The Winter Orphan

by Cathy Sharp

  ‘Your name is easy to write,’ Hannah said coming up to Bella as they left the room. ‘But you have a lot to learn.’

  ‘Would you teach me?’ Bella asked and the girl nodded.

  ‘If I get the chance, yes, I will. I am in the sewing room, so if Matron sends you there we can work on your letters as we mend.’

  Bella smiled and thanked her. It was another reason to hope that she might be sent to the sewing room sooner rather than later. She had enjoyed the class and thirsted for more knowledge. Perhaps it might be better to stay here for longer than she’d planned. She could learn things that would help her make a better life for herself – and if she gave herself time to really think things through, her plans to escape might succeed. She did not want to get caught within hours and be brought back to Matron for punishment.

  Also, she reasoned, some of the other girls were friendly here. Matron was strict and Bella had been warned that she could suddenly be spiteful if she chose, but at least she did not hit the girls all the time and so it was a better place than the one Bella had grown up in.

  Bella remembered the gentleman, Mr Stoneham, who had promised to return to Annie’s and help her if she needed it. She had missed her chance of that, though she did not know what he could have done to help her. He would probably have taken her to another workhouse, where she might be no better off than she was here.

  Given the choice, Bella thought she would like to return to Farmer Green’s house, but he could not afford to pay her master for her. When she left, she must have a clear idea in her mind where she was going and what she wanted to do. To simply run away with no idea of where to go would end in her being caught again, so next time she would be prepared. In another year or so she would be old enough to find work for herself – and this place was not so very bad as long as she had friends like Phyllis and Hannah.

  CHAPTER 18

  Houghton Hall was a good, substantial manor house which had been well preserved and modernised. The old moat had been grassed over and was set with daffodils, which looked glorious on this bright spring morning. There were almost thirty rooms of various sizes, which meant accommodation would be cosier than dormitories, with perhaps three or four beds in each room. Arthur considered whether families should be allowed to live together in individual units, but decided, regretfully, that that idea might be a step too far. However, there were several good reception rooms, some of which would be used for dining, the infirmary and necessary offices, but there was a large one that he thought might be called a meeting room. Here, the men, women and children might be able to meet for an hour at the end of the working day and perhaps on Sundays after the church service they could get together for a few hours. It was more than they were given in most workhouses and would be welcomed by the inmates, he was sure.

  Such an innovation would be frowned upon by many who planned, opened and ran workhouses, but would surely contribute to a healthy and happy life for the inmates. The workhouse was intended as a place of refuge where those in trouble could come to rest, recover and then work for their board, and though many signed themselves out as soon as they could find work to their liking, many others preferred its safety. It was not easy when times were hard to keep a roof over a family’s head and the work was sometimes scarce outside the workhouse – and every bit as demanding as within its walls. Some were able to secure good, skilled work for their inmates, but others did only menial tasks that paid scant wages. Most were supported at great cost by their local communities, who grumbled at the levy demanded for such things.

  However, here at Houghton Hall there were many outhouses which could be turned into craft shops. Arthur’s vision was of a disciplined, hard-working community who could support themselves after a period of time. Many of the elderly he wanted to bring here were only fit for light duties, but he would choose the others with care and begin what could be a thriving little community, mostly self-sustaining, on this estate. Some of the children and elderly could even help with the animals: chickens for eggs and eating, cows for milking, pigs and ducks – there were already some clustered around a small pond, making a noise.

  The picture created made him smile, though he knew that perhaps he expected too much and would never achieve the half of it, but at least he could give those who wished for such a life a chance. He walked the estate with the agent, inspected all the buildings and declared himself satisfied with the price of five thousand pounds, to include all the land as far as the river.

  ‘It is good land, sir,’ the agent declared. ‘A farmer who knows his business could keep his family in luxury here.’

  ‘There is enough to keep a community of some thirty to forty folk in food,’ Arthur said, ‘and that is what I require. Food grown by their own hands, fresh and sufficient to see all well-fed – and craft workshops for those with a trade.’

  ‘It sounds rather like the manor system of old,’ the land agent remarked thoughtfully. ‘It was a good way too for many years.’

  ‘Yes, something like the manorial system of old, but without a knight or a lord to oversee it. Just a master and mistress to keep things peaceful and see that it does not end in chaos is what I hope for,’ Arthur said enthusiastically.

  The agent nodded and smiled. ‘You will forgive me if I say I think you unlikely to succeed in such an aim – but the estate is good and will not let you down if you use it well.’

  Arthur agreed and thanked him and they came to an arrangement for its purchase. It was a pleasant estate and once settled by men and women prepared to work should provide a good living for them all.

  ‘I shall prepare the documents,’ the agent assured him, ‘and you should be able to move your people within a short time.’

  Arthur took his leave and decided that he would return to London and search for the right people to run his new venture, which was perhaps the most adventurous he had tried. It was something new, though its origins were in an old feudal system that had flourished in England for centuries and Arthur had a good feeling about the future there.

