A bridge appeared out in front of them,London Bridge. Jennifer could see the brown brackish river. There were many ships of all sizes bobbing up and down on the water. Her heart was beating so fast, she was very excited. Perhaps Katrina was right, this was turning out to be an exciting adventure. The carriage moved on to the bridge, carrying them over the water. She stuck her neck out as far as could be, trying to look down, but careful not to be clipped by the many passing carriages. Then they arrived on the South Bank of the river.
There, a whistle pierced the air. It drew Jennifer back inside the carriage, it frightened her. She looked to her fellow travellers, the older couple.
“What in God's name was that? “
The two of them laughed. “Why that was the train whistle, dear. Have you never seen a train?”
Jennifer nodded her head, No. “I have heard of the beast, but have never seen one. They have not reached near my village as of yet.”
“Well, dear, that be the sound they make. A whistle so that those know when it is arriving or departing. It is very loud indeed. The trains come into London Bridge station. I think you should take a minute or two to see one; quite the beasts they are, of metal and smoke.”
Jennifer nodded her head yes excitedly. She had not expected to see a train, but now that it was available to her she was going to take advantage of experiencing such a sight. She did not know that London Bridge station was a train and carriage station.
“London Bridge Station!” the driver shouted.
Once again Jennifer stuck her head out the carriage window, delighted to see such a bustling station. She felt more than excited to see the trains. The carriage came to a stop and the door opened.
“It was nice travelling with you both. Have a good day,” She said to the couple, and then stepped out into the busy sidewalk.
The building in front of her was very grand indeed, and stretched far in both directions. It had a very high tower, with a clock. This was London Bridge station. She knew that with the sun nearing the horizon, she should be following the directions that Jacob gave her to the Inn. But she just had to see a train. She entered the station, following the crowds.
The sound of huffing noises and clanking metal reached her. She walked faster toward the noise. Then, there it was, a very grand room with a grand arching roof. There were four tracks, and a train was arriving into the building. Her mouth fell open as she watched the black smoke plumes release from the chimney. The wheels circling around, in a dizzy motion as it huffed slowly into the building. Then it came to a full stop. She had never seen something so foreign in her life. This machine entering a building was unimaginable.
“Very grand indeed,” She mumbled.
She watched passengers get off of the train and get on the train. She could not stop looking at the long snake-like beast of metal. It was fascinating.
A bell rang out, it was the clock. She looked to it at the hour of five.
No! Sunset! She scrambled away from the grand room and back toward the entrance. This was exactly what she was to avoid. Jacob would be very displeased.
She stepped out into the pavement and it was darker than it was when she entered, but there was still twilight left in the air and the sky was orange and black.
She walked up to a policeman. She had never seen such a crisp uniform before.
“Sir, which way to St. Thomas Street?”
He pointed in the direction, but did not have time for her as he was monitoring the traffic in front. She followed the direction he pointed until she came to the street, which was not far from the station at all. She walked west, toward the sunset. She was very glad that it was not high noon.
Quickening her pace she walked faster, and pressed her way through the busy herd of pedestrians. Within five minutes she came to a very grand large street. The sign read Borough High Street and relief washed over her. Because of the position of the river, she knew which direction was south and proceeded. In less than four minutes, the sign of the George Inn appeared.
She felt grateful that she had spent time with Jacob and he gave her this direction. For she had no plan at all when arriving in London, except to make her way to Whitechapel to find the workhouse of Mrs. Wilcox. But she had assumed she would have arrived in London in the morning, and had plenty of time to seek out the workhouse. Arriving at night was very different, and she was glad for the direction that Jacob had instilled upon her.
There were many carriages out in front of The George Inn. It was very busy indeed, and now that she had found her destination she slowed her pace and allowed herself to enjoy the surrounding environment. Street performers were coming out into the night, to provide entertainment for pence to the visitors that passed through.
“Oh my!” she said as she watched one of these performers seem to blow out fire from his mouth like a dragon. The crowd that had gathered around him were in awe, applauding and cheering. Jennifer applauded as well;she had never seen such a thing, not even at her own village fair.
She walked into the main room of The George Inn. It was a grand tavern, about three times the size of the Hertfordshire Inn. She stood in line at the counter, for it was very long and she hoped that they would still have plenty of accommodation when she finally reached it.
“What can I do you for, miss?”
“I seek lodging for a week. A private room if you have it, the smallest. I don't need much,” She said.
“A slip of a girl like you wouldn't. I have a small room, our smallest available because those seeking private rooms are in a larger party. There is but a small bed, and fireplace. There ain't be no table or anything in there.”
“And how much would that be for a week sir? Six nights if you will?”
“Eight pence.”
“Then I shall take it.”
“Name.”
“Jennifer Bronson.”
He wrote her name in a ledger. She handed him a shilling, but not the one that Jacob had gave her. She kept that one tucked away in her bag, not thinking of it as money any longer, but more as a trinket. She handed him the shilling that she had earned on her own through her mending work.
