through the hospital. Thank God someone knew
where to find me. Otherwise the mob would have unintentionally finished you
off.’

‘Cornwallis would have done that.’ Elly
shuddered.

In a low voice Pearl said, ‘I’ve seen a great
deal of violence lately, and none of it worth a single life. The rule of the
mob is insanity, whether it be vagabond ruffians bent on mayhem, or soldiers
and police licenced to murder in any way they wish during the heat of battle.
It only achieves misery and destruction.’

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.’