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.
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 Isabella 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 reorganisation 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 extend 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.
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.
Kitty came to tea shortly after Georgiana's departure. The two sisters had never been close in the intimate way that Lizzie and Jane had been. But, since her marriage to the Rector at Pemberley, Kitty had matured remarkably and, having developed a pleasing sense of humour, she was at least a more interesting companion to her sister. Though she would never be as deeply loved as Jane or Georgiana, Kitty was more than welcome at Pemberley.
The work that Kitty and her husband had undertaken with the children's choir, which was now a permanent feature of the community, and their dedication to the Parish school they ran for the children of the Pemberley and Camden estates had earned them a special place in Elizabeth's heart. On this occasion, Kitty brought much news from Hertfordshire and especially from Longbourn and Meryton.
Jane was spending the day at Pemberley with Elizabeth while their husbands were attending a cricket match in Derby. The sisters had much to talk about. Jane wanted to know how Maria and her family had settled in at Haye Park, while Lizzie was interested to hear of Charlotte and Mary, and of course everyone wanted to know if Kitty had seen anything of the Wickhams!
"Now Kitty, you must tell us everything," said Elizabeth.
As for Kitty, she was very keen to tell her sisters all she knew and more! Jane could hardly wait for the maid and footman to leave the room before demanding to know whether Kitty had been to the house in Meryton that Lydia and Wickham occupied.
"Amelia-Jane tells me it is a large and rambling place with an untidy garden. Surely this cannot be true?" she asked.
"Indeed, it is, and situated just a mile or so outside Meryton, down a very poor sort of road," replied Kitty. "We were asked to tea one afternoon, and Lydia had all this food prepared and laid out on tables on the lawn, but the surroundings were so unkempt that we were continually attacked by Summer gnats and midges, so that Maria and I had to retreat indoors. The children didn't seem to mind, though I was glad my girls had elected to stay at Longbourn with Mary and Charlotte. They would not have enjoyed it, I am sure." Kitty continued with an unflattering description of her sister's household, which she declared was "without doubt the most disorganised I have ever seen.
"I swear, Lizzie, if it were not for poor overworked Mrs Brown, who looks after anything and everything that needs looking after--including Lydia's youngest, the naughtiest little boy I have ever met--the household would be a complete muddle."
Neither Elizabeth nor Jane were surprised. Lydia had been so totally spoilt by their mother that she had never shown any interest in learning to run a household, much less to cook or sew. Having been married at a very young age, and before any of her sisters, she had continued to follow a path of self-indulgence and irresponsibility, letting her children grow up as they wished, making no attempt to influence their upbringing. A similar lack of interest appeared to prevail on the part of their father.
Kitty, accustomed to the care and concern of her own husband, found this to be quite reprehensible and said so. "Wickham just does not seem to have any interest in the children at all," she said, "and Lydia seems not to have made an effort to change him in any way. He is much as he was all those years ago."
Jane seemed exasperated, but Elizabeth showed little emotion. "Nothing you have said surprises me, Kitty. Lydia's mind was only ever fixed on fun, flirtation, and falling in love--whatever that meant to her silly way of thinking. As we all knew, Wickham had no thought of marriage when he eloped with her; it was only accomplished thanks to our dear Uncle Gardiner and Mr Darcy. Had they not been assiduous in their efforts to trace them and insist upon their marriage--to the extent of bribing Wickham to marry Lydia--there is no knowing to what depths she may have sunk when he abandoned her, as he surely would have done when he had tired of her."
The seriousness of Elizabeth's words reminded them of the dreadful circumstances they had lived through on their errant sister's account. None of them would forget, even though all three were perfectly happy and content today, how close Lydia had come to ruining all their lives. All three of them owed much of their present happiness and good fortune to the generosity and magnanimity of Mr Darcy.
They fell silent for a while, until Jane decided to lighten the conversation with a question about Mary and Charlotte at Longbourn. She knew Kitty had spent some time with them and was eager for news. "How do they get on?" she asked. "Jonathan seems to think they are very content together."
Kitty agreed. "Indeed, they are. I could see no sign of any trouble between them. Charlotte seems pleased to have a home at Longbourn, and in view of her sister-in-law's most uncharitable attitude, she is probably very happy with Mary. She certainly runs the household well. They have a very good cook, and since dear old Hill passed away, there has been only the one maid and Mrs Binns. Charlotte has her own maid, of course, a very proper young woman from Mansfield, who has been schooled to read and write. They seem to manage very well indeed."
"I am very glad for Mary's sake; Charlotte is interested in everything that goes on in the world, and she will keep Mary alert and informed, I am sure." Elizabeth was certain the association could only benefit Mary, who had overcome some, but not all, of her dullness of mind.
Kitty could only agree. "I am sure you are right, Lizzie. Mary seems very happy with her pupils. She has gained quite a reputation as a music teacher. Maria tells me she sent her own girls to her until they moved to Haye Park."
"And do they have a visiting tutor now?" asked Jane.
Kitty laughed, "Of course they do. They are both very proper young ladies and have different tutors for music, drawing, and French!" Seeing Jane's incredulous expression, she added, "Can you imagine us at Longbourn with tutors for everything and a dancing master?"
"A dancing master?" the sisters exclaimed, and all three dissolved into laughter at the idea, recalling the days when the five Bennet girls were all out, not a tutor or a governess in sight, much to the annoyance of some of their neighbours and the disapproval of no less a personage than Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Lizzie, who was still an excellent mimic, provided her sisters with a perfect rendition of Her Ladyship's censorious comments, delivered at Rosings. "What? Five daughters brought up without a governess? I never heard of such a thing! Who taught you? Who attended you? You must have been grievously neglected!"