“Here you are, miss. Your key and four pence change. The room be on the third floor, to the left all the way at the end of the hall. Number 12. The washroom is at the other end of the hall for all to share.”
“Thank you very much, sir.”
Jennifer nodded in greeting to those standing behind her in line as she smiled, making her way through the tavern portion to the back staircase. Indeed, she felt very proud of herself. Perhaps she had not walked all the way and found rides here and there the way she thought she would get to London, but nevertheless she had arrived in London. She was more than halfway to her goal of finding work, and she even had comfortable lodgings for a week to give her plenty of time, as well as nearly a shilling and 8 pence in her pocket to keep her from feeling panicked and destitute until her first payday.
She felt like an adult, more than Jacob had given her credit for. A child indeed?
She climb the stairs and wondered why even after departing from him, she still argued with him in her head, trying to prove herself to him, even though she knew she would never see him ever again. A sadness came over her. In truth, she did not know where his cottage was, for he had been very secretive about what part of Hertfordshire County they had been in.
Because they had travelled across green pasture and not roads, until the very last bit of their trip from his cottage to the Hertfordshire Inn, she did not know where or what Main Road his cottage was located from. He was a man that did not want to be found, and he knew exactly how to do it.
Upon reaching the top of the third floor she went to the left and all the way down the hall to the door marked with the number 12. She unlocked the door and entered.
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Jennifer entered the small room. It was very dark, with no light entering the small sl
it of a window on the far wall. Before closing the door, she walked to a candle and lit the wick. The dim light illuminated the small space efficiently and only then did she close and lock the door behind her. There was a very small wood burning stove in the corner and she was very glad for the source of heat and warmth. For September was already beginning to show signs of chilly nights. A small single cot lined against the wall, with folded blankets on top. There was a wash basin but no pitcher, and she would have to remember to fetch water for herself before turning in.
She went to work straight away, taking the candle to the wooden stove to light the log that waited inside. A box of straw for tinder was located on the ground next to it. She grabbed a handful and pushed it in, lighting it with the candle and slowly blowing on the fire until it ignited the log.
She stepped back and put her hands on her hips, looking around the room in the light of the fire. She nodded her head in agreement with her accomplishment. With a roof over her head, a warm fire burning, and a private space in the very active city of London, she had done very well for her first night.
The sounds coming off of the street were almost deafening, loud and chaotic. Carriage wheels rolling across cobblestone streets with shoed horses created a constant noise, mixed in with those on the street applauding and cheering the street performers, and just general conversation, created this loud noise of the city. Jennifer was not used to it at all, but it was both delightful and frightening at the same time.
Knock. Knock.
Jennifer was stunned and a bit frightened, for who would be knocking on her door?
She unlocked it and only held it open a crack to peer out into the dark hallway. A young girl with raven black hair and blue eyes stood there. Jennifer thought she was quite a pretty thing.
“Miss, I have water for your room,” she said. Jennifer noticed the pitcher of water in her hand.
“Oh, thank you very much,” Jennifer grabbed it from her.
“Would you be needing anything else, miss? Would you need supper brought to your room?”
“No, I am set for the night. Thank you.”
“If you need more water bring the pitcher down to the tavern counter,” the young woman said.
“Thank you, that is most kind.”
Jennifer smiled at the young woman, and then closed the door, locking it once more. She poured water into a cup and quenched her thirst. Then she unbuttoned her coat and pulled off her bonnet. She washed her hands and face in the basin, washing off the grime from the long journey. Then she carefully removed her boots and stockings, and soaked her foot in the basin, just as Jacob had taught her. In that moment, she could think of nothing else but his gorgeous blue eyes and strong body. In truth, he was always on her mind, and it was easier to say that she spent the majority of her hours thinking of him. Something she hoped would leave her in time.
Sitting on the cot with her foot in the basin, she opened her carpet bag and removed the half loaf of bread and half cheese that Jacob had purchased for her before the journey. Jennifer wanted to save as much money as possible, and she would not be eating a meal from the tavern that night. In truth, she wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and start fresh the next day. The journey had efficiently exhausted her.
After she was done eating, and soaking her foot, she was ready to turn in. But a feeling of fear gripped her. This would be the first time ever that she slept at a place alone. She had grown up in a house of people, and then living with Jacob, he was right on the ground next to her, keeping her safe. This time, she was all alone, and this realization hit her quite fast.
She walked to the door and made sure that it was locked, pulling on the latch several times. At this point she wished that she indeed had a chair to push under the latch and embrace the door. But there was no such furniture to be had. Having to be satisfied with the lock, she took off her clothes and climbed into the cot in her shift. It was not long before she was fast asleep.
At midnight, like clockwork, she awoke. She rolled in her bed, expecting to see Jacob on the floor. It took a few moments for her to remember that she was no longer with him. She was in a foreign place, and all alone. Dread overtook her. Had I made a mistake by leaving? Then again he did not offer to have me stay. Perhaps I could have found work in his nearby village, and sent money home from there. This feeling of sadness,overwhelmed her and she forced herself to close her eyes and escape that sadness with sleep.
