The Five Shilling Children

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The Five Shilling Children Page 2

by Lindsey Hutchinson

‘Oh Minnie, look at the state of you again! That man wants hanging for the way he treats you!’

  Unable to explain what had happened for the pain in her head, she simply allowed Flo’ to take John who was yelling his little lungs out. Pushing her little finger into the baby’s mouth, Flo’ felt him suck hard.

  ‘I heard all the shouting and guessed he was at it again, the bully,’ Flo’ said as she looked at Minnie’s face where she’d been struck.

  Still in shock Minnie couldn’t speak. All that could be heard was her ragged breathing as she tried not to scream her anguish out loud.

  Having settled John in his box bed, Flo’ stroked the shoulder of her friend. ‘I’d best not be here when he comes back eh?’

  Minnie nodded, her tear-filled eyes showing thanks for Flo’s help and concern.

  Meanwhile, father, son and daughter walked along the tramway smartly and Polly had to run to keep up. The autumn chill hung in the air and a dampness settled on them as they passed rows of dirty houses much like their own. The cold cobblestones stung Polly’s bare feet and her chest ached as the wind took her breath away.

  Crossing the bridge that spanned the Birmingham Canal, there was no time to linger to watch the narrowboats chugging along. Adam smelled the filth of rotting food which had been dumped into the dirty water and his belly rumbled, reminding him of his raging hunger.

  On they strode, past the Wolverhampton Union Workhouse with its imposing wrought iron gates. Adam glanced at the lodge where the porter resided during the day and he shivered. At least they weren’t going in there! On they went, passing a few of the workhouse outbuildings until they came to Jenner Street. Walking its length, they didn’t stop until they reached the corner where it joined Steelhouse Lane.

  Polly had begun to cry again, complaining about the cold which penetrated through her summer dress and the cardigan which was starting to unravel. Adam had no jacket he could give her; he was dressed only in a shirt and waistcoat, ragged trousers which were too short and Peter’s old boots which had holes in the soles.

  Stopping at last, Gerald knocked on the front door of one of the houses and waited. Presently it was opened by a stern looking woman dressed in a long black dress. Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun and her dark eyes moved to each of them in turn. Nodding she held the door open for them to enter. Gerald stepped in, dragging the children with him. Closing the door, the woman then led them to a warm kitchen.

  ‘How much?’ Gerald asked tilting his head to Adam and Polly.

  ‘Five shillings each,’ the woman answered, instantly seeing the profit to be made once she sold them on.

  Gerald nodded and letting go of his children’s hands he pushed them forward and took the money held out to him. Turning on his heel, Gerald left without looking back.

  ‘Daddy!’ Polly yelled trying to run after her fleeing father. Suddenly she was grabbed by the woman in black.

  ‘Now then, we’ll have none of that, little lady!’ she said sharply.

  Polly wriggled herself out of the woman’s grasp and sobbing she ran to hide behind Adam who had watched the whole thing in shocked silence. Even being so young, he realised what had just occurred. His father had just sold them both – his two children – for five shillings each!

  ‘What are your names?’ the woman snapped.

  ‘Adam and Pollyanna Fitch,’ Adam answered over the din of his sister’s crying.

  ‘Right, you can come along with me. The first thing is for you both to have a bath. We need to wash that filth off. You will have a uniform to wear and then you can have some breakfast.’ Una Reed led them through to the kitchen where two tin baths were dragged in from the scullery by the maid at Una’s request and now sat waiting to be filled.

  ‘Get those dirty clothes off and Miss Ashby will be with you in a moment.’ The stern woman stalked off leaving the children to do her bidding.

  ‘I want Mummy,’ Polly cried.

  ‘I know, but we have to live here now, Polly,’ Adam said helplessly as he watched her take off her cardigan.

  ‘I don’t want to!’ Polly railed, throwing the garment on the floor.

  ‘Hush, look that lady said we can have something to eat, that’ll be nice, won’t it?’ Adam spoke quietly trying to stem his sister’s tears, as well as hold back his own.

  Polly nodded then turned as a voice sounded.

