The Ladies of Longbourn (37 page)

It took several hours to move everyone from the site of the accident to Bell's Field, even though the distance was not great and during all of this time, Anne-Marie and Charles never wavered or appeared to be tiring.

Working assiduously to get the injured ready for their difficult journey, warning them it may be painful as their bodies were jarred as the crude vehicles carried them along rutted roads, yet promising there would soon be shelter and relief, Anne-Marie had hardly ever looked up from her labours. Her husband, watched in astonishment and admiration as she completed her tasks, cleansed her hands and arms in ice-cold water and after the last of the injured had been moved, joined him and her brother in the carriage to travel to the hospital. There was still a great deal of work to be done.

Many of the injured travellers were in shock; some hardly knew what had happened to them or where they were. Most were not from the county, travelling through to the Midlands. So bruised and cut about were they, so shaken and terrified, they had forgotten everything but their present predicament.

At Bell's Field, Charles, with his experience acquired at hospitals in the city, gave clear instructions and assigned tasks to all the volunteers.
With Anna and Jenny Dawkins to help, Mr Bowles was to organise the accommodation at the hospital and the efficient Harriet was assigned the important task of obtaining information from each patient and making notes of their injuries and treatment. Charles and Anne-Marie set to work to deal with the major injuries, while Dr Faulkner treated the rest.
Colin Elliott, who had volunteered to do anything that was asked of him, was ordered to fetch and carry like any of the others, and many from the village were amazed to see their distinguished MP labouring alongside of them, his boots covered in dirt, his clothes stained with mud and worse. When a cart arrived from Longbourn with bread and hot soup, it was he, who together with the cook, dished out the meal and took it to the workers and those among the injured who could eat, a task he performed as conscientiously as if he were a hospital orderly.
Mrs Collins, unable to assist in person, had donated the food to sustain them. More brandy and hot coffee arrived from Netherfield House and was welcomed by those working without any heating through the night. Colin Elliott marvelled at the generosity of the small community. For years he had heard his father receive news of similar incidents, farm accidents, floods, coach overturns and ask only that he be informed of the progress of the rescue. He had, as a boy, accompanied his mother to see the wounded or attend a funeral at the local church, but never had he or his family been involved as he was now in the actual work of rescuing and treating the victims It was, for him, a new and salutary experience.
When they had finished their tasks and the cook was cleaning up, he went outside into the cold night. The sleet had stopped falling and the sky had cleared. The fresh, cool air was balm to his head, aching from the smell of carbolic soap and iodine. He could scarcely believe his eyes, when he saw the pale light of a wintry dawn in the sky. They had worked all night. Returning indoors, he sought his wife and found her with Anna and Harriet, tearing up sheets and rolling them into bandages. They would be used to replace those, put on at the crash site, which were now caked with blood and dirt.
Elliott was astonished. It did not seem possible, but she was still at work, looking as though she intended to continue through the day that was just beginning.
Sitting down beside her, he asked softly, "Are you not weary, my love? It is almost dawn. Should you not rest a while, even an hour or two, perhaps?"
He was clearly anxious that she should not become overtired and fall ill herself. Anne-Marie smiled and touched his arm gently, acknowledging and appreciating his concern; but she shook her head, "How can I? I feel no weariness, while these unfortunate people and all these children lie here in pain and in great danger of infection. When we have cleansed and treated their wounds and found some way to alleviate their pain, then perhaps I can rest for an hour or two. Look at Charles; he has not stopped since we arrived at Sidley's Creek, nor has Dobson, and he is much older than us. I must stay, as long as Charles needs my help," she said simply and he had no heart to argue with her, even though he knew she must be close to exhaustion.

