The Workhouse Children

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  Joshua smiled and nodded. Poor she may be, but Liza Townsend appeared to be a well-educated woman. Her use of language and her interest in reading attested to the fact. This only emphasized the fact that Liza didn’t belong here.

  Liza continued, ‘We all have to die, doctor, it eventually comes to us all. However my young daughter, Phoebe, was an innocent and didn’t deserve to slip off her mortal coil in such a manner.’

  This was the first time he had learned the child’s name; the little one he had so carefully laid out ready for burial. He looked over at the superintendent and her nod said it all – I told you she shouldn’t be in here!

  ‘Mrs Townsend…’ the doctor began.

  ‘Liza, please call me Liza, if anyone has deserved the right, you have.’

  ‘Liza,’ he began again, ‘I am at the moment seeking accommodation for you outside of this place and hopefully employment also. Then the superintendent has agreed that you can be released into my custody.’

  Liza nodded her thanks to them both before she said, ‘Be assured, doctor, I will not end up back in here or the “Spike”.’

  ‘The workhouse has been demolished, Liza!’ The doctor gave her a wry grin. ‘A friend of mine managed to empty it of its residents and, after buying the building, had it pulled down. Houses are to be built on the site; the work is underway as we speak.’

  ‘What of the staff?’ Liza asked, maintaining her calm demeanour.

  ‘All left, the porter and Relieving Officer are now in other employment. The cook quit shortly after… you left; and the Tulleys walked out! No one knows where they went.’ The doctor watched for any change in Liza at his words. There was none.

  ‘Well now,’ Liza said quietly, ‘it’s a blessing the place is gone for good and I’m sure the whole town is grateful to your friend.’

  Joshua gave her a wry grin. He thought, this woman is not insane, she is wily, but she’s certainly not mad. She was fishing for more information rather than asking outright who his friend was.

  ‘Liza, I need to know what sort of work you are willing to undertake on your release, it will help me search on your behalf.’

  Liza looked at the pile of books in her lap, saying, ‘I think I always wanted to be a school teacher. I had an accident before Phoebe and I entered the workhouse which caused me to suffer some memory loss. I’m afraid, I remember little of my life prior to that time.’

  Joshua and the superintendent exchanged a quick look of surprise at the woman’s answer. ‘Right then, we’ll have to see what we can do, but for now, I’m afraid, you are stuck in here. I am sorry, Liza, and be assured I’ll be along again soon with more books. As soon as I find you a home… you’ll be out.’

  ‘Thank you, Dr Cooper, I am grateful for your efforts on my behalf.’ Liza smiled, her blue eyes twinkling.

  Liza looked over her new books as her two visitors left her cell. She didn’t hear the key turn in the lock so intent was she at having new reading material. Then looking again at the closed door Liza’s mind revisited the Doctor’s words. ‘As soon as I find you a home… you’ll be out.’ Liza’s eyes travelled to the ceiling as she said a silent thank you to the Almighty. In her mind she added, ‘I could have done with your help sooner, you know, but this will do nicely thank you.’ Picking up a book, Liza began to read.

  Returning to his surgery, Dr Joshua Cooper thought about the woman he had just left. How had she ended up in the workhouse in the first place? Where was her husband? Had he abandoned his wife and child? Was he dead? Questions followed one after another as he prepared his medical bag for his visits to the sick. He knew eventually he would discover the answers, but for now there was one thought that pushed all others aside: Liza Townsend reminded him of someone, but who it was eluded him.

  *

  Bertha Jenkins sat in Cara’s kitchen enjoying tea and the company of Gracie and Molly as well as Cara and the children.

  ‘Bertha, I’m not sure whether you’ve heard, but I’m looking for a place for Liza Townsend to live. We can’t get her released from the lunatic asylum until she has somewhere to go. I wondered if you knew of anywhere.’ Cara broached the subject carefully and kept her fingers crossed that Bertha could provide a solution.

  ‘Cara, I ain’t sure if you know, but I live over in Pinfold Street at the back of the marketplace. It’s only a two-up, two-down but it’s clean and I live on my own… been widowed a long time. But I ain’t sure I want a lodger if that’s what you’re thinking… I’ve lived alone for so many years I don’t think it would work out.’

