The Workhouse Children

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  ‘Anything, we’ll do anything!’ The Relieving Officer replied with determination. Both men breathed a great sigh of relief. At least with labouring they would work with others and not alone as they previously had. The men leaned back in their chairs, grateful for the help about to be given from this young woman.

  ‘Good, but the problem I have to deal with first is getting those men into housing elsewhere.’

  Just then Molly burst through the parlour door, ‘Cara… you have to come and see this!’

  Cara excused herself, leaving the two men by the fireside wondering what had happened now.

  Molly held the front door open and Cara looked out. Plodding up her driveway were what she assumed were the blanket-wrapped inmates from the workhouse!

  Over fifty men were welcomed into the parlour, living room and kitchen amid the stares of the porter and Relieving Officer. With everyone crammed in, Charlie built up the fires.

  Some of the men, along with Gracie and Molly, helped with making tea and sorting out something to eat. Gracie fussed there would not possibly be enough food for everyone, so a handful of the others were sent to the market with a grocery list provided by Gracie and some money provided by Cara.

  Cara listened as yet others explained the events of the past few hours, which reiterated precisely what Frank had told her. Then she asked, ‘You are absolutely certain no one remains in the workhouse?’ Everyone began to speak at once. Cara’s hand went up and silence descended. She was assured the building stood empty, and with the Relieving Officer now sitting by her fireside, she knew there would be no more tickets handed out. Excitement rose in her that she may have finally achieved what she set out to do, but it was tinged with anxiety. She had to make the most of the situation while she had the chance.

  Leaving Molly and Gracie to administer to the men, Cara rushed to the telephone in the hall.

  ‘Martin, I need you… now!’ She said into the handset.

  *

  Later that same day, Isaac Ballard looked into the blue eyes of the young woman sat opposite him once more. ‘Miss Flowers, it’s nice to see you again… and so soon!’ The Chairman of the Local Government Board nodded across to Martin Lander, which was returned with a knowing smile.

  Cara cut to the chase. ‘Mr Ballard, your workhouse, as we speak, is having a closure notice hung on its gate.’

  Ballard’s mouth dropped open at the shock of her words. Even he had not yet received this news, being cloistered away in his Council office.

  A very excited Cara nodded, she was unable to prevent the wide grin spreading across her face as she went on, ‘Your porter and Relieving Officer are at this moment sat in my parlour having relinquished their posts, so there will be no more tickets issued to the poor of Bilston.’

  ‘How…? When…?’ Ballard spluttered. Shock resonated in him at how quickly Cara had succeeded in her quest.

  ‘The remaining inmates have left and are also now at my house. Therefore Mr Ballard, the workhouse is now officially closed!’ Cara’s smile was triumphant.

  ‘You don’t waste any time do you, Miss Flowers?’ Ballard finally located his tongue. ‘However, I must warn you, the council may well decide to reopen the place should it prove necessary. After all, you can’t take care of everyone, now can you?’

  ‘I do not let the grass grow under my feet, sir, and I agree with you, I can’t look after everybody who is homeless or jobless, much as I’d like to. However, the council will not be able to reopen the workhouse because… that building now belongs to me!’ Cara grinned widely.

  ‘You’ve bought the building?’ Ballard couldn’t believe his ears.

  ‘I have!’ Cara was ecstatic.

  ‘How on earth did you manage that?!’ Isaac Ballard was dumbfounded.

  Cara kept her cards close to her chest. It would not do to reveal how she had come by the acquisition of the old workhouse building. After all, she didn’t want it to become common knowledge that she had bribed Mr Simmons, the Chairman of the council. She had requested a meeting and after a lot of discussion the Chairman had acquiesced. The bribe had cost her almost as much as the building, but at least now it was hers to do with as she wished.

  Seeing Cara was not about to answer his previous question, he asked, ‘What, may I ask, do you intend to do with it now you have it?’

