The Lead Miner's Daughter

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The Lead Miner's Daughter Page 4

by Margaret Manchester


  ‘Of course, Mr Peart,’ she replied and went to get some water to fill the kettle. When she returned to the kitchen, Mrs Peart was covering Joe’s legs with a blanket, in an attempt at decency. Mary listened to them talk about cattle sales and agricultural shows while she made and served the tea.

  Shortly afterwards, they heard the doctor ride into the yard. Mr Peart went out to meet him and, while he tethered his horse, told him briefly what had happened. When the doctor came into the kitchen, he walked directly to Joe, ‘I hear you’ve had an accident, Joe. What happened?’

  ‘I brought a cow over to be bulled. Billy’s temperament is usually pretty good - for a bull anyway - but he must have got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning,’ Joe said with a laugh. ‘He was eying up the cow one minute and then the next he was running straight at me. I had me back against the wall and had nowhere to go. I moved to the side, but not fast enough, he caught me leg with his horn.’

  ‘I see. Well let’s take a look, shall we?’

  As the doctor went to remove the blanket from Joe’s lap, Mrs Peart said to Mary, ‘Perhaps we should leave them to it. The doctor can manage from here.’

  Doctor Rutherford looked up and addressed Mary. ‘Did you bandage his leg?’

  She nodded. ‘You’ve made a good job of it. It may be better if you stay in case I need some help, if that’s alright with you and Mrs Peart?’

  ‘Of course, I don’t mind helping,’ she replied.

  Mrs Peart nodded and left, with Mr Peart by her side. They preferred not to stay and watch the doctor do his work.

  The doctor examined the wound carefully. ‘It looks clean, but I’ll need some water for cleaning up when I’m done,’ he said as he threaded a curved needle.

  He noticed that Joe was starting to turn pale. ‘Look away, Joe. Think about something else, something nice.’ Joe’s eyes found Mary and he watched her moving around the kitchen while the doctor pulled the edges of the wound together and started stitching.

  A few minutes later, he had finished.

  ‘All done, that wasn’t too bad, was it?’

  Joe said, ‘No, not too bad. Thank you.’

  Mr Peart reappeared, ‘If you’re done, we’d better get him home. Isaac has the cart ready. Joe, don’t worry about the cow, just leave her here for a few days until Billy’s done his job.’

  When Joe had managed to pull his trousers back on, the doctor and Mr Peart helped him to the door. He turned back to Mary and said, ‘Thank you.’ The doctor tipped his hat at Mary and they went out to the waiting cart.

  Chapter 5

  St Andrew’s Church, Westgate

  July 1872

  Since Mary’s arrival at Westgate, she had discovered that there were three places of worship in the village. St Andrew’s was the newly-built parish church but, as Methodism was very strong in Weardale, there were also two Methodist Chapels — one for Primitive Methodists and one for Wesleyan Methodists. All of them were full for the Sunday services, with people walking miles from the surrounding hillsides to congregate in these buildings.

  Mary didn’t usually attend church with the Pearts. They were Church of England and Mary was Wesleyan Methodist, so every Sunday the Pearts went to church and Mary went to chapel.

  However, on this particular day Mary found herself walking with the Peart family to St Andrew’s because they were going to a christening. Ned and Anne Routledge, who farmed at Wellfield on the opposite side of the valley, were having their first baby baptised. Mrs Peart had told her that everyone in the farming community would be there and, as a member of their household, she would be expected to go with them.

  The church was almost empty when they went in and took their seats in the second row, but it soon started to fill up. Mrs Peart pointed out Sir Thomas Forster and Lady Margaret as they walked up the aisle and entered their family pew, followed by their son Henry and daughter Phyllis. Mary thought they were all very smartly dressed. She saw Lady Margaret look around the church and smile pleasantly at several members of the congregation.

  Mary heard people move into the pew behind her and sit down. She recognised Joe’s voice immediately. He was chatting with a man and a woman whom he obviously knew well. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could tell by the tone of the conversation that these people were comfortable with each other — his family perhaps?

