A thrilling novel set in NEW YORK / USA
A short story by Leah Fleming – written especially for TripFiction
20th March 2022
Chateau d’Elne Museum. Languedoc Rouissillon
THE CHATEAU BY LEAH FLEMIMG
This short story was inspired by my latest novel: THE ROSE VILLA, set along the South West coast of France. I visited the museum at the Chateau d’Elne, as part of my research. During the second world war, it became a Maternity Hospital run by the Suisse White Cross.
Mr Green was always last off the coach. As I helped him down from the steps, he looked towards the Château with surprise. ‘So, this is it?’’ he said.
‘Yes, the last one on our itinerary, such amazing architecture, built at the turn of the century in the Art Nouveau design. No one would want to live here now. Think of the heating bills,’ I joked smiling. ‘But it has an interesting history.’
‘So, I gather,’ the American replied.
Aware of his age and disability, I asked if he needed a wheelchair, but he turned to me, smiling. ‘Not yet, young lady, not yet.’ His eyes twinkled behind thick lenses. I was eager to tell him the history of this strange place.
First, I accompanied the guests through the doors to the check in. They all had passes with time to browse outside in the garden before the sun rose high. It was still spring, the house was set back from the coastline. In the distance soared the Pyrenees.
I like to make time for tourists who’ve read up in advance on their location. Intrigued by his interest, I returned to the old man, found a bench where I could relate the story to him.
‘It was a maternity hospital before the war,’ I began.
‘Yes, I know,’ he replied. This was not what I was expecting.
‘Pregnant mothers were taken from the crowded beaches at Argeles and other camps, brought to the safety of this strange refuge before their babies pushed their way into such a war weary world.
Here, they could be bathed, put into clean linen and delivered safely.’ I paused recalling how relieved the women were to be rescued from the dirt and crowds. Here, mother and baby could be nourished before their long journey ahead. Not easy with an infant at the breast,’ I added.
‘Some of our visitors come to see if this story is true not. Was there really such a hospital in this building where Elisabeth Eidenbenz, the Swiss White Cross nurse and friends, founded a charity to support the renovation of this derelict chateau into a Maternity Hospital? It became a rescue point for refugee mothers, Spanish, Catalans, fleeing into France and Jews from all nations, fleeing in the other direction.
We walked slowly round each exhibition panel until he stopped, to wipe a tear from his eye. ‘There I am,’ Mr Green smiled pointing to a panel on which was a list of babies born with birth dates: Carlos Verde. November 8th, 1942. My mother was brought here to give birth to me and then to prepare us for climbing over the peaks to safety, hiding from guards until we reached Spain and on to America. My father had disappeared along with so many others into the mist of forgetfulness,’ he sighed. ‘She never spoke of him without tears rolling down her cheeks.’
Then, out of his pocket, he pulled a little parcel. ‘This is a gift for the cabinet of children’s clothes. It’s just a knitted hood that protected my head against the wind on the mountain. She was convinced it saved my life.’
He handed me a threadbare, faded piece of fabric, a bonnet with flaps to cover a baby’s ears and ribbon to tie under the chin. What could I say?
‘Thank you,’ I replied touched by his gesture.
We walked around all the photos in silence; babies in wicker baskets, smiling to the camera, mothers chatting on the chateau steps, lines of diapers fluttering like ships’ flags. How many of them were reunited with what was left of their families at the end of the war? What could I give him
in return?
There were a few books for sale… ‘Here take one, a gift for a gift…’ I handed him a large pictorial account of the Chateau D’Elne.’ You never know, you might be in one of those pictures. Most books are in French but I have an English novel that covers your very story. How children were brought to safety over the Pyrenees into Spain.’ I pointed to The Rose Villanovel on the shelf.
With that, I left him to peruse the pages until he spotted a page full of women with babies in their arms. ’That’s Momma! That must be me!’
Everyone gathered round to hear his story. What a tale of escape and danger Mr Charles Green brought to life, while the Guides recorded all his details. This was a visit no one was going to forget.
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Hi Leah!
Even though I had worked out the potential outcome of Mr. Green’s visit to The Chateau, the story was so beautifully rendered, that I devoured every word avidly.
I have read so many of your books over the years, although I have to admit, mainly the earlier ones. However ‘The Rose Villa’ will definitely be heading for my ‘wish list’
Thank you for providing a lovely start to my morning 🙂