"Oh Lizzie, you have her down to a T," said Jane, who had a vivid recollection of Elizabeth's original recital of Her Ladyship's outrage. Having subsequently met her at Pemberley on a few memorable occasions, Jane could vouch for its accuracy of tone and attitude.
They were still laughing when Jenny appeared at the door. The seriousness of her expression stopped their laughter. It was quite plain that something was amiss. "What is it, Jenny? What's happened?" asked Elizabeth, rising and going to her side.
"If you please ma'am, John's back, and there's a message from the master," Jenny replied. "There's been an accident at one of the mines near Whitfield and they need help. The master is taking some of the men from Kympton and Mr Forrester. John is to get some of our lads together, take some blankets, rugs, and things, and go out there. John says they may be there awhile, ma'am."
While she was speaking, Jane and Kitty had joined them, eager to discover what had happened and what was known about the accident. When Elizabeth went downstairs, they followed her.
John, who was in the kitchen having a cup of tea, sprang to his feet as Mrs Darcy and her two sisters came in with his wife, Jenny. He looked so tired and distressed that Elizabeth ordered him to sit down at once and finish his tea. Though determined to obtain more information, she decided she would wait until he had finished.
While they were waiting, a man from the Camden estate arrived to inform them that a roof cave-in had occurred in one of the older pits, and several miners were trapped underground. Mr William Camden and his son had already left, taking a couple of farm hands with them to help.
Elizabeth, Jane, and Kitty looked at each other. "There must be something we can do," said Jane. "We cannot just stay here while everyone is out there helping in some way."
John had joined them and added his voice to hers. "If you please, ma'am, I think the master hoped you and Mrs Bingley could get to the hospital and join the others who will be waiting to attend on the men and boys who are brought out. There is no county hospital anywhere near the mine; the nearest is over in Newcastle under Lyme," he explained, pointing out that at least some of the injured miners might have to be transported to Littleford or Matlock.
"Do you know whether Dr Gardiner is aware of what has happened?" Elizabeth asked.
"Yes, ma'am, we stopped at his house and the master went in and told him and Miss Cassandra. He was going at once with Mr Ward who was also at the house. They thought we might need more medical supplies at the mine. Mr Forrester has also taken some supplies with him."
"Has Mrs Forrester gone, too?" Elizabeth asked.
"Yes ma'am, and Mrs Courtney." It was plain that John was eager to be gone, and Elizabeth asked only that one of the smaller carriages be readied for them.
While they were preparing to leave, Kitty's husband, having heard rumours in the village, arrived and was distressed to discover that it was indeed true. He declared his intention to go with John to the mine in case his services were required.
Kitty agreed to go with her sisters to the hospital to prepare for the injured who may be brought in. Within the hour, they were ready and on their way to Littleford, where they found a number of volunteers waiting to be taken to the mine. Alighting from their carriage, Elizabeth, Jane, and Kitty urged them to use their vehicle, and to their surprise, two young women, who were waiting with medical kits at the ready, climbed in with alacrity and were gone in a trice. They were part of the enthusiastic group who, inspired by the work of Florence Nightingale in the war, had been training for several months with Miss Louisa Bingley, they said.
Elizabeth and her sisters went into the building to begin the long wait for the casualties, who would surely arrive sooner or later.
The mine was situated southeast of Whitfield on an old coalfield that straddled the border between the two counties. Over the last fifty years several new pits had been opened, as coal became the mainstay of the industries that had been established here. Like the potteries all over Staffordshire, these coalmines had spawned small towns with grimy rows of cottages accommodating hundreds of families, who had moved here in search of work. Many of the men and boys went down the pits while the pottery works employed others, including women and girls. Hundreds of the pottery works produced the crate loads of chinaware that Britain exported to the world. Accidents in the mines and factories were not rare, and most communities had taken their share of pain, but a pit collapse was quite another matter.
When they reached the site of the accident, Isabella was struck by the silence, for there was quite a large crowd present. A small knot of men stood close to the entrance to the pit. Further away, on a hill slope, a larger crowd waited quietly, concerned folk from the villages around the coalfield. A few old men, women, and children predominated. Some had obviously come direct from the pottery works or the warehouses--a fine greyish dust lay all over them, the dust that hung in the air around the potteries where the clay was pulverised, ground, sifted, mixed, and moulded into shape. The dust covered their clothes and hair, making even the young women seem old.
In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Isabella noticed that the miners, standing by the pit were similarly covered in dust, black coal dust, which seemed to be ingrained in their pale skin. Yet they hardly seemed to notice it, so accustomed had these men become to it; they must breathe it in and eat it with their food, she thought, grimacing slightly. Later, Henry would explain to her that many of them died of it, too, as it filled their lungs, causing a dreadful respiratory disease.
The miners who had managed to struggle out of the pit were already being helped--large mugs of soup, slabs of bread and cheese, and cups of tea were being handed around. It was plain that people had come quickly to do whatever they could to help. Even as they watched, more groups of people were arriving--from Newchapel, Tunstall, Burslem, and Hanley--even as far away as Stoke on Trent, where the news had spread earlier that day; they came eager to help.
Teams of men were digging out the rubble, clearing a path for rescuers to use to bring out those who had been trapped by the cave-in. Some of the miners, who had not been on the shift, had come back to dig their mates out. No one seemed to know how many were trapped underground.
A few boys, looking stunned and shaken, sat in the dirt by the side of the road. Isabella began to organise their removal to a more suitable place--the church in the meadow opposite was the only possibility. Dr Jenkins had obtained permission to use the small hall adjoining the church and helped her take the boys over.
The women had brought hot soup and bread for the rescue workers as well as the rescued, and others had supplies of a more potent brew for those who needed it. Indeed, as they waited, some, who could bear the suspense no longer, had imbibed already, and were a little the worse for wear.