  ‘Surely, if you have a spare room…’ Cara persisted. ‘The poor woman is locked up in that place, Bertha. She shouldn’t be in there, but there’s nowhere else for her to go!’

  ‘Cara… look, I’m really grateful for all you’ve done for me and the rest of the folk in the town, but…’

  ‘How would you feel if it were you in that place? Locked up night and day, hardly allowed out, with all the other patients who are suffering…’ Cara was not about to give up that easily. ‘However, if you are adamant I could always find room for Liza here with us.’

  ‘Oh no you can’t!’ Bertha huffed. ‘Not with those two kiddies living here, it aint right.’

  ‘The poor woman has to go somewhere Bertha…’ Cara sighed.

  ‘Oh bloody hell! All right, all right. Let her come and we’ll see how we get on,’ Bertha conceded.

  ‘Oh Bertha! That’s wonderful!’ Cara gasped. ‘No one else would entertain the idea, they all think she might be dangerous.’

  ‘She ain’t dangerous!’ Bertha snapped. ‘She’s bloody grieving and lonely! Besides, it was me who was the cook and…’

  Cara held up her hand, glancing at the children who were munching their way through a plate of jam tarts. ‘What about when Mrs Townsend sees you?’

  Bertha eyed Cara over the table and lowered her voice to almost a whisper. ‘The one Liza holds responsible for young Phoebe’s death is Ada Tulley, and I’m sure she will understand my job was on the line. So, the room is there if she’s a mind to take it.’

  ‘Thank you, Bertha, thank you.’ Cara smiled, snatching another quick look at Daisy and Charlie. They appeared to be oblivious to the conversation, but Cara knew they were taking it all in. She knew what they had seen and witnessed during their time in the workhouse, and it was far worse than what they were hearing now.

  ‘Least I can do in thanks for your helping me. ’Sides, Liza shouldn’t be in there. You get her out and I’ll see to the rest.’ Bertha plumped up her ample chest, her chin lowering to meet it.

  The women chatted for the rest of the afternoon about how well the old workhouse site was coming on now the better weather had arrived. It wouldn’t be long before the first block of houses would be ready for its occupants.

  It was pure coincidence that Joshua Cooper arrived just as Bertha left and he settled himself in the kitchen with the tea and cake Gracie provided.

  ‘I took some books in for Liza Townsend,’ Dr Cooper explained, ‘she was delighted. She’s a learned woman, Cara, she mentioned she always wanted to be a teacher.’

  Surprise showed on Cara’s face before she said excitedly, ‘Bertha has offered to house Mrs Townsend!’

  It was the doctor’s turn to be surprised. ‘Wonderful! Now we just have to find her some work,’ he said.

  ‘I think it most unlikely any of the schools will take her on though,’ Cara added, shaking her head, ‘I’m afraid the stigma of her being in the asylum will stick like glue.’

  Dr Cooper nodded thoughtfully. ‘I think you’re right, but no matter, the first thing to do is get her released. Now she has a home to go to the superintendent will release her into my custody. Then we can worry about finding her some work. I will collect her tomorrow and escort her to Bertha’s house.’

  ‘Thank you, Dr Cooper, another job well done!’ Cara’s smile radiated at her pleasure of another soul saved and given freedom.

  *

  Liza closed her
book when she heard footsteps in the corridor. She listened hard, wondering where they would lead, then sucked in a breath as she heard the keys jangle outside her cell. Nerves gripped her until she saw Dr Cooper enter.

  ‘Dr Cooper, how lovely to see you again. More books?’

  ‘Not this time, Liza, I’ve come to take you away from this place.’ The doctor grinned.

  Liza could not hide her surprise, and getting to her feet she smoothed her hands down her long skirt. ‘Thank you, I’m ready,’ she said.

  The doctor saw that even after all she’d been through her dignity was still intact. He didn’t miss her wiping away a silent tear which rolled down her cheek in pure relief at being released.

  Holding her head high, Liza followed the doctor and attendant along the corridor to the superintendent’s office. She watched as the release paperwork was completed and she was given a copy. The doctor and superintendent exchanged a glance as Liza carefully read the document. Nodding once, she folded it neatly and placed it in her skirt pocket.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ she said, extending her hand across the desk.