Colin Elliott had seen nothing like this; certainly not in England. Once or twice in India, he had noted with admiration the dedication of missionaries and their native helpers, who worked round the clock without food or sleep to save lives during floods and other disasters, epidemics of typhoid or cholera that regularly ravaged the villages. But they, he had always told himself, were probably driven by religious zeal and the hope of obtaining conversions. Here he observed his wife, Dr Bingley, Anna, Harriet, and many others who seemed motivated only by compassion and a strong sense of service. It was as though they had grown up believing that it was their duty to help ease the suffering of others, even strangers, upon whom misfortune or catastrophe fell.
As he came to comprehend, it would prove to be an important stage in his own journey through life. Colin Elliott had grown up in a home in which success was measured by a yardstick that took no account of compassion and dedication to public service. Commercial achievement, successful business transactions, and promotion up the rungs of the political and social ladders had counted for more than philanthropic intentions.
Anne-Marie, sensitive and perspicacious, understood his predicament and sought to draw him in by asking for his help and advice. Encouraging him to participate in the work, she hoped he would understand what impelled her and the others in her family to act as they did. She knew, more than any of the others, that Colin Elliott needed to feel a part of the community they lived in, which he had been elected to represent and serve.
It was, however, the ever practical Mr Dobson, who found Mr Elliott the right task. Aware of the need for the hospital to maintain an accurate account of the supplies used that night to treat the victims of the accident, he suggested a useful exercise. "Mr Elliott, sir, if you could compile a comprehensive list of materials and medical supplies used from our stores tonight, it would help Mrs Elliott to ascertain what items need to be replenished before we open to the public," he explained. "Mrs Bowles has been making notes, sir, which may be useful to you," he prompted.
Colin Elliott, realising immediately, from his own experience in India, the value of accurate inventories, set to work with the help of Harriet's methodical notes to compile one. He was particularly glad of having something useful to do, even as he saw the others working to alleviate the suffering of the victims. Later, when Anne-Marie, having finished her work, came in search of her husband, she found him sitting at the matron's desk, working by lamplight, a ledger at his side, making an inventory of supplies. She felt no weariness, but it was clear to her that he was tired. It had been a very long day.
"Mr Bowles and Harriet will stay on to help Charles; I think we could go home now and get some rest," she said and this time, to her surprise, it was he who asked for a few more minutes to complete the task.
"I shall have it done very soon, my dear," he promised and his wife, pleased, nodded her approval.
The appearance of Mr Tillyard and his reporters on the scene meant the news of the accident and rescue of the survivors was soon all over the county. Not only was the story told of the terrifying train crash and the tragic loss of life, but so was the tale of the heroic efforts of the rescuers; of Dr Bingley, his sister Mrs Elliott, her husband their new MP, and of course, the innumerable and often anonymous helpers from the Netherfield and Longbourn estates.
The vital importance of the hospital at Bell's Field, opened before its time, but invaluable in saving the lives of many of the victims, was most eloquently proclaimed by both the
Herald
and the
Hertford Chronicl
e. Their front pages told the story of the night-long struggle by dedicated men and women to save the lives of passengers, many of them women and children, who would probably have died without their prompt assistance.
The hero of the moment was, of course, Dr Bingley, regarded as a local lad who had done well in the city and returned to Hertfordshire to work at the new hospital. His untiring efforts had been recounted in homes and public houses all over the district. Sadly, he had not succeeded in saving all those who had been dragged from the wreckage of the train. Two more had succumbed overnight to severe injuries, while another man lay unconscious. But, more than twenty-five others, a few men, several women and children had been saved; their wounds cleansed, soothed with medication and bound up so they may heal. None of them had any doubt that they owed their lives to the dedication and skill of Dr Bingley and his sister. All expressed their profound gratitude.
Tillyard, who had campaigned for the establishment of the hospital, despite the intransigence of the local Council, now used his newspaper to say, with obvious satisfaction, "I told you so," and point the accusing finger at the men in the Council, who had done their utmost to thwart or delay their plans. Elated that he had been vindicated, he now claimed that the accident had proved there was a clear case for the expansion of the institution, from a children's hospital to a general facility for the entire community.