  ‘Oh hello, Adam and Pollyanna. My name is Miss Ashby. Come and sit by the fire while I fill your baths.’ Bright blue eyes smiled at the children as she ushered them to chairs set by a glowing fire. Fair hair surrounded a kindly face as she gave them each a piece of bread covered in dripping which she prepared at the great wooden table in the centre of the kitchen. ‘You eat that then you can have a bath.’

  ‘Is this breakfast?’ Adam asked innocently.

  ‘No child, it’s porridge for breakfast in this house.’ Ruth Ashby smiled again as she set to filling the tin tubs with pans of water warming on the range. ‘There now, come on, Pollyanna – in you get. It’s nice and warm.’

  ‘I like to be called Polly,’ the young girl said stiffly as she shucked her clothes and stepped into the water. Sitting down, her attention immediately returned to her bread and dripping.

  ‘Fair enough then, Polly. Now, Adam, that’s your bath there whenever you’re ready,’ Miss Ashby said gently.

  Adam had taken a liking to this lady immediately; she was kind and she had a soft voice – not like his mother’s harsh yelling. Stripping off his clothes he got into the warm water and soon began to feel a little better.

  Miss Ashby washed Polly thoroughly including her hair, then wrapped her in a huge fluffy towel and sat her by the fire again. Then it was Adam’s turn. He was not happy about being bathed by a strange woman, and he covered himself with his hands. Seeing his embarrassment, Ruth Ashby washed his hair then gave him the soap. ‘I think you’re old enough to bath yourself, Adam.’ Returning to Polly she rubbed the child’s hair with another towel whilst Adam bathed quietly.

  Once they were dressed in the drab grey uniform, the children were taken to another room and given a steaming bowl of porridge covered in milk and sugar. They wolfed down their breakfast and scraped the bowls clean.

  Ruth Ashby watched them eat and her heart went out to them. Another two unwanted children, sold for the price of five shillings. She shook her head imperceptibly. God knew when these two had eaten last, the poor mites were half starved. A cup of tea and a slice of toast later, Polly and Adam were taken upstairs.

  ‘Adam, you will sleep in here with Joseph, he’s a nice boy. Polly you will sleep in the next room with May.’ Ruth Ashby smiled again.

  Polly shook her head as she shoved her fingers into her mouth.

  Ruth bent down and spoke quietly to the little girl as she gently pulled Polly’s hand away from her face. ‘You will like May, she’s the same age as you, but she has no-one to play with. She wants a friend, Polly. Will you be her friend?’ Polly nodded. ‘Good girl.’

  Turning to Adam, Ruth said, ‘That’s your bed, Adam. Now if you get cold there’s another blanket in the tallboy. Would you like to see Polly’s room now?’

  ‘Yes please,’ Adam answered still feeling overwhelmed by all that had happened in such a short time.

  Moving next door Polly was shown her bed. ‘Mine?’ she asked in surprise.

  ‘Yes yours. All to yourself and May sleeps in that one.’ Ruth pointed to the other bed.

  ‘Ad’ – my bed!’ Polly said with a grin, her tears forgotten at the thought of having her own place to sleep.

  ‘I know, you’re a big girl now,’ Adam said as he ruffled her damp hair.

  ‘Miss Ashby, was the other lady Miss Reed?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, dear, she can be a bit severe at times but don’t you worry I’ll look after you both,’ Ruth answered. ‘Now, it’s time for school.’

  ‘We’ve never been to school, Miss,’ Adam said a feeling of fear creeping over him.

  ‘Oh we don’t se
nd you out to school, dear, we have our own teacher – Miss Brock. You’ll like her, she plays games in class.’ Ruth Ashby’s face lit up when she saw Polly smile for the second time in as many minutes. It always amazed her how resilient children could be.

  Led to a room which looked as though it had once been a parlour, the children were introduced to their teacher. Celia Brock was a young woman with mousy hair and kind hazel eyes.

  ‘Welcome, come and take a seat, we have two places here at the front. Thank you, Miss Ashby,’ she said with a gentle voice.

  Ruth left wondering how the new children would get on never having had any academic tuition.

  It wasn’t long before Celia Brock knew that her new intake were both illiterate so setting the other four children some work to do, she sat with Adam and Polly.