  ‘I was thinking I might renovate it and once complete it can be divided into apartments for anyone wishing to reside there. I felt it right to inform you myself, as you will now need, in turn, to inform Joseph Purcell and the other members of the Board of Guardians that they have been disbanded… unless of course you would like me to tell them?’ Cara’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

  Isaac Ballard laughed loudly, then said, ‘I’m sure you’d take great delight in that, Miss Flowers, however as it is my duty…’

  ‘Good luck with that, Mr Ballard,’ Cara laughed.

  Cara and Martin left a bewildered Isaac Ballard to his task. He would have to suffer the inevitable railings of a disgruntled one-time Chairman of the Board of Guardians, a man he had never really liked. Deep down he knew he was going to enjoy it.

  *

  It was Christmas Eve and Daisy and Charlie trundled off to bed as they did every night. Father Christmas had always forgotten them, they said, so why would this year be any different? Daisy had told Charlie that Cara was sure to buy them something for Christmas. The boy was not so sure. He tried to explain that their sister had spent an awful lot of money housing and feeding the poor people of Bilston. Daisy was adamant that they would both have a little something, so Charlie left her to enjoy the excitement of it all. He, on the other hand, went to bed as though it was just another night.

  Cara, Molly and Gracie excitedly wrapped sweets and toys in the warm kitchen. It was Cara’s first Christmas with her brother and sister, and she fully intended to make it a memorable one. A pretty rag doll for Daisy along with a doll’s house and a wooden fort and toy soldiers for Charlie. Sweets, nuts and fruit-filled woollen socks hung from the mantelpiece.

  The conversation turned to the men who had walked out of the workhouse.

  ‘At least they went back when you explained your plan to them,’ Gracie said.

  ‘Yes. I hated having to ask them, but once Christmas is over, the work can begin,’ Cara answered.

  Molly piped up, ‘There’s food and coal enough to see them over the holiday they said.’

  Nodding, Cara smiled as she remembered how they had sung carols as they trudged away from The Laburnums.

  Word had spread like wildfire around the town that Cara Flowers had beaten the system and closed the workhouse and many people considered it the town’s own Christmas miracle.

  Christmas morning dawned and Cara, Molly and Gracie delighted in the children’s excitement of not being forgotten by Santa Claus. Daisy was ecstatic at receiving a doll’s house. Charlie had thanked Cara quietly for his gifts. He whispered they really didn’t believe in Santa now as they were growing up, but they loved the gifts anyway. Cara hugged him for his kindness, saying she quite understood. She smiled inwardly at his eagerness to become a man.

  Martin Lander joined them for lunch and wine was poured.

  ‘A toast! To Cara’s incredible success over the last year!’ As glasses were replaced on the table, Martin slipped his hand into his pocket and he moved to face Cara. Bending on one knee, he lifted the lid of the tiny box in his hand. ‘Cara Flowers, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

  Gasps sounded around the dining room and eyes watched as everyone waited for Cara’s answer.

  *

  On the other side of town, Joseph Purcell ate his Christmas lunch alone as he usually did, his staff enjoying theirs in the kitchen. He had little appetite – the meeting a few days ago with the Local Government Board having seen to that.

  Cara Flowers had won. She had managed to close the workhouse and his position as Chairman was gone; just before Christmas too. The Board had been disbanded and the bu
ilding sold, and guess who had bought it? Cara bloody Flowers!

  Pushing his plate away, Joseph retired to the parlour, taking his wine with him.

  Staring into the fire, he saw Cara’s face in his mind’s eye; her blue eyes, her golden hair, her beautiful smile. Regardless of the workhouse debacle, he could not get her out of his head. Her gentle voice, her confidence, the passion of taking on the challenges she set herself. She had been a thorn in his side, but somehow the pain was bittersweet. She roused a desire in him… a desire to dominate a woman, which he had not felt in many years, but she also raised his frustration level to boiling point. His mixed emotions conflicted, leaving him exhausted but excited. He would love the challenge of bringing her to heel, to crush her and see her begging for mercy.

  Changing the course of his thoughts, he saw there was nothing more to be done regarding the ‘Spike’, but Joseph would be interested to see how the transformation would unfold. Ballard had informed him of Cara’s plans for the place. Once the renovations were complete, what then? How would Cara find work for those in residence? There were an awful lot of former inmates who would suddenly find themselves with nothing to fill their time. There was also the ‘Bread Line’, which grew steadily longer each day as more collieries closed, and now there was nowhere for the poor and homeless to go. Cara Flowers couldn’t feed and house them all.