  The superintendent stood to shake Liza’s hand, saying, ‘You’re welcome, Liza, good luck.’

  Liza nodded and turned to the doctor, ‘Shall we go?’

  Smiling, Dr Cooper led Liza Townsend out of the lunatic asylum and into the waiting cab.

  ‘Bertha Jenkins has offered you a room in her house, Liza.’ Then added hesitantly, ‘She… she was the cook… at the “Spike”.’

  ‘I remember her, she’s a kind lady.’ Looking at the man who sat next to her in the cab, she went on. ‘I know what you’re thinking, Dr Cooper, and no, I don’t hold Bertha responsible for my daughter’s death. I will assure her of that. Once that is out of the way, I’m sure Bertha and I will reach an accord. It’s good of her to open her home to me, Dr Cooper, as I’m sure no one else would,’ Liza said in a matter-of-fact voice.

  ‘Well, Liza, I can’t lie to you. It was difficult trying to persuade people,’ The doctor returned.

  ‘I’m sure,’ Liza raised her eyebrows. ‘No one wants a madwoman living in their house…’ she raised her hands as the doctor made to speak. ‘Oh… I know I’m not mad, but these people don’t. I can understand how they feel. Putting myself in their shoes, I expect I would feel the same.’

  Dr Cooper merely nodded.

  Arriving at their destination, Bertha welcomed Liza into her house. Dr Cooper left them to it. Returning from seeing the doctor out, Bertha drew in a deep breath and walked into the living room. She was almost knocked off her feet as Liza rushed up to her and threw her arms around her benefactor. As Bertha hugged back she heard Liza’s sobs. The woman was so relieved to be free from the asylum and also to have been given a home.

  Bertha’s voice cracked as she said, ‘Sit you down and have a nice cup of hot tea.’

  ‘Thank you, Bertha, for this kind gesture, it is much appreciated,’ Liza said on a dry sob. ‘You have no idea what is was like in that place.’ All at once the floodgates opened and Liza’s shoulders heaved as she cried out her anguish in the quiet of the kitchen.

  Bertha rushed to her and wrapped her arms around the sobbing woman. ‘Let it go, Liza, let it go. It ain’t no use hanging on to it, it don’t do you no good.’

  Liza cried until there were no more tears to come, but the dry sobs continued as she explained about her time in the asylum. ‘I thought I’d be in there forever. I never dreamed a kind soul like yourself would save me. I will never be able to thank you enough.’

  ‘Don’t you think nothing of it, wench,’ Bertha said. ‘You just get yourself by the fire while I mash fresh tea and then we can have a good chinwag.’

  The two women settled one each side of the fire and talked for hours, looking back on their past in the workhouse. After lots of tears from both women, Bertha’s words to Cara were proved right: Liza did indeed hold Ada Tulley responsible for the death of Phoebe.

  It was the following morning while Bertha made breakfast that Liza pored over the old newspapers her new friend kept for lighting the fire. The cook thought Liza was catching up on news she’d missed whilst incarcerated in the asylum, but Liza was looking for anything she could find on the whereabouts of Ada and Fred Tulley. She had a score to settle.

  Thirty-Two

  Joseph Purcell, one-time Chairman of the Board of Guardians, was fed up of reading about Cara Flowers in the newspaper. First there had been the news of her closing down the workhouse, which he knew about first hand anyway and didn’t appreciate having his humiliation publicized for all to read about, then there had been the news at Christmas of her engagement to Martin Lander. Now details of the new development that was taking place on the former workhouse site, yet another reminder of how she had thwarted him. The young woman had become a sensation virtually overnight and he again wondered how this had happened? She had duped him out of his position of Chairman and it still stung. He was a Magistrate, a man of learning, highly regarded in Bilston, yet this girl had emptied the workhouse – bought the building – then demolished it! It really galled that he, Magistrate Purcell, had been unable to do anything to prevent it! Now he had lost his prestige and his position of Chairman of the Board of Guardians. He had also lost the monies and perks that accompanied that position.

  Isaac Ballard at the Local Government Board had informed him of the Tulleys taking up their new appointments as Master and Matron of Wolverhampton Union Workhouse. Joseph’s grin was feral as he thought about this, he doubted even Cara bloody Flowers would take on the might of that institution! His grin changed to a scowl when he thought of how he had been made to look like a fool in the eyes of the town. He fully intended to pay her back for that, someday… somehow.