The next morning, Jennifer awoke refreshed and rested and very excited to start her day in London. With the luxury of having lodging already paid for six nights, she could spend half the day searching for work and the other half wandering around the city seeing its grand lights. She dressed herself in a fresh dress and fresh stockings, remembering that she would need to wash what she wore the day before. But that would be something she could do in the evening when she had night time hours to spend.
She braided her red hair into a fresh braid over her shoulde, ready to take breakfast downstairs.
Descending the stairs, she could hear that the tavern was less populated than the day before, and she knew it was because she was awake very early indeed.
She sat down at a small table against the window, watching the city wake up.
“Did you have a good night of sleep?”
Jennifer looked to see the young woman that brought her water standing next to her. There was a polite smile on her face.
“Oh, yes indeed I did. Thank you very much for asking.”
“Good, we like all of our patrons to have a restful sleep. Will you be having a meal?”
“Yeah, tea and perhaps a meat pie.”
“That be a half pence, miss,” The young woman said.
Jennifer paid the young woman, and smiled. “Please call me Jennifer.”
“Alright, Jennifer. My name is Rebecca Hines. I will return with your tea.”
“Thank you.”
Jennifer turned to the window once more. The city was indeed waking up, and there were more carriages and horses on the cobblestone streets. People were pushing their carts full of goods out onto the sidewalk. She could sit and watch this all day if she could.
“Here you are, Jennifer. Hot black tea, sugar and cream,” Rebecca set pot of tea, a teacup, and two sugar cubes and a small bowl of cream down in front of her.
“Is this your first time in London?”
“Yes, is it that obvious?”
“Just a little bit, but I am very experienced in knowing what visitors look like. Working here and all.”
“I am not visiting. I am hoping to find factory work, and lodging.”
“What kind of factory work?”
“I am skilled with sewing.”
“That is a good skill. I might be able to help you. My cousin works in a sewing factory, making shirts and whatnot. It does not pay well, but no factory does. It may take one entire day to make one shirt and you earn four shillings for a dozen. You must provide your own candles too, in order to see in the factory, as even in the day it is dark inside. But if that is what you seek I might be able to help you.”
“Oh yes! That would be good. I am ever so grateful.”
“The factory is in Whitechapel. It is a walk from here. I can take you there after my shift after the noon lunch hour if you like?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Alright then, Jennifer. Let me fetch your meat pie.”
Jennifer was delighted and filled with joy. She has not been awake but an hour, and already she had a lead on a sewing job. London was looking to be a success for her after all.
She ate the deliciously thick meat pie, which was filled with peas, carrots, and lamb. The crust was nice and buttery, and it was exactly what she needed after eating bread and cheese for supper. The tea was very strong, just as she liked it.
After she ate, she had hours to spare. Therefore she walked back to London Bridge Station to watch the trains to her delight. Then she promenaded around the block, not straying too far. She took
the Borough High Street toward the river and watched from the riverbank.
She found it very shocking that children waded in mud up to their knees on the bank of the river during low tide. That could not be very clean, knowing that the sewage was dumped into the river. The children seemed to be collecting anything and everything they could. She realized it was in order for them to make a living, and it made her very sad to see children as young as her brother, and younger, doing this dirty work. This was London. This was poverty.
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“There are many like you, that come from the country to seek work in London.” Rebecca said to Jennifer as they walked along the bank of the Thames River heading east.
“That does make sense indeed considering there is no work to be had in the country. It is very important that I find work in order to send money home to my mother and brother. Otherwise, they could starve in the winter.”
“Then we shall do our best to find you work.”
“Thank you. What of lodging? Does this particular factory work with a workhouse?”
“It does not. You don't want to live in a workhouse either way. It is most dreadful. Unimaginable conditions that no human should have to live in. Unless you find one of the few that are very small, and are for women only. But there are few of those in the city.”
“Would you recommend lodging to me then? If, that is, the actory you speak of offers me work?”
“Yes, your best bet is to rent a room from a family that has their own lodging. But if that cannot be acquired, then you want to get lodging in a shared room in a lodging-house. It will cost you, but I think it is better to pay yourself than to have a workhouse take their cut. You never know if they be true to what you should be charged for a room and board.”
Jennifer was most grateful to get all of this information. For she had a plan to find the workhouse of Mrs Hannah Wilcox, but she did not know exactly what the wage would be and how much the workhouse would take from her factory earnings in order to pay and cover her room and board. Rebecca was very knowledgeable in these things. She almost wished that to Rebecca worked at a factory and they would be working alongside together. The Rebecca had a better line of work, working in a tavern with hard work, but not as hard as 12 to 15 hours in a factory sewing by candlelight. The tavern was sociable, and taking firewood and water to the rooms of patrons and washing sheets it's like tending to a large house, something that Jennifer could easily become accustomed to.
Passage of a Desolate Woman (#2, the Winds of Misery Victorian Romance) (A Family Saga Novel) Page 8