  *

  ‘Martin,’ Cara said quietly as she looked at the man on bent knee before her, ‘I am surprised to say the least… I had not thought…’

  Everyone waited with bated breath, all eyes on her. Martin’s heart hammered in his chest. Was she about to refuse him? Did she not love him enough to accept his proposal? In his mind he saw her disappear from his life like a puff of smoke if she said no. He waited as she looked at the others.

  Looking back to the man shuffling his weight, she smiled and said, ‘My answer is yes!’

  Held breath escaped, bursting lungs in cheers as Martin placed the diamond ring on the third finger of her left hand.

  ‘Thank God for that!’ Martin said as he struggled to his feet. ‘My knees are killing me!’ Howls of laughter filled the room as they shared a chaste kiss.

  The laughter stopped abruptly as Daisy asked, ‘What will happen to us when you’m married then, Cara?’

  It was Martin who answered, ‘We’ll all live together, Daisy; it will be as it was before only I’ll be with you too. Now, how about we play with the toys Father Christmas brought you two rascals?’

  Charlie leapt forward and before long Martin and the children were rolling around the floor laughing and squealing out their pure joy.

  Martin’s words had not escaped Cara, it appeared he had their life together already mapped out. As she watched him playing with her brother and sister, an unease settled over her. Would it be like this when they were married? Would Martin be making the decisions for them both? If so, she would lose her independence. She wasn’t at all sure how she would cope with that.

  A great weight settled on her chest threatening to suffocate her. She had the most awful feeling she was making a dreadful mistake, but she had committed herself. She began to worry that Martin might intervene with her work with the poor of Bilston and try to put a stop to it. He might insist she stay home and have a family of their own. As she sat, she pondered these things. She did not wish to give up her work, and although one day she might like to have children of her own, that was something to consider in the future.

  Trying to put a brave face on for the sake of Daisy and Charlie, Cara found it very difficult to shake off the feeling of foreboding. So, she determined the best she could do for now was wait and see how things progressed.

  Twenty-Eight

  Everyone Cara had taken under her wing had a good Christmas for the first time in many years. There were roaring fires in repaired homes and hot meal on tables. Carols were sung and gifts were exchanged. Every family toasted Cara Flowers with whatever drink they had in hand.

  Once the holiday period was over, Gracie Cox accompanied Cara on her trip to the old workhouse where there were still men in residence; at least they were free to come and go at their leisure now. Armed with pen and paper, Cara was going to make plans for the building’s new usage. The cabbie she had used before was sat waiting in the street for a fare and he whistled across to the two women trudging through the snow. Cara beckoned him and with a smiled greeting they climbed aboard.

  The horse walked gingerly along the frozen streets, pulling the cab behind it. On reaching the dirt track, the residents of ‘Cara’s Cottages’ spilled out to pass the time of day with the women as the cab stopped. Excited children showed Cara what Santa had brought for them and the mothers thanked her for enabling them to have a wonderful Christmas outside of the workhouse. Eventually they moved on once more. The cabbie drove through the wrought-iron gates of the old ‘Spike’, which had been left wide open, and halted the horse just inside.

  Cara turned to Gracie and said, ‘First thing, the gate and wall will need to come down and… the place will need a new name!’

  Gracie frowned when she answered. ‘Cara, folk will always think of this place as the workhouse, I don’t think a new name will change that.’

  Standing looking at the old building, Cara knew Gracie was right. Cara determined to get rid of its old connotations and she now realized a new name would not be enough.

  Walking in through the front door, they were met by the men still in residence. Over tea in the warm kitchen, the chatter was bright and full of hope.

  ‘I need to have a good look around,’ Cara said at last, ‘so that I can decide how best to proceed.’

  One man stood up and volunteered to show her around the building. Gracie stood also; she wanted to see the other parts of the place.

  The women had already seen the office and the stone and bone crushing yards as well as the oakum shed, but they were shocked at the dormitories.