  In a foul temper, Joseph stomped from Brueton House and out onto the street where he hailed a cab. Snapping out instructions to the cabbie to take him to the workhouse site, he settled himself inside. The carriage rumbled up Mount Pleasant and along Wellington Street then branched off onto the dirt track leading to Green Lanes. Joseph stepped down expecting to be alone save for the workmen on site, but he was astonished to see a crowd of people standing gawking.

  Nodding to the few who spoke to him, he made his way over to the man who looked to be in charge. He introduced himself and Bill Rowley did the same.

  ‘So, Mr Rowley, I understand this land is being built on?’ Joseph asked.

  ‘Indeed, Miss Flowers instructed me to draw up the plans for the whole site,’ the architect answered.

  Bill and the Magistrate walked around the first block which was almost finished. Two-up, two-down; back to back, front and back doors, lavatory at the rear; all the blocks would be the same and would make strong and sturdy dwellings that would probably outlive them all.

  ‘This is one hell of an undertaking!’ he said at last.

  ‘It most certainly is,’ Rowley acknowledged, ‘but then Cara Flowers is not one for refusing a challenge, as everyone knows.’ Bill’s tongue pushed the side of his cheek out as he stifled a grin. He silently chastised himself for making fun of the other man.

  Purcell thanked Rowley and returned to the cab. His mood was blacker than ever now he’d witnessed the massive construction going on.

  *

  Many miles away, Ada Tulley had settled herself into her new position as Matron. She knew it stuck in Fred’s craw that she had acquired this post and the thought tickled her. Allowing herself an evil grin, she thought she was now in a perfect position to exact her revenge on the man who had stabbed her. She had laid down her terms on arrival; she was going to have a day off work every week, and if he didn’t like it – tough!

  Ada grinned as she ambled along the streets to the market. She had the lie of the land, having arrived in Wolverhampton at Monmore Green railway station. Following the street that ran between the railway line and the canal, she had arrived at the workhouse. She had stood in awe at the size of it. Built in a six-pointed star with a porter’s lodge at the entrance
, it had many outbuildings surrounding the main building. There was a fountain near the lodge and even a small fish pond at the back! She was very glad she had seen the advertisement in the newspaper for the post of Matron.

  Passing the tramway depot and the cattle market now, Ada walked into the outdoor market, with row after row of stalls selling everything from fruit and vegetables to old clothes and boots. It was not Ada’s day off, but she had gone out anyway. She and the porter had already formed a good friendship, so Ada was able to come and go as she pleased; an occasional coin in the porter’s hand securing their alliance.

  Ada shoved her nose in the air and strolled between the rows of stalls. The market women saw her coming, and although they hated what she stood for, they nevertheless traded their goods for her money. They had to make a living after all.

  The noise of stallholders calling out to prospective buyers assaulted Ada’s ears as she passed by. The smell of fresh vegetables floated on the warm air and the aroma of freshly baked pies reached her nose. She heard the clatter of empty wooden crates being piled on carts ready to be hauled away for refilling. In the distance came the shrill sound of the steam train’s whistle on its approach to the station.

  Moving to Wolverhampton had been a smart move on her part, she thought, she was going to enjoy living here. The only thing marring it was she had to live with her swine of a husband, Fred Tulley, once more! Never mind, nothing lasts forever.

  *

  ‘You looking for anything in particular?’ Bertha Jenkins asked as she watched her new lodger scan the newspapers.

  ‘I’m searching for work, Bertha,’ Liza said, without taking her eyes from the newsprint.

  ‘Any work in them old papers will be gone by now, I would think,’ Bertha nodded at the stack piled on the table.

  ‘Probably, but it’s worth looking, besides I’m learning what’s gone on in the town while I was… indisposed,’ Liza said, exchanging a smile with her benefactor.

  Returning to her reading once more, Liza’s eyes suddenly found what she was looking for. Avidly reading the tiny article near the back of the newspaper, she learned where the Tulleys had relocated themselves. For many, the news reporters were seen as vultures picking over other people’s misfortunes, but for Liza Townsend they had come up trumps.