  Mary’s thoughts were not on the service or the baptism, but on the man sitting very close to her. She could feel his presence. Even if she hadn’t heard his voice, she thought that she would have sensed he was there.

  At the end of the service, Mary waited for the Pearts to leave, intending to follow them out of the church. She jumped as Joe placed his hand on her shoulder. ‘Hello, Mary. Just wanted to say thanks again for what you did for me leg. It’s healed well, thanks to you.’ And then he smiled his lovely smile.

  Mary was embarrassed by the public compliment and also by the effect that his smile and his touch had on her. She said, ‘You’re welcome. I’m pleased to hear it’s better.’

  As they left the church, after shaking the vicar’s hand and congratulating him on an excellent service, Mr and Mrs Peart stopped to speak with Sir Thomas and Lady Margaret. They appeared to be deep in conversation, so Mary stepped away from them to give them some privacy. Nearby, Connie talked with Henry and Phyllis. She was very animated and moved her arms around as she spoke. Mary guessed that they must be discussing horses as it seemed horses were the only thing that could get Connie excited.

  Mary was standing alone when Joe and the young man who had sat next to him in the church, joined her. Joe smiled and said to his companion, ‘I’d like you to meet Mary, the new lass at Pearts’. Mary, this is me big brother, Tom.’ Mary recognised him as the man who had told her about the job at Springbank Farm.

  ‘Hello, Tom,’ said Mary, with a smile.

  ‘It’s nice to see you again, Mary.’

  ‘You two know each other?’ Joe said in surprise.

  Tom replied, ‘Yes, we met at Killhope a while back. Mary needed work and I told her that the Pearts wanted someone.’

  ‘So I’ve you to thank for bringing her to Westgate,’ said Joe with a huge smile.

  ‘I’m very grateful that you bothered to stop and tell me about the job at Springbank Farm. I appreciate it.’

  ‘Pleased I could help.’

  Mary was relieved that Tom hadn’t explained the full circumstances of their meeting to his brother. She still felt embarrassed thinking about how the master washerman had shown her up that day.

  Joe pointed to a plump, middle-aged woman who was talking to Anne Routledge and cooing over her baby, ‘That’s our mother over there – Jane Milburn – and we live at High House Farm, the next farm up from Springbank. Our land borders onto Mr Peart’s. Since our old fella died, me father that is, there’s just been the three of us. Mother and me see to the farm.’

  ‘What do you do, Tom?’ asked Mary.

  ‘I’m a lead miner, up at Grove Rake.’

  Mary’s father had talked about Grove Rake mine, near Rookhope. It belonged to WB Lead, the same company that owned Killhope mine. Grove Rake was one of the deepest mines in Weardale, and an exceptionally rich vein of lead ore had been discovered there recently.

  ‘My father’s a miner as well. He works at Killhope,’ said Mary. ‘He lives at Fell Top.’

  ‘I know the place,’ said Tom. ‘That’s a remote spot. I don’t suppose you get to see your folks very often?’

  ‘No, I’ve been at Springbank since April and I’ve not been home yet,’ she admitted. ‘I’m hoping they’ll come down for Chapel Show. Mrs Peart said I can have the full day off. I’ve missed them, especially the little ones.’

  ‘You should be visiting now, when the days are nice and long. Later in the year, you’ll struggle to walk up and back in daylight,’ said Tom.

  ‘Yes, you’re right.’

  Mary would have liked to talk to the brothers longer, but the Pearts were
standing at the churchyard gate gesturing for her to go with them.

  As she turned to leave, Tom said, ‘Wait, will you be going to the dance at Chapel?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll be there. Are you going?’

  ‘Yes. See you there.’

  ‘It was nice to see you again, Tom.’

  ‘You too.’

  Turning to Joe, she said, ‘Bye, Joe.’

  ‘See you, Mary.’