  ‘This where the kiddies slept?’ Gracie asked in horror. The man nodded, sadness clouding his eyes. ‘Good God!’ She snapped.

  The men’s and women’s dormitories were no better.

  Moving on to the Master’s living room, Cara registered the stark contrast between this relative luxury and the bareness of the dormitories.

  Cara looked out of windows which graced all four walls, each peering out across an arm of the building and its accompanying exercise yard. The layout of the building bore testament to the total segregation suffered by the inmates. The whole place could be viewed from this one room. The more she saw, the more she hated it. The medical ward was clean at least and Cara suspected that to be the doctor’s doing.

  Once more in the kitchen, Cara said, ‘I have made my decision. This place is to be pulled down! I intend to have houses built on the land.’ Applause sounded. The question facing her now was what to do with the men chatting happily around her. Cara listened but registered nothing of what was being said. Her mind was in turmoil. The men could remain in part of the building when the work of demolition began, but she felt that to be an unsatisfactory solution. She had to find them alternative accommodation – and soon.

  *

  Sam Yale was in the kitchen with Molly and the children when Cara and Gracie arrived home. He had brought the rent from the cottagers across town and an update on their welfare. Wally Webb soon arrived from ‘Cara’s Cottages’ for the same reasons.

  Gathered in the warmth of her kitchen, Cara explained her predicament. ‘I have to move those men out but there’s nowhere for them to go.’

  Wally said quietly, ‘Beggin’ your pardon, Cara, but if everyone at Sam’s end and everyone at my end took in one, maybe two, for the duration of the work… would that help?’

  ‘Wally! That would be the perfect solution, but would there be enough room? And… what will the women say about it?’

  ‘Our women will say bugger all if they know it’s helping you out!’ Wally laughed.

  ‘Then would you ask them on my behalf? After
all, the worst that can be said is no.’ Cara gave a cheeky grin. Her excitement mounted as she allowed herself to believe her plan could now actually work. With the men in alternative accommodation, she hoped the work to be undertaken would be done as swiftly as possible. The sooner that workhouse was demolished, the better.

  Wally and Sam set off with the request and Cara telephoned her fiancé, with another favour to ask. ‘Martin, do you know anyone who can draw up housing plans?’ She asked. Noting down the name and telephone number he gave her, Cara thanked him. They chatted for a couple of minutes then Cara telephoned the man Martin had recommended.

  Bill Rowley was an architect held in high esteem in the town.

  ‘Mr Rowley, Cara Flowers here,’ she said, ‘I wonder if I may have a moment of your time.’ Cara explained her plan to demolish the old workhouse and build housing in its place, and finished with, ‘I would be most grateful for your assistance, thank you.’

  Cara was delighted Bill agreed to look over the area as soon as possible and draw up some plans for her approval. She had stressed the need for haste and Bill assured her he was on the way out of the door the moment their conversation ended. Cara danced her way back to the kitchen deliriously happy.

  Bill Rowley wanted the work. He wanted to be instrumental in seeing the old ‘Spike’ disappear, and he knew Cara Flowers would not let the grass grow under her feet regarding this particular project. Grabbing his coat, he left the house to look over the old ‘Spike’.

  Within the week the men from the workhouse were taken in by the cottagers and some welcomed into the living area of ‘Cara’s Cakes’. It was a squeeze, with some sleeping in the living rooms, but knowing the plan for the new housing site, everyone made do. Cara couldn’t believe how quickly things were moving.

  Bill Rowley gathered the men and explained the best way to dismantle the wall that had surrounded the workhouse and pile up the bricks to be reused. Cara had given Bill Rowley carte blanche to get the project underway after he had agreed to her proposals. The great wrought-iron gate was taken down, leaving the building in full view. Although not many people of the town ventured that way as a rule, curiosity won out and it was not long before they stood around in groups to watch the work going on. They wanted to see with their own eyes if what they’d heard was true; that the old workhouse was being taken down. Newspaper reporters were busy writing articles on the new venture Cara Flowers had undertaken. Yet another challenge taken on, yet another to be accomplished.