“The cemetery is this way, follow me.” Billy put his arm out and Jennifer looped her arm in his. Together they walked in silence through the busy London cobblestone streets of the borough of Whitechapel. They headed east, away from the buildings. A small garden, five blocks long, was the pauper’s cemetery.
Rows and rows of markers, without much of identity written on boards, were all that these poorly departed were to receive.
A group of people gathered in between the rows near the trees. Three burials were happening at once, all of them without family relations. One small coffin let Jennifer know, it was her sweet Kevin. As soon as the sight met her, she erupted into tears, sobbing hard.
“It is all right. You deserve your cry, don't hold back. Keep your anger,” Billy whispered in her ear and patted her hand.
A clergyman opened his good book and began a service. Jennifer trembled as she listened and looked upon the small wooden box.
I should have taken him a month ago. I should have taken him back with me to Cottered where he could rest and regain his strength. He would be alive if I had not been so selfish, thinking of the money I needed. There could have been something I could do. I could find Jacob and beg him for money, he has plenty.
On and on the self torture continued as she watched the small box lower into the ground.
With the service over, Rebecca grab beda handful of black earth and tossed it on top of the coffin. Billy did the same, careful not to stray too far from Jennifer, as though he could feel her weak state.
Jennifer got on her knees, and placed the wrapped candy on the box. Then she grabbed a handful of earth, and tossed it on to the coffin. “Goodbye, my dear. I love you. May you find rest with the angels,” she sobbed.
Billy crouched down next to her, rubbing her back, consoling her. Jennifer looked to him, and anger spread throughout her body.
She reached into her coat pocket, and pulled out folded paper.
“Publish it.”
“ What?” Billy asked, grabbing the paper.
“You asked me to write of my experience at the factory. I wrote it Sunday night. But on Monday after hearing this news, I added this... Kevin. I want you to publish it. I name the factory; keep the name of the factory in the paper. Do not say my name, but say the name of the factory. Say the name of this poor boy, Kevin. Do it for him, do it for Kevin.” Jennifer sobbed.
Billy nodded his head and took the paper, and pushed it into the lapel of his coat. “It will be done. I promise you. That factory shall pay.”
Jennifer hugged him; he embraced her tightly.
“I need to go home. I do not feel well,” Jennifer said.
“Of course, let's get you home,” Rebecca said. Billy and Rebecca helped her to her feet, and escorted her back to the lodge house
“I will come by tomorrow after my shift. Get some rest, you have been through much.” Rebecca gave her a hug, outside the lodge house. Billy gave Jennifer a reassuring look, letting her know he would be publishing the article.
Inside, Jennifer returned to her bed, and cried until she fell asleep. This was the state of her, for a week complete. Sleeping, and mouring.
* * *
Jennifer felt the panic of being without a week’s wage the following Monday. To this she finally moved from her bed and room and set out to find what she had come to London to find in the first place, Mrs. Hannah Wilcox.
She already knew where the woman was located, because after working in the same commerce, people talked. Everyone knew which workhouses belonged with which factories, and she had heard the name Wilcox many times. She went straight away to her residence.
Climbing down the stairs to the service door, she knocked.
“What you be wanting?”
“I would like to speak with Mrs. Hannah Wilcox. I have a reference,” Jennifer pulled out a paper from her coat. She had wrote it herself, from the Roberts tailor shop in Cottered. she thought it would help, and she did not care that it was wrong. For the last week, nothing mattered to her. This effect had occurred because of the death of Kevin. Suddenly wrong did not seem wrong any longer.
“She not be here. She is at the workhouse lodging, overseeing some business.”
“Then would you be so kind to tell me where that is?”
“That way, four blocks. 72 Christian Street.”
“Thank you kindly.”
Jennifer walked away, moving fast. She did not want to miss the woman, crossing paths. Quickly, she walked down the cobblestone street, practicing what she would say to Mrs. Wilcox. Funny she had set out in August to speak with this woman, and only now, right before Christmas, would she finally speak with her. Perhaps the holiday season would make her be kind and accept her.
* * *
chapter
2 2
* * *
Jennifer knocked on the door of 72 Christian Street.
“What you be needing, Miss?” The woman answered the door.
“I have come to speak with Mrs. Wilcox. I have a reference,” Jennifer held at the paper.
“Come in, she is in the dining hall. I will take you to her,” The woman said.
Jennifer walked into the workhouse lodging. It was simple and from this point she could see that there were stairs that went up three flights. This was said to be an all woman's large house, and she hoped it to be true. Where she lived now the floor she lived on was for women only, but the other floors had men as well as full families. It was very crowded indeed, but was a roof over her head.
“Mrs. Wilcox, a girl here to see you about work. Says she has a reference, would you like to see her or do I send her out?” The woman said to a very thin woman with blond hair. Not at all what Jennifer expected to see.
The woman turned and eyed her, looking at her up and down.
“How are you with textiles?”
“I worked in the factory of Mr. Clark, sewing shirts for a few months. Before that I worked at the Robert’s tailor shop in Cottered, they are the ones that wrote me a reference. I am very good with sewing. I never miss a day, and I am quiet and get the job done.”