  The others there had stared at the newcomers who had come to join their class, but after a while and a glare from Adam, they had settled to their schoolwork once more.

  All morning Miss Brock gently taught them how to hold a chalk and form the letters of their names on their slates.

  Praising all the children often, she realised these two new ones were like sponges, soaking up the information given to them very quickly. By lunchtime Polly and Adam could write their names, as well as the date 1st September 1890, without assistance.

  A hand bell sounded and Adam and Polly followed the others into the dining room. As they entered, they picked up a bowl and spoon and a cup. Moving along the line they were served with a thick mutton stew, a chunk of fresh bread and a cup of milky tea.

  Adam’s eyes glittered in the dim gas lights when he saw the food. It had been a very long time since they had eaten this well. All morning they had smelled the tantalising aroma of cooking food and Adam’s mouth watered.

  Taking their food to a large round table they joined the others to eat their lunch.

  ‘I’m Joseph Blunt and I’m ten – everybody calls me Joe,’ a small thin boy said. He pushed his ginger hair out of his pale face as he spoke. He had a winning smile and Adam warmed to him immediately.

  ‘I’m May Johnson and I’m eight. That’s my brother Arthur – he’s ten,’ a pretty blonde girl said. Her blue eyes twinkled as she pointed to a boy sat next to Joe.

  ‘My name is Matthew Rodden and I’m ten an’ all. Call me Matt.’ Dark brown eyes smiled from beneath a mass of black hair.

  ‘Adam and Polly Fitch.’ Adam spoke between each mouthful of food. It was his contention that whilst he was speaking, he was missing a bite. Polly just ate, although her eyes roamed from one person to another.

  When they had all finished Adam asked, ‘What happens now?’

  ‘We have pudding!’ Joseph said with a grin. ‘Come on, I’ll show you.’

  Taking their dirty crockery, they placed it in a massive tin bowl then collected a clean dish and spoon. Apple pie and custard was carried carefully to the table.

  Adam was reeling from the amount of food served in one go and felt sure this would be all they would have for days. He wasn’t complaining though; his mum never gave them anything like this. Thoughts of his mother stung, and although she had been unable to prevent them being sold, he missed her.

  Disposing of their crockery once more, Matt led them all out into the back yard. It was already chilly for autumn but they barely noticed it as they ran around playing ‘tag’.

  Polly and May sat in a corner of the yard where there were old dolls to play with. Shy with her new friend to begin with, Polly soon became engrossed in their game of happy families.

  A while later the hand bell sounded again and the children all trooped back to the classroom. The afternoon was spent playing games with numbers.

  Neither of the Fitch children had time to think much about their parents or brothers during this time – they were having far too much fun.

  Adam couldn’t believe it when they collected their evening meal which consisted of faggots, peas and potatoes smothered in rich onion gravy. Each child had an apple for afters. Then they were allowed out to play for an hour.

  The sun slowly moved towards the horizon and the golden and brown leaves began to flutter from their branches in their final days of life. The air felt cooler as the afternoon wore on and tired children were called indoors to complete their ablutions before retiring to bed.

  Adam took Polly to the room she was sharing with May Johnson. ‘You’ll be all right now cos you’ve got May, so I’ll see you in the mornin’.’ Adam kissed his little sister on the top of her head.

  Polly wrapped her thin little arms around him holding him tight. ‘I had a nice day, our Ad’.’

  ‘Good, and tomorrow we’ll have another. So, you sleep tight.’

  Going next door to his own room he saw a pair of cotton pyjamas on his bed. Taking off his uniform he looked around.

  ‘Hang it in the tallboy otherwise Old Reedy will have a fit!’ Joe said as he walked in. ‘She likes a place for everything and everything in its place, does Old Reedy.’

  ‘Why do you call her that?’ Adam asked.

  ‘Cos Reed’s her name and she’s tall and thin like a reed in a pond,’ Joe laughed, ‘but I make sure she doesn’t hear me.’

  Climbing into their respective beds, the boys listened to May and Polly giggling next door. Adam smiled to himself. At least his sister seemed happier.

  ‘How come you’re in here?’ Adam asked.

  ‘My folks died of the pneumonia last year,’ Joe said resignedly.