Graphic descriptions, written by his reporters, of the scene of the crash and the horrific injuries of the victims, together with accounts of the work of the volunteers, were provided for their readers, bolstered by strong editorial comment; Mr Tillyard was eloquent indeed.
"There can be no better demonstration of the need for a general hospital to serve this community; the hospital at Bell's Field, a private initiative of Mr Jonathan Bingley and his daughter Mrs Elliott, whose generosity is deeply appreciated by the people of the area, has amply proved the case for its existence in a single night.
"It is an indictment of the government's Health Board and the local authorities that the people of this county must depend upon private benefactors in such dire circumstances," he wrote, to the great satisfaction of Anne-Marie and all those who had helped in her campaign for the hospital.
Jonathan Bingley was immensely proud of both his elder children, yet as he said to his wife, it was no more than he would have expected of them.
"It is what they know they must do. What is far more impressive," he declared, "is the fact that their example has drawn Mr Elliott into becoming involved himself. I have had remarkable reports of his hard work, from doing menial jobs, fetching, carrying, and cleaning, to documenting hospital supplies. Bowles is full of praise for his efforts."
Anna agreed, "Never before have they had a Member of Parliament, who was prepared to turn up and help in a disaster," she observed.
Jonathan clearly regarded this as an achievement for which his daughter was responsible and when an opportunity arose in the days that followed, he told her so. "My dear Anne-Marie, I must congratulate you," he said, and then as she made to protest that it was not all her work, he added, "No, hear me out please, I do not mean to suggest that you were solely responsible for the efforts of the rescuers, although there is no doubt that without your hospital, their work may have been in vain and many more would surely have died of exposure. I know that your brother Charles, Dr Faulkner, and others played vital roles in this operation, but my congratulations go to another matter for which you alone are responsible." Perplexed, she looked at him, shaking her head.
"My observation of Mr Elliott has led me to conclude that you have completely converted him to our cause, which I think is a considerable achievement. I am told he worked as hard as any man, doing whatever was needed to help. Considering he does not come from a family with any tradition of community service, this is surely all your own work, my dear."
Anne-Marie was delighted. Her father's approval was always the highest accolade she sought for herself. That he had seen fit to praise the work of her husband was a special pleasure.
"Indeed, Papa, you have been well informed. He worked as hard as any of us and though exhausted, would not stop until the task he had undertaken was done. I think Mr Dobson will vouch for the truth of this," and as her father nodded, "I was very proud of him, Papa," she said, her eyes shining.
Anne-Marie's love for her husband would have survived whether or not he had proved himself as he had done on the night of the accident, but his actions had served to strengthen her feelings of esteem. Her father's recognition set the seal upon them.
The arrival from Meryton, some hours later, of both Colin Elliott and Charles Bingley, with the news that Tillyard's newspaper had started a public fund for the hospital at Bell's Field, climaxed a particularly satisfying day. Most of the remaining patients, now on their way to recovery, had been discharged from hospital and had, after many expressions of appreciation, set out for their homes in the Midlands.
Mr Dobson, meanwhile, had heard that the
Herald
, which had already acknowledged several small donations, had that day received a thousand pounds, from a donor who wished to remain anonymous. The person, a resident of the area, it was said, had asked that the money be used to provide services at the hospital to women as well as children. Charles Bingley was particularly excited by the prospect. Having made his decision to move to Hertfordshire, he could not wait to start work.

When the last of the patients had left, the hospital was cleaned and disinfected under the supervision of Dr Bingley and made ready for the formal opening. The hospital board, meeting to hear an account of the disaster, placed on record its appreciation of the work done by several members of the community, especially Dr Bingley and his sister Mrs Elliott. The date for the opening was fixed and no one around the table had to think twice about who should be invited to perform the task. Mrs Colin Elliott, the wife of their new MP, was the unanimous choice.

The board's record of meeting reads,
It was decided that in view of her dedication, her untiring efforts to establish this hospital and to pursue the very highest ideals of the nursing profession, Mrs Colin Elliott should be invited to open the hospital at Bell's Field.