“Why did you leave the factory of Mr. Clark?”
Jennifer swallowed hard. She might as well tell the truth, and learn about what sort of factory Mrs. Wilcox was working.
“I could not watch the abuse of children ma'am. It is too much for me.”
“I understand. There are no children at the factory I supply workers to. You can be rest assured of that. But we do not sew by hand. The factory has the new sewing machines. They are hard machines to work and take a lot of strength. Are you willing to work a machine?”
“Yes ma’am. I learn very quickly.”
“Good. You are in luck, we have a place for you. Karen will show you. What is your name?”
“Jennifer Bronson ma'am. I would very much like to lodge here and work in the factory you supply workers to. I can start straight away.”
“Welcome, Jennifer Bronson. You may start tomorrow. All of the meals are served here, the other girls will fill you in as to what times. I must be on my way. You are free to move in as soon as may be. Karen, show her to the new empty room.”
“Thank you ma'am. I will not let you down ma'am.” Jennifer said very relieved.
“Right this way.” The maid said, leading her up the stairs. Jennifer would be going back for her things from the lodge house later, for now she wanted to see her new home.
* * *
Later that evening, Jennifer was settled in her new room at the workhouse. There were three beds in her room, and she was not used to having two roommates, but she would make do.
Not until thirty past the hour of seven, that life echoed through the building. The women had returned from their shifts at the factory. She prepared herself to meet her roommates.
The door opened. A blond young woman stepped in.
“Oh hello, who you be?” She said with the big smile across her face.
“My name is Jennifer Bronson. I start at the
factory tomorrow.”
“Hello Jennifer, my name be Mariah. I am glad that you are here. They just moved me into this room 2 days ago, when it came empty. One girl went home for Christmas, not to return. The other girl, well I heard she died of exhaustion, poor thing. Natalie, I did not know her, she was on a different floor both in the house and in the factory. Though I did see her time to time. So you see this room with 3 beds, I thought I would be all alone. I am glad that you are here,” She sat on her bed with a bounce.
Something this young woman said had Jennifer feeling rage once more, that this woman named Natalie had died of exhaustion. Then she thought of Kevin, and grief overcame her again.
“It is nice to meet you Mariah. I am going to turn in, I am very tired. Please do not feel like you must turn out the candle.”
Jennifer stood up and started to undress. It was obvious to her that this young woman wanted to converse, and get to know her, but Jennifer was still in a state of grief and was in no mood. Hearing the news of this Natalie, only made her feel worse.
“Turn in? But supper is just about to be served. Do you not want to go down and eat? It is included at this workhouse. Not sure if you know that. The wage that you earned, a portion of it goes to the workhouse for your lodging and food. Might as well eat it,” She said.
“I shall eat at breakfast. I am too tired. Thank you for the information,” She said.
“Oh, all right. Well I am just going to freshen up a bit, and then go down,” She poured water into a basin and washed her hands.
Jennifer knew that she was being curt with the woman, but in truth she did not want to make friends with her. She could not make another friend and then lose them to exhaustion from the factory work. Therefore it was best that they remained only roommates. Nothing more.
But Jennifer could feel her looking to her every now and then, wanting to start up a conversation. Jennifer would just look away not to make eye contact. Once the young woman left the room, Jennifer laid down and went to sleep. She wanted to be rested for the new day of work. A workplace without the horrors of watching children work, would be enough for her.
The following day, Jennifer was quick to learn the machines. They were very loud, deafening, and Jennifer did not mind it. For she did not want to indulge in small talk with her fellow workers. She wanted to retreat into her shell, because the period of mourning was still upon her.
The machines also meant that her fingers were not being pricked with a needle every few seconds, and this factory was well-lit; lots of windows lined the top row of the building and she was on the third floor where a lot of sunlight came in. Very few candles were needed, until the sunset. Then it was dark for nearly two hours and they worked in the dim light of candle light. Still, it was much easier because it was not hand-stitching; it was pushing cloth straight through the machine.
But on her walk home, she was glad to see a familiar face.
“Jennifer, there you are.” Rebecca said.
“Rebecca, so glad to see you. You received my message at the George Inn? I'm sorry, it happened very fast and I did not have time to tell you.” Jennifer said.
“Indeed I did. I had to have my boss read it to me, but it was very nice of you to send a note that you had moved lodgings. How do you like it so far?”
“I like it very well indeed. The lodge house is actually quite clean, compared to the last place, and it is only women living in it. The factory is far better as well, the machines are hard, but there are no children in this factory. The way that it should be,” Jennifer said.
“And one day it shall be. Take a look at this,” Rebecca pulled a pamphlet from her bag and handed it to Jennifer.
Jennifer's eyes grew wide. “ Is that..?”
“Yes, it is. Your writing is in it, among others. Billy's words are in there as well, very motivating. It just hit the streets this morning.” Rebecca handed it to her.
“I cannot wait to read it. You must think Billy for me,” Jennifer pushed the pamphlet into her coat.