  His remaining problem was the whereabouts of Bella. Her fate bothered him because as yet there was no word concerning her and he needed to find Bella and take her to safety. Reluctantly, having made inquiries locally himself but found nothing, Arthur had decided that it would be best to leave agents he trusted to search for the girl. They would visit workhouses, make inquiries of magistrates, infirmaries and even nunneries, and he could only pray that she lived and that he would be able to make her life a happy one. In the meantime, he must return to London for there were many matters that needed his attention. He had neglected his affairs and it was time he put his life in order.

  Hetty had refused his offer of marriage and he was slowly coming to realise that he had hurt her. Arthur frowned as he thought about her reaction to his offer. She had turned from him as if he had insulted her and he’d seen that she was close to tears and wondered what had affected her so.

  Could it be that Hetty was in love with him? And if so – what did he feel? Arthur frowned as he collected his things from the inn and sent a messenger to let Hetty know that he would return in about two weeks’ time. He was thoughtful, remembering Hetty’s arms about him when he had been torn by grief and in the depths of despair. That had been years ago and he had long ceased to think of those times. Hetty had been a whore then but she had left that place of shame and made a new life for herself and Arthur respected her for her strength of will and her compassion for others. Arthur had come to rely on her for so many things without realising it – and until recently he had not truly understood how much her support and friendship had meant to him.

  He knew that they had reached a crossroads in their relationship and he needed to think about what that meant – and to understand his heart before he saw her again. For without Hetty there would be a huge gap in his life.

  Bella wiped her hands after scrubbing the floor. Phyllis had been sent to the laundry and she and two other girls had been given the task of sc
rubbing the dormitories.

  ‘Matron wants you,’ one of the other inmates told her. ‘You’re to go to her office now.’

  Bella finished wiping her hands. They were red and sore, the skin starting to crack between the fingers, and she had nothing to rub into them to help the pain. She had hoped that she would be given a different job but for the last two weeks she had been put to scrubbing in the mornings, while in the afternoons she helped sort the dirty linen and put it into the copper to boil, ready for the morning. Every day there were more garments and sheets to wash, because there were more than sixty inmates in the workhouse and the laundry was always filled with steam and wet washing.

  Walking swiftly to Matron’s office, Bella knocked on the door and then entered. The woman was looking at something on her desk, frowning. She looked up, staring at Bella.

  ‘Your name is Bella – and you were indentured to a man name Karl Brett – is that not so?’

  Bella trembled as she looked at Matron, her eyes wide with fear. ‘You will not send me back? The master said that I could stay here!’

  ‘Someone is looking for you,’ Matron said. Her eyes gleamed. ‘A reward of ten guineas has been offered for news of your whereabouts …’

  Bella moved forward, her heart racing. ‘Please, please do not tell him where I am,’ she said. ‘He will beat me and work me to death. Oh, he is a cruel master.’

  ‘Ten guineas is a small fortune,’ Matron said, a spiteful gleam in her eyes. ‘Why should I not claim the reward?’

  Bella stared at her but said nothing. There was something about Matron that made her shiver.

  ‘You have nothing to say?’ Bella shook her head. ‘Go back to your work, girl. This afternoon you will join the sewing circle – I shall let you know if I have decided to claim the money – and if I do not, you will be grateful to me.’

  There was a barely veiled threat in Matron’s words that made Bella feel like running away. She curled her nails into the palms of her hands, willing herself not to show that she was frightened.

  Bella was trembling as she went to join the other women and girls for the midday meal. It was a soup made of vegetables with chunks of bread and it filled her up, though it was tasteless. She thought with longing of Polly’s kitchen with its enticing smells and tasty pies and bacon. Her throat stung with tears as she joined those helping to clear away the dirty dishes.

  ‘Bella,’ Phyllis said coming to her as she left the dining hall, ‘I wanted to say goodbye to you – I am leaving this afternoon. I am being sent to a new mistress and my job will be in the kitchens.’

  ‘It is what you wanted, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, I cannot wait to leave this place,’ Phyllis said and gave a little shiver. ‘I wanted to say goodbye – and to warn you again about Matron. Be careful of her Bella, she is spiteful and gains pleasure from inflicting pain.’

  Bella nodded. ‘She threatened to return me to my old master. I would rather run away than go back there.’

  ‘I have often thought of running away,’ Phyllis said. ‘But if you run away and they catch you, they will punish you.’

  Bella nodded. ‘I’ve been sent to the sewing room this afternoon.’

  ‘Then be very careful,’ Phyllis warned. ‘If Matron gives you privileges she will expect something in return.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Bella was puzzled. ‘What will she want of me?’

  ‘She will make you spy on others – and if you do not, she will beat you and give you all the worst jobs. I dare not tell you all – but she is not what she first seems, Bella, but an unkind and sometimes harsh woman.’

  ‘So that is why she threatened me,’ Bella said. ‘She wants me to be her spy – but I shall not. Even if she puts me to clearing the latrines I will not tell tales.’ She put her hand on Phyllis’ arm. ‘I am glad you have the job you wanted, but I shall miss you.’

  ‘I shall miss you too,’ her friend said. ‘If you get the chance ask the master if he will find you a place as a maidservant. It will be better than living here.’