  The brothers watched her as she ran to the gate.

  Chapter 6

  Springbank Farm, Westgate

  August 1872

  The day of the ‘Chapel Dance’ had finally arrived and Mary was so excited that she had difficulty concentrating on getting breakfast ready for the family. She had never been to a dance before. She vaguely recalled her mother saying that she had met her father there, but she had never imagined that she would get the chance to go. However, Mr and Mrs Peart had decided that they would go this year and they had invited Connie and Mary to go along with them. Mary had been thrilled.

  She didn’t have many clothes but there was an old dress that had been her mother’s that she thought might be suitable to wear and she had spent several evenings altering it. When Mrs Peart had realised what she was doing, she very kindly gave Mary some lace for it.

  While her thoughts were on the evening ahead, Mrs Peart came into the kitchen. Mary noticed that she was a bit distracted.

  ‘Is everything alright, Mrs Peart?’

  ‘Not really. Mr Peart’s not feeling well. He wants to stay in bed for a bit longer. I’ll take some breakfast up for him on a tray, but I’ll come back down for mine.’

  Mary set a tray and Mrs Peart carried it upstairs. When she returned, she said, ‘What a time to be out of fettle! We’ll miss the dance tonight, and maybe even the show tomorrow. He’s never missed a show.’

  ‘I hope he feels better soon.’

  ‘Yes, me too,’ said Mrs Peart, tucking into her breakfast. ‘He’s hardly ever been ill. It’s so unlike him.’

  It dawned on Mary that if Mr and Mrs Peart were not going to the dance that she and Connie might not be allowed to go without a chaperone. ‘Can I still go to the dance tonight, if you and Mr Peart don’t go?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so. Connie will be there, so you can look out for each other. I know you don’t get on very well with Connie, but please walk home together. It’s not safe for girls to walk home alone. Alright?’

  ‘Alright, we will, Mrs Peart.’

  Mary would have agreed to anything to go to the dance. She didn’t welcome the thought of walking home with Connie, but she would do it. She wanted to go to the dance that much.

  When they arrived at the town hall in St John’s Chapel, Connie walked straight over to Henry and Phyllis, leaving Mary alone. Mary looked around at all the people dressed in their best clothes. They were standing at the edges of the room, chatting in small groups, waiting for the band to start playing. The musicians tuned their instruments, took their places and began to play. The caller shouted for people to find a partner and move to the dance floor.

  Mary saw Isaac walking towards her. ‘Would you like to dance, lass?’

  She looked around, ‘Yes please, if your wife doesn’t mind?’

  ‘She’s not here tonight. The baby’s due soon and she wanted to put her feet up. Her ankles are swelling up with this one.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that. I should tell you, I’ve never been to a dance before. I don’t know any of the steps.’

  ‘That makes two of us!’ Isaac laughed as he led her onto the dance floor, where several other couples stood waiting for the dance to start. The caller shouted out the steps and, following the instructions, they danced clumsily around the room, laughing at their mistakes.

  As the dance came to an end, Mary saw Tom Milburn walking towards them. ‘Mind if I have the next dance?’ he asked Isaac, but he was looking at Mary.

  ‘Go ahead. Me toes have had enough — they’re black and blue!’

  ‘You were just as bad as me,’ she laughed, as Isaac left.

  As the music started, Tom took Mary’s hand in his and placed his arm around her back, holding her closer than Isaac had. She looked up at him in surprise. He smiled. He was light on his feet and led her around the dance floor. She soon relaxed and started to enjoy herself. The music ended too quickly but, to her surprise, Tom didn’t let go of her hand. He stood by her side until the next dance began and he held her just as close as he had the first time. When this dance ended, the caller announced that the band would take a short break.

  ‘Thank you, Mary,’ said Tom. ‘Would you like a drink?’

  Mary raised her eyebrows. Coming from a Methodist family, she had never had an alcoholic drink before. Seeing the surprise on her face, Tom said, ‘There’s ginger beer or lemonade.’