“You can thank him yourself. You are coming to the next meeting are you not?”
Jennifer had not thought about it. It was all that she could do to get out of bed and go to work. She did not find herself in any social mood. But something in Rebecca's eyes begged her to attend.
“Yes, we shall go together.”
“Good. I must be making my way back. Before it is too late in the night. Keep that pamphlet in a secret place, the factory bosses don't like you to have that kind of material.”
“ I will. Good evening,” She gave Rebecca a hug, very grateful that she had friends to see her through this hard time. Though she wished that Jacob was there to console her and be at her side. He was never far from her thoughts; he had rescued her once, and she wanted him to rescue her again, from this strange life that she had stumbled into in London.
Jennifer took the pamphlet straight up to her room, and waited for Mariah to walk out to dinner. Then, she flipped through the four-page pamphlet, and found her story. It filled her with a fire, one that felt like it had been asleep since she started at the factory. It was awakening in her again, some semblance of the girl that had left her village fearless.
The pamphlet was filled with words of rebellion, of wanting decency in the workplace. She read every single word over and over again, until Mariah returned. In this pamphlet, she found comfort. Jennifer felt more excited than ever to attend a meeting again. She was ready to take part, take action.
* * *
chapter
2 3
* * *
“This is Timothy Mallard, he has just joined our cause,” Billy said, sitting in a booth across from Rebecca and Jennifer. They had just finished a Sunday meeting, and we're having an evening nightcap.
Jennifer looked at the man that had just slid into the booth next to Billy. She did not like the feel of him. He had red hair, just as she did, and freckles on his face. But he had a very hard look to him, as though he had done some things that needed to be kept secret. Jennifer turned to Rebecca, who also seemed a bit squeamish in her seat.
“Thank you for meeting me here, Timothy,” Billy said.
“I am here for the cause, and for the work. What do you have for me this night?”
“You are to ride northeast, to Hertfordshire.” Billy said.
Jennifer's eyes widened. She had not heard the name of her home county in months, except when she went to the post to send money home or a letter to Katrina. The only time she heard it was when the postmaster would say it back to her. Now she wondered what business Billy had there. She listened in carefully.
“You will ride to the crossroads of the old Roman Road, and Wessler. Tomorrow night at midnight you will meet a man, dressed all in black.”
Shock overwhelmed Jennifer and disbelief took hold of her at his words. They spoke of Jacob, it had to be.
She held her breath.
When you meet him you say these words; the night falls fast in Winter. To which he will reply, and the wind cuts like a knife. Then you will know that he is the correct man. You will hand him the coin, and he will hand you the papers that I seek. Do you have this correctly?”
“I do.” Timothy answered.
Billy gave him a look, and then placed a small bag with coin on the table, Jennifer did not know how much, or how Billy came across it. He had grown quite secretive as of late.
“Then go, I shall see you in two days’ time.”
Timothy grabbed the coin bag and left.
“Who is he meeting?” Jennifer asked.
“That is none of your concern. It is important matters, and the less you know the better. For both of you,” He said.
For a moment, she thought about running after Timothy, to beg him to take her with him. She would enter the long travel, if he was to meet Jacob. She longed to see him, to hear his voice again. She preferred those lazy weeks with him at his home, to this factory life. Jacob had been right, this life was too hard. She remembered him oppos
ing her going to London to work in the factory, letting her know that it was not for her. He had been right about that, but now it was too late.
But the fact that Billy now had business with him, was quite interesting indeed. She wondered if the man in black would come to London, and if so, would she ever see him?
“Jennifer, I brought you and Rebecca here, to tell you that the pamphlet has been quite a success. You saw the numbers at the meeting tonight, they have tripled. We continue in this manner, and in a year or two we will have enough numbers to be taken seriously. It is all because of your writing, Jennifer, it moved people. There are those that want children out of the factories just as you do, and your story showed them the truth. It showed those that think that the labour does nothing to children, but it does. I wanted to thank you, allow me to buy you a drink.”
“Thank you, Billy. It is not necessary though. I did it because it needed to be done.”
“Wine here!” he shouted to the bar maid. She nodded.
“Never the less, you two are having wine with me in celebratrion.”
* * *
January 1856
The door to Jennifer's room opened. Mariah sat up in bed, excited. She always seemed to be excited, and Jennifer felt bad that she was not able to be her companion, but she had much too much on her mind.
Karen had opened the door, showing in a new girl. She had brown hair, brown eyes, a pale complexion and a slender figure. From the looks of it, Jennifer thought she might be from the country just as she was.
Mariah quickly stood up and greeted her, and Jennifer was glad that she took her hostess duties very seriously. This way, Jennifer did not have to.
“My name is Mariah, I guess I be your roommate. That be Jennifer over there, she does not say much.”
Jennifer looked to Mariah. She was not going to apologise for not being very friendly and having lots of conversation. For she had been through a lot, and the fresh memory of Kevin was still on her mind as it had only been days since his death.
Passage of a Desolate Woman (#2, the Winds of Misery Victorian Romance) (A Family Saga Novel) Page 11