  Bella nodded and they parted company. Bella was sorry that Phyllis was leaving but she knew her friend was glad. Phyllis was the only one who had truly been her friend and Bella would miss her. She was apprehensive about what Matron would ask of her and though she was glad to join the women in the sewing room, she wished that she could leave this place.

  Hannah greeted her with a smile and told her to sit next to her. ‘We have a sheet to mend today,’ she said. ‘Bide by me and we’ll do it together – and I’ll help you to learn your letters.’

  Bella thanked her. Hannah was no longer in the classroom in the evenings. She was fourteen now and she had been put to the sewing room and the laundry. Her hands looked red and sore.

  ‘We need some balm to sooth our hands,’ Hannah said. ‘It does not matter for these sheets, but if we were given delicate embroidery our rough hands would snag the silk.’

  ‘Florrie used to do delicate embroidery,’ Bella said a little wistfully. ‘She used a nice cream and gave me a little sometimes.’

  ‘I asked Matron for some cream,’ Hannah said, ‘but her price was too high.’

  ‘What did she want of you?’

  ‘She asked me to spy on others!’ Hannah looked angry. ‘I refused and she put me to the laundry and stopped me attending classes. I am no longer allowed to read books.’

  ‘I have never read a book.’ Bella looked at her in wonder. ‘Are there books you read for pleasure? I’ve only seen the books we use for learning – and the Bible.’

  ‘The master’s wife used to give me a story book sometimes,’ Hannah said, looking upset, ‘but Matron told her I did not deserve it and I have been denied all privileges.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Bella said and felt hot anger stir inside her. ‘It isn’t right that Matron should have the power to take everything from you.’

  ‘No,’ Hannah agreed and there were tears in her eyes. ‘The mistress said that I might be sent to work in a school, because I am a good teacher – but now I have been banned from the classes and my hopes are gone. Indeed, Matron says if I leave here I shall go to the nail factory.’

  Bella pressed her hand but there was no comfort she could offer, for such a place would be hell for a girl like Hannah. She knew that most of the girls here were unhappy. They were at the mercy of a mean, spiteful woman and she could do what she liked with them, withholding privileges if they displeased her.

  Bella had not been beaten since she’d come here, but she was discovering that there were other forms of punishment and she felt sorry for Hannah.

  Bella did her share of the mending and repeated the alphabet after her friend. Hannah was a good teacher and it was unfair that she had been robbed of her chance to do a job she would enjoy, something that might have given her a useful and happy life. Bella wished that there was someone she could turn to – someone she could ask for help, for both her and Hannah.

  Her thoughts turned to the gentleman who had come to the cottage. If only she had been able to contact him – and then she remembered the card he had given her. It was tucked inside her bodice with the florin she had not spent. She thought that she could copy the address now, but it cost money to send a letter and she needed paper and a pen and ink.

  It was impossible. Bella sighed. Even if she could write the letter, she did not know how to send it. Perhaps if she asked the mistress – the master’s wife was not unkind. She seemed to take little interest in the inmates apart from the children in her class, but there was a chance that she would take Bella’s florin and post a letter for her. First, though, she had to ask for paper and a pen to write it … Another sigh escaped her, because it was unlikely that any would come her way but someone else might know how she could get some.

  Bella showed the card to Hannah that evening after supper. She told her that she planned to write a letter asking Mr Stoneham to come and take them both away.

  ‘He asked if I needed help but foolishly I said no and
I daresay he thinks I am well settled,’ she told Hannah. ‘But I am sure he would help us both to find a good position if we asked him.’

  ‘He might do so for you but he does not know me …’ Hannah looked doubtful. ‘I could find a sheet of paper and some wax in the schoolroom desk – but how could we post it? We have no money.’

  ‘I have a florin,’ Bella said. ‘But I have to send the letter to London and I do not know if it is enough.’

  ‘If you only send one small piece of paper I think two sixpences would be enough,’ Hannah said, looking thoughtful. ‘I saw the master’s wife writing to her friend in London and she had it franked for two sixpences.’

  ‘Where do we do that?’ Bella asked and her heart sank as Hannah told her they must go to the Post Office in the town.

  ‘All post goes from there and the master sends someone to take the letters and bring back his post each morning.’ She hesitated, then, ‘Usually, one of the servants takes them and she cannot read. If we put your letter in the middle of the pile she would not notice it was different.’

  ‘Yes!’ Bella looked at her in excitement. ‘Could we do that?’

  ‘I do not see why not.’ Hannah caught her excitement. ‘You can write the letter but let me do the address. I can make it look a bit like the master’s hand and then no one will notice.’

  Bella giggled, because Hannah was being wicked and it was fun to share an adventure even if nothing happened.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Matron’s voice intervened. ‘Get to your dorms this instant or I shall report you to the master – and you, girl,’ she said pointing at Bella, ‘report to me in the morning. It’s time I found you more work to do.’

  Bella and Hannah fled. Neither of them wanted to be in trouble with Matron. Yet the warm glow they felt in sharing a secret did not leave them and they smiled at each other. If Bella’s letter reached Mr Stoneham, he might come and take them both away – out of reach of Matron’s spite.