Elephant Man - Christine Sparks [55]
“Mr. Merrick’s misfortune is far from being ‘some deformity or other,’ ” Carr-Gomm interrupted. The Chairman was normally the most courteous of men, but he was determined not to allow Broadneck to take over the meeting. “Mr. Treves—?”
Treves, who was standing behind Carr-Gomm’s chair at the head of the table, knew what was expected of him, and promptly fished out the photographs with which he had armed himself for this meeting. Two showed Merrick full-length, the other three were various views of his head. Treves had carefully chosen the most explicitly horrible pictures. As he passed them round the table there was a shocked silence which at first gave him hope, but it was soon replaced by a rumble, not of pity but of disgust.
Before anyone could recover, Treves, who had returned to the head of the table, began to address them in a tense voice.
“Gentlemen, the London Hospital must not abandon this poor creature. There is no other place for him. Both the Royal Hospital and the British Home have turned him down, even if sufficient funds for his care were provided. The workhouse is certainly out of the question. The patient has an overwhelming fear of returning to the horrors of his past. His appearance,” Treves pointed to the photograph that lay on the table, “is so disturbing that all shrink from him. He cannot, in justice to others, be put in a general ward of the hospital. The police rightly prevent his being exhibited, and he is mobbed in the streets wherever he goes. What is to be done with him?”
He turned his hands toward them in a slight gesture of appeal. Before it could take effect Broadneck had cleared his throat and waded into the fray. His piggy eyes gleamed with dislike. His voice too had something of a pig’s squeal about it.
“I, for one, am sick and tired of this competitive freak-hunting by these overly ambitious young doctors, trying to make names for themselves.” He fixed his eyes on Treves to leave no doubt of his meaning. Treves gave him back stare for stare, but he was conscious of a feeling of unease in his conscience. “To parade them about in front of the Pathological Society is one thing. Mr. Treves, but to waste this Committee’s valuable time with requests for shelter for these abominations of nature is quite another.”
Into the general rumble of agreement round the table Treves’ voice broke passionately.
“Gentlemen, John Merrick is not an animal. He is a man, fully aware of his condition. An intelligent, sensitive, literate man, with an intimate knowledge of the Bible. His horrible infirmities do not reduce him to anything less than what he is, a man; and it would be criminal if we of the London Hospital, his final refuge, the last place on earth where this man can find peace, were to cast him out.”
From his chair at the head of the table Carr-Gomm pounded with his gavel. All eyes swiveled to him. Some were resentful, blaming him for allowing things to go so far. Others beamed to him their expectation that he would put a stop to this nonsense.
“Gentlemen,” he began in his silky voice, “may I make a suggestion? There are two small rooms off Bedstead Square that are no longer in use and would be admirably suited to Mr. Merrick’s needs. I also propose to write a letter to the Times, appealing to their readers for assistance. Knowing the generosity of the British public, I feel we would have little trouble in raising the funds for his maintenance. Indeed, this hospital’s rules do preclude the admission of incurables, but if ever there was an exception to the rule, it is this patient. So therefore, I propose, if Mr. Treves is finished, that we put it to a vote. All those in favor of keeping Mr. Merrick here?”
Without waiting for their reaction he raised his own hand. Treves, not being a Committee member, had no vote, and only one man around the table dared to join Carr-Gomm in lifting his hand. Broadneck glared at the man and began to fight back.
“One moment, Mr. Chairman.” He waved