  ‘Sorry to hear it,’ Adam mumbled feeling sorry for his new friend. At least his parents were still alive even if he couldn’t be with them.

  ‘What about you?’ Joseph asked.

  ‘Our father didn’t want us. He sold us for five shillings each cos they could only afford to feed our brothers and the baby.’ Adam felt the tears of hurt and indignation sting his eyes.

  ‘That’s rotten luck,’ Joe muttered.

  ‘I’m not so sure it is,’ Adam said. ‘At least we get fed here and we’re learning our letters and numbers.’

  ‘Shush! Old Reedy’s coming!’ Joe whispered.

  The door flew open and Una Reed stepped inside. Turning off the gas lamp she said goodnight and swept out again closing the door behind her.

  Adam lay in the darkness thinking about his very first day away from home. Although he missed his family, he definitely didn’t miss the shouting and arguing or the going hungry. Today had been like being on a lovely holiday and he hoped tomorrow would be just as good.

  All was quiet now and he supposed Polly must be sleeping. He could hear Joseph’s even breathing and he wondered why this place had such a bad reputation. With a full belly and a tired brain, Adam Fitch drifted into the best night’s sleep of his young life.

  3

  Over the first week they were at Miss Reed’s Adam learned that the orphanage, although not council run, was given some funding. It also relied heavily on donations from wealthy families.

  It appeared that Una Reed and Ruth Ashby, living next door to each other in fine big houses, had decided to open their homes to the less fortunate children of the town. Mainly taking in orphans, their remit stretched to those such as Polly and Adam when the need arose.

  Having been left a sum of money by her parents on their passing, Una ploughed it into the business, for that’s what it was to her. It was an easy way to expand her personal coffers and so she had opened Reed’s Orphanage.

  Adam was unable to understand the workings of the business side, all he knew was – he actually liked it there. Polly did too; she laughed all the time now and had shed no more tears. She and May had become inseparable.

  At present there was just the six of them with room for two more in this house. Next door in what was Miss Ashby’s house, were eight older children – all boys. Being in their teens they were working at various jobs and paid Miss Reed a nominal fee for board and lodging. It would not be too much longer before they would move on and leave their places available for a new intake.
r />   On Sundays the children were taken up past the Staffordshire General Hospital and on to St George’s Church for Sunday morning service. After lunch they were then given swimming lessons at the public baths in East Park.

  Life was sweet for Polly and Adam until early one morning a commotion could be heard throughout the house. A new child was being brought in and was clearly not happy about it. The yelling reverberated around the house until quite suddenly the silence that fell was deafening.

  Adam and Joe were dressing and stopped what they were doing to look at each other. Joe shrugged his shoulders and continued to dress. Adam was eager to see the new child who had caused all the noise.

  He didn’t have to wait long for as they sat at the table with their porridge, Miss Reed strode in dragging a boy of about twelve years of age along with her.

  ‘Get your food and sit – quietly!’ she snapped at the child.

  Adam eyed the newcomer. Overweight with small piggy eyes the boy waddled along with his dish and spoon. The maid served a dollop of porridge into his bowl and the boy looked at it.

  ‘Is that all?’ he yelled at the maid disgustedly.

  The servant shot a glance at Una Reed standing in the doorway. A shake of the head told the young woman not to give the boy any more.

  ‘That’s it. Milk and sugar is over there, help yourself,’ the maid said.

  ‘I’ll bloody starve living ’ere!’ the boy yelled.

  Miss Reed strode forward and grasping the boy’s ear she guided him to the table and forced him onto a chair.

  ‘Hey, what about my milk and sugar?’ the boy protested.

  ‘Rodney Dukes, we will not put up with bad language here, and because of yours you will do without. Now eat then follow on into the school room.’ Miss Reed clasped her hands in front of her, then spun on her heel and returned to her spot by the door.

  Adam raised his eyebrows at Joe and continued to eat. He had a feeling this new boy, Rodney, was going to upset the peaceful regime of the house.

  Wolfing down his food, Rodney threw his spoon into the bowl and stood up.

  ‘What you lot lookin’ at?’ he shouted before walking to the door.

 

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