  ‘Could I have some ginger beer, please?’

  He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her towards the bar where he ordered two glasses of ginger beer. They moved to one side.

  ‘Where did you learn to dance?’ asked Mary.

  ‘From me mother,’ laughed Tom. ‘She used to love dancing. When we were little, she used to hum the tunes and teach us the steps. She said it would help us get a lass when we grew up.’ His cheeks reddened slightly.

  ‘I wish someone had taught me. I would love to know how to dance properly. Listening to the fella shouting out the steps and then doing what he says, I think I’m always one or two steps behind everyone else!’

  ‘I didn’t notice,’ said Tom, smiling kindly at her. The band was preparing to start up again. ‘Would you like another dance?’ he asked.

  Joe came into the hall and walked straight over to Mary and Tom. Mary felt his presence behind her before he spoke.

  ‘Mary, I’m pleased to see you’re here. Will you dance with me?’ He held out his hand, which she took, and he led her onto the dance floor. She glanced back at Tom, but he turned away.

  Joe was a good dancer too. His eyes hardly left her face as they performed the steps. Where he touched her, she felt heat. She was aware of nothing but the man in front of her. All thoughts of steps were gone. She moved in time with the music like she was in a trance. When the music stopped, he said, ‘I’d love to stay for another one, but I promised the lads I’d pop over to the King’s Head. They’re waiting for me. I hope you enjoy the rest of the night.’

  As he turned to leave, Mary’s face fell and the hall suddenly felt empty. She looked around to see if there was anyone she recognised. There were a few friends from her school days but Hughie Jackson, her childhood tormentor, was with them and he was staring straight at her. Worried that he might ask her to dance, she looked away quickly and spotted Isaac walking across the hall. She felt safe with Isaac.

  ‘Would you like to dance again, Isaac? I think I’m getting better, so your toes should be safe.’ He laughed as he led her to the dance floor.

  Mary thoroughly enjoyed the evening and had forgotten all about Connie until it was time to leave. She looked around the room but couldn’t see her. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen her for some time. She checked the other rooms and walked around the outside of the building but couldn’t find her anywhere. She decided to wait a bit longer in case she turned up but, after half an hour, she came to the conclusion that Connie had left without her. Connie knew that they had only been allowed to go to the dance on the condition that they walked back together but she had disappeared anyway.

  Mary had to get back to Springbank Farm though. It was only a couple of miles away, but it was already late. She wondered where Tom and Joe were; they lived near Springbank and would be going home that way. A final glance around the hall confirmed that there was nobody she knew who would be going in her direction. She went outside.

  The town hall stood in the market place at St John Chapel and there were three public houses across the road. Men stood in the doorways, drinking, shouting and laughing. They seemed to be having a good time. She wondered if Jo
e or Tom was there. Could she walk into a pub and ask for them? Women didn’t go into pubs, not decent women anyway, and if neither Joe nor Tom were there, she could run into trouble. She resigned herself to walking back alone.

  Mary shivered as she left the town hall and pulled her cloak tighter around her body. Walking in the dark was fine when you knew the way, but this area of the dale was still new to her. To avoid the revellers in the marketplace, Mary decided to take the back road home. Cottages lined the Burn Foot road most of the way down to the riverbank. Even though it was dark, she chose to leap across the stepping stones rather than use the footbridge to cross the river. She walked briskly up the road, turning right towards Daddry Shield.

  The moon was less than half full and did little to light Mary’s way; clouds drifted across the sky, obscuring what little light there was as they passed in front of the moon, leaving Mary in total darkness at times. She jumped as a cow, disturbed by her footsteps, bellowed from behind a wall.

  As she approached the village of Daddry Shield, she noticed a few of the cottages had lights in their windows. She heard a horse coming up behind her at a trot, but couldn’t see it. She moved to the side of the road until her back was pressed against the field wall and waited until it passed, thinking how dangerous it was to walk on these narrow roads at